Hullo all-- Chapter 3!
This one is a little random because I was in a funny mood when I wrote it.
Enjoy! And Review!
See First Chapter for Disclaimer.
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Actually, at this precise moment in time there were lots of things the world didn't know. In fact, there were lots of things the world may never want to know. For instance, the world was utterly unaware that while Ron Weasley was trying his best to keep at arms length from the unwanted Slytherin in his bedroom; Professor Dumbledore was prancing around Hogwarts in a silk robe of bright fuchsia and greatly enjoying himself. The world also didn't know that Harry Potter was masturbating to pictures from Dudley's old girlie magazines and not finding them very useful or that Remus Lupin and Sirius Black-outcasts of the wizarding world, were at this very moment having mind blowing...
discussions about Quidditch.
Of course, not all the things the world didn't know were of a sexual nature. Hermione Granger was trying to figure out if she could turn her mother into a bat because they'd had a spat over her new teeth, and Neville Longbottem was wearing his Grandmother's hat and doing impressions of Snape for the little children he babysat for over the summer. Not to mention Dean Tomas and Seamus Finnigan who were getting thoroughly sloshed and singing highly off key in some wonky London pub they really shouldn't be in. Lastly, there was Draco who was now perched on the window sill in Ron's room, humming to himself while he watched the rain. Sadly, he was acting wholly civil, much to Ron's chagrin. Having to treat Malfoy like a human being and not an annoying insect was quite a wearing task.
Ron bit his lip, "Would you, er, maybe like a cup of tea?" He implored.
Draco glanced away from the window, and his lips curled into a slight sneer. "Decided to be civil, Weasley?"
"I think mum keeps Prince of Whales," he ground out, keeping his fists tightly closed so not to dive toward Draco and shove him out the closed glass window.
Sounding truly relieved Draco said, "Okay. I'll have some," and stood up. He stretched, arms above his head much like Ron had after he'd been sitting by the window. Ron, however, took no notice of their similar actions.
"You wait here, okay? Mum might be in the kitchen and I don't know how well she'll take to finding a Malfoy in her home." Ron started toward the door and then stopped. "Malfoy?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you take milk and sugar?" Ron asked.
"Yes. But not too much milk." Draco answered, and Ron thought he might have seen the ghost of a real smile.
"Malfoy," he said again.
"Yeah?"
"When I get back with the tea will you tell my why you're really here?"
Draco seemed to work it over in his head; Ron caught a myriad of emotions dance across his usually placid face. "Okay," he resolved.
Ron nodded and left the room. Draco sat down on the bed.
Ron's room was okay, he thought. It didn't smell bad. It didn't have anything unidentifiable growing from the floor. It also wasn't covered it pictures of Potter, Draco thought laughingly. Although there was one photo of Potter, Weasley himself, and that Granger girl sitting on Ron's night stand. Draco picked it up. He stared at it and wondered who took it. It could have been anyone really; their location was purely unrecognizable, although it was definitely a wizarding photograph. From the picture Weasley scowled up at him until Granger put a calming hand on his arm, Potter just looked smug. Draco thought he might like to rip it up, but Weasley would inevitably notice. It was framed and everything.
He sighed and leant back onto the bed. It was soft and smelled kind of nice. Maybe like soap and grass. Draco pressed his face lightly into the worn and patched duvet; mmmm, jasmine, he thought. Truth be told, Draco didn't even know himself why he was here. He wanted to think he was on some grand adventure. But it didn't truly matter where he went because his father would always come for him. He let out a sigh of discontent, it was a wonder Lucius Malfoy had apparated to the Burrow yet. Perhaps, Draco thought, it was only a matter of time. Time he would use to find a bit of peace, even if he meant he had to spend it with the depraved Ron Weasley and the rest of his sodding family.
Draco sat up quickly when he heard the aforementioned coming up the stairs. He didn't fancy having the other boy catch him face down on his sheets. Re-arranging the blanket a bit he pulled his knees up to his chest and waited.
To be continued...
Argh! Draco is sooo hard to write. He keeps muttering strange things in my ear. Like: "Let me get up and dance! Or I want to...sing! Sing! Sing!" Bah, no more Monty Python for that boy.
This one is a little random because I was in a funny mood when I wrote it.
Enjoy! And Review!
See First Chapter for Disclaimer.
------------------
Actually, at this precise moment in time there were lots of things the world didn't know. In fact, there were lots of things the world may never want to know. For instance, the world was utterly unaware that while Ron Weasley was trying his best to keep at arms length from the unwanted Slytherin in his bedroom; Professor Dumbledore was prancing around Hogwarts in a silk robe of bright fuchsia and greatly enjoying himself. The world also didn't know that Harry Potter was masturbating to pictures from Dudley's old girlie magazines and not finding them very useful or that Remus Lupin and Sirius Black-outcasts of the wizarding world, were at this very moment having mind blowing...
discussions about Quidditch.
Of course, not all the things the world didn't know were of a sexual nature. Hermione Granger was trying to figure out if she could turn her mother into a bat because they'd had a spat over her new teeth, and Neville Longbottem was wearing his Grandmother's hat and doing impressions of Snape for the little children he babysat for over the summer. Not to mention Dean Tomas and Seamus Finnigan who were getting thoroughly sloshed and singing highly off key in some wonky London pub they really shouldn't be in. Lastly, there was Draco who was now perched on the window sill in Ron's room, humming to himself while he watched the rain. Sadly, he was acting wholly civil, much to Ron's chagrin. Having to treat Malfoy like a human being and not an annoying insect was quite a wearing task.
Ron bit his lip, "Would you, er, maybe like a cup of tea?" He implored.
Draco glanced away from the window, and his lips curled into a slight sneer. "Decided to be civil, Weasley?"
"I think mum keeps Prince of Whales," he ground out, keeping his fists tightly closed so not to dive toward Draco and shove him out the closed glass window.
Sounding truly relieved Draco said, "Okay. I'll have some," and stood up. He stretched, arms above his head much like Ron had after he'd been sitting by the window. Ron, however, took no notice of their similar actions.
"You wait here, okay? Mum might be in the kitchen and I don't know how well she'll take to finding a Malfoy in her home." Ron started toward the door and then stopped. "Malfoy?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you take milk and sugar?" Ron asked.
"Yes. But not too much milk." Draco answered, and Ron thought he might have seen the ghost of a real smile.
"Malfoy," he said again.
"Yeah?"
"When I get back with the tea will you tell my why you're really here?"
Draco seemed to work it over in his head; Ron caught a myriad of emotions dance across his usually placid face. "Okay," he resolved.
Ron nodded and left the room. Draco sat down on the bed.
Ron's room was okay, he thought. It didn't smell bad. It didn't have anything unidentifiable growing from the floor. It also wasn't covered it pictures of Potter, Draco thought laughingly. Although there was one photo of Potter, Weasley himself, and that Granger girl sitting on Ron's night stand. Draco picked it up. He stared at it and wondered who took it. It could have been anyone really; their location was purely unrecognizable, although it was definitely a wizarding photograph. From the picture Weasley scowled up at him until Granger put a calming hand on his arm, Potter just looked smug. Draco thought he might like to rip it up, but Weasley would inevitably notice. It was framed and everything.
He sighed and leant back onto the bed. It was soft and smelled kind of nice. Maybe like soap and grass. Draco pressed his face lightly into the worn and patched duvet; mmmm, jasmine, he thought. Truth be told, Draco didn't even know himself why he was here. He wanted to think he was on some grand adventure. But it didn't truly matter where he went because his father would always come for him. He let out a sigh of discontent, it was a wonder Lucius Malfoy had apparated to the Burrow yet. Perhaps, Draco thought, it was only a matter of time. Time he would use to find a bit of peace, even if he meant he had to spend it with the depraved Ron Weasley and the rest of his sodding family.
Draco sat up quickly when he heard the aforementioned coming up the stairs. He didn't fancy having the other boy catch him face down on his sheets. Re-arranging the blanket a bit he pulled his knees up to his chest and waited.
To be continued...
Argh! Draco is sooo hard to write. He keeps muttering strange things in my ear. Like: "Let me get up and dance! Or I want to...sing! Sing! Sing!" Bah, no more Monty Python for that boy.