Author's Note: I'VE EDITED THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CHAPTERS!
Well, I'm back. This past Saturday I graduated from college so now I hope that I will have more time to write on this story.
Thank you to all my reviewers and to everyone who reads and likes this story. Please review again because I love to see the number of reviews climb. I am so jealous of people who have like 500 reviews. But each one of my reviews have been really lovely and I have enjoyed each one. Keep them coming. And once again, if you have any suggestions, please tell me.
HoVis: I love your suggestion that someone from the Gryffindor group should try and blackmail Draco. I am going to try to use it. Thanks so much.
YOU MUST READ THIS TO UNDERSTAND!!!
I have changed the entire eighteenth chapter and edited a bit of the seventeenth. Basically for the seventeenth chapter I changed it after Draco slides down the stairs. He will not find out until later that his father knows he was drunk.
Chapter Eighteen: Just a Little Bit Tipsy
"Hey, take it easy on that firewhiskey, mate." Blaise Zabini said as he watched Draco down yet another shot. "If you're not careful that stuff will knock you right on your arse."
"I know a couple of people that I'd really love to knock on their arses." Draco replied bitterly as he pushed the glass away and folded his arms on the bar.
"Still hung up on those stupid Gryffindors?" Blaise asked disgustedly. "You've really got to let it go. You can't let them get to you like this."
The bartender approached and placed another shot of Firewhiskey in front of Draco and a beer in front of Blaise.
"I can't help it. God! They make me so mad!" Draco growled through tightly gritted teeth.
"And they know that, Draco. You have to just shrug it off. You see right now they hold the advantage over you."
Draco glared.
"Because there are more of them." Blaise quickly added. "Really, it is mostly just you against them. Sure it's always been and always will be Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, but you've pretty much taken on the Golden trio alone. Crabbe and Goyle certainly can't contribute anything but muscle, the girls, sad to say, are pretty stupid in their remarks, Flint is gone, Montague's not that good at it, and I'm just too lazy. As of right now you make them angry they make you angry. It just constantly goes back and forth and no one wins. But, if the next time they try to get a rise out of you and you just completely ignore them and act like it doesn't bother you in the least, then it will make them more infuriated and you will hold the advantage over them. And possibly they'll get into trouble and not you."
"Really? Does that actually work?"
"Sure it does." Blaise answered as he took a sip of his beer. "I do it to my brother all the time. Whenever we are having an argument and he starts yelling I just shrug my shoulders and go 'whatever' and boy does he get pissed at that. He gets even angrier and winds up the one in trouble with my parents instead of me; even though I'm the one who starts it usually."
"Huh. Interesting. I think that I've missed out on a lot not having any siblings." Draco said as he picked up his drink.
"Believe me; you didn't miss out on much."
Draco emptied his glass and placed it back on the bar feeling in somewhat better spirits.
"Hey, how's it going over here?" Flint asked as he placed another empty pint on the bar between Draco and Blaise.
"It's good." Blaise replied.
Draco nodded and then said, "I don't know what all the fuss is over these things." He indicated the shots of Firewhiskey by pushing the glass away from him, "I've had like five of these and I don't feel anything."
Flint smiled as he noticed Draco's ever so slight slur and his jerky movements. His smile broadened even more when he looked over Draco's shoulder and noticed a woman who appeared to eyeballing his young friend.
"Hey, Draco, don't look now, but there happens to be a woman leering at you this very moment."
"What?!" Draco said in a tone which indicated that he thought Flint was just pulling his leg. "Come off it, Flint."
"I'm not kidding; she's staring right at you."
"She most certainly is." Blaise added; a smile lighting across his face.
Draco turned his head in the direction which his two friends had been looking, but he didn't see anyone who was particularly looking at him.
"You two are lying."
"No, we're not!" Blaise exclaimed.
"Well then who is it?"
"It's that woman in the black mini skirt and that silver-like shirt." Flint replied.
Draco casually looked back but quickly turned away when he saw her. The woman was indeed staring at him. In fact, she had raised a suggestive eyebrow when he had looked in her direction.
"Dear mother of God!" Draco exclaimed. "The woman's got to be fifty years old!"
Both Blaise and Marcus were laughing at him.
"Oh, come on, Draco, she can't be more than forty."
Draco gave another quick glance in her direction. He didn't care how old she was, her appearance was really rather disturbing. She had big, frizzy, overly-bleached hair with black roots, dark skin which looked like she had spent way to much time in the sun, giving it a sort of damaged, leathery appearance, her nails looked like claws as they grew two inches beyond her fingertips, her face was almost hidden in a mask of makeup, and her outfit left hardly anything to the imagination. She was actually quite hideous and Draco felt very uncomfortable knowing that she was leering at him.
"Why don't you go over and say hello?" Flint asked, a glint of mirth in his eye.
Draco gave him a disgusted look.
"She's not that bad." Blaise added. "Go on, she could be nice."
"She might even make a man out of you tonight." Flint laughed and lightly punched Draco in the arm.
Draco looked as if he were about to vomit.
"Oh, wank off."
"Come on, Draco." Draco just ignored Blaise.
"Okay, we're sorry." Flint was trying to keep himself from laughing. "Why don't we head over to the rest of the gang? They've all congregated in that corner over there."
"That means I'll have to go past that woman."
"Oh, so it does." Flint said in a mock-surprised tone.
Draco gave Marcus a dirty look. He then picked up the beer that Blaise had ordered for him and slid off his chair. The moment he did so it felt as if the blood was rushing to his head and everything swam in front of him. He swayed a bit and perhaps would have fallen if Marcus hadn't grabbed a hold of his arm.
"You alright, mate?"
"Yeah." Draco replied.
"The Firewhiskey must be kicking in." Blaise said as he stood as well, beer in hand.
"Yeah, I think just a bit." He shook his head slightly and when he felt like he had regained his balance he began to follow Flint and Blaise across the crowded room. As they began to pass the woman, Draco avoided looking at her at all cost. He had just about gotten past when...
"Oi!" Draco whipped around and looked in shock at the woman who was now smiling and winking suggestively at him. He quickly backed away, bumping into several people as he desperately tried to scurry out of her sight; and arm's reach.
"What just happened back there?" Blaise asked when Draco had reached them, the look of shock and horror still on his face.
"That woman just grabbed my ass!"
"What?!!" Blaise laughed.
"Yes! And it wasn't a light grab either, she really went for it!"
Blaise and Marcus dissolved into fits of laughter when they heard what Draco said and saw the disbelieving and shocked look on his face.
"It really isn't funny. It hurt. I think she must have punctured me with those claws of hers."
Blaise and Marcus now found it very difficult to remain on their feet as they doubled over in fits of laughter.
"Hey, you want a cigarette?" Blaise asked, offering the pack to Draco as he placed a cigarette in his own mouth.
"No, I don't smoke."
"Well, up until a few hours ago you didn't drink either. Have one." Marcus said as he took a cigarette for himself and pushed the pack across the table to Draco.
Draco picked up the pack and pulled out a cigarette and warily put it in his mouth. Blaise immediately held up a match and lit the end. The moment Draco inhaled he began to cough violently.
"You alright there, mate?" Blaise asked as he lightly patted Draco's back and chuckled softly.
"Sure." Draco managed to croak. After he was able to regain his breath he attempted once more to take a drag but wound up coughing again. "These things are nasty." He said, face contorted in revulsion as he put the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "How can you guys smoke these?"
"Takes a bit of getting used to."
"I'd say it takes a lot of getting used to. Yuck!" After a moment... "Okay, all of a sudden my lip and tongue have gone numb. Is that supposed to happen?"
Draco was eternally grateful when he and his father had finally made it into the Ministry of Magic. The noise of the streets above and the glaring light of the sun had made Draco's splitting headache feel like it was magnified a hundred times. He shielded his eyes as best he could from the sun but the noise was just too overpowering. All he wanted to do was crawl back into his comfortable bed and bury his head deep within his blessedly silent pillows.
Thankfully the Ministry, though still far too noisy for someone with a hangover, was much quieter than the streets above. However, as he followed his father through the labyrinth of halls Draco began to fell queasier than he had before. There were too many bright colors bombarding him from all sides, the lights were far too bright, there were too many nauseating smells, no airflow, and why was it so hot? Draco focused his eyes down on the floor and began pulling at the collar of his shirt. His stomach began to churn and it was becoming a bit harder to breath. He needed to sit down. He needed to sit down right now! He pulled harder at his collar and continued to stare down at the floor, trying to focus on the pattern of the tiles than increasing need to sit down and puke. He felt beads of sweat developing on his brow and his body began to fell shaky.
He hadn't noticed that his father had stopped in front of him until he almost walked right into him. He managed to avoid colliding into his father and took a couple of steps back; eyes still focused on the floor and hand still pulling on his collar.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy." Came a far-too cheery voice.
Lucius nodded an acknowledgement to the secretary Miss Westcott. He then looked back at Draco and noted, with much concern, the distressed look upon his son's face and the extreme paleness of his skin. At the sound of Miss Westcott's voice he turned back around.
"Mr. Thompson and Mr. Hampton have arrived and the meeting has been moved to room thirteen. It starts in five minutes. Um, is he alright?" she asked, looking very concerned at Draco who was now swaying slightly and having an even more difficult time breathing. Lucius quickly turned about.
Draco's vision had gone slightly fuzzy and everything seemed to be spinning about him. Everything seemed unreal, dreamlike, and he barely registered the sound of his father's voice.
"Draco, are you alright? Perhaps you should sit down."
Draco looked blearily up at his father. "Father, I don't think I feel very well."
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than he collapsed.
Well, I'm back. This past Saturday I graduated from college so now I hope that I will have more time to write on this story.
Thank you to all my reviewers and to everyone who reads and likes this story. Please review again because I love to see the number of reviews climb. I am so jealous of people who have like 500 reviews. But each one of my reviews have been really lovely and I have enjoyed each one. Keep them coming. And once again, if you have any suggestions, please tell me.
HoVis: I love your suggestion that someone from the Gryffindor group should try and blackmail Draco. I am going to try to use it. Thanks so much.
YOU MUST READ THIS TO UNDERSTAND!!!
I have changed the entire eighteenth chapter and edited a bit of the seventeenth. Basically for the seventeenth chapter I changed it after Draco slides down the stairs. He will not find out until later that his father knows he was drunk.
Chapter Eighteen: Just a Little Bit Tipsy
"Hey, take it easy on that firewhiskey, mate." Blaise Zabini said as he watched Draco down yet another shot. "If you're not careful that stuff will knock you right on your arse."
"I know a couple of people that I'd really love to knock on their arses." Draco replied bitterly as he pushed the glass away and folded his arms on the bar.
"Still hung up on those stupid Gryffindors?" Blaise asked disgustedly. "You've really got to let it go. You can't let them get to you like this."
The bartender approached and placed another shot of Firewhiskey in front of Draco and a beer in front of Blaise.
"I can't help it. God! They make me so mad!" Draco growled through tightly gritted teeth.
"And they know that, Draco. You have to just shrug it off. You see right now they hold the advantage over you."
Draco glared.
"Because there are more of them." Blaise quickly added. "Really, it is mostly just you against them. Sure it's always been and always will be Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, but you've pretty much taken on the Golden trio alone. Crabbe and Goyle certainly can't contribute anything but muscle, the girls, sad to say, are pretty stupid in their remarks, Flint is gone, Montague's not that good at it, and I'm just too lazy. As of right now you make them angry they make you angry. It just constantly goes back and forth and no one wins. But, if the next time they try to get a rise out of you and you just completely ignore them and act like it doesn't bother you in the least, then it will make them more infuriated and you will hold the advantage over them. And possibly they'll get into trouble and not you."
"Really? Does that actually work?"
"Sure it does." Blaise answered as he took a sip of his beer. "I do it to my brother all the time. Whenever we are having an argument and he starts yelling I just shrug my shoulders and go 'whatever' and boy does he get pissed at that. He gets even angrier and winds up the one in trouble with my parents instead of me; even though I'm the one who starts it usually."
"Huh. Interesting. I think that I've missed out on a lot not having any siblings." Draco said as he picked up his drink.
"Believe me; you didn't miss out on much."
Draco emptied his glass and placed it back on the bar feeling in somewhat better spirits.
"Hey, how's it going over here?" Flint asked as he placed another empty pint on the bar between Draco and Blaise.
"It's good." Blaise replied.
Draco nodded and then said, "I don't know what all the fuss is over these things." He indicated the shots of Firewhiskey by pushing the glass away from him, "I've had like five of these and I don't feel anything."
Flint smiled as he noticed Draco's ever so slight slur and his jerky movements. His smile broadened even more when he looked over Draco's shoulder and noticed a woman who appeared to eyeballing his young friend.
"Hey, Draco, don't look now, but there happens to be a woman leering at you this very moment."
"What?!" Draco said in a tone which indicated that he thought Flint was just pulling his leg. "Come off it, Flint."
"I'm not kidding; she's staring right at you."
"She most certainly is." Blaise added; a smile lighting across his face.
Draco turned his head in the direction which his two friends had been looking, but he didn't see anyone who was particularly looking at him.
"You two are lying."
"No, we're not!" Blaise exclaimed.
"Well then who is it?"
"It's that woman in the black mini skirt and that silver-like shirt." Flint replied.
Draco casually looked back but quickly turned away when he saw her. The woman was indeed staring at him. In fact, she had raised a suggestive eyebrow when he had looked in her direction.
"Dear mother of God!" Draco exclaimed. "The woman's got to be fifty years old!"
Both Blaise and Marcus were laughing at him.
"Oh, come on, Draco, she can't be more than forty."
Draco gave another quick glance in her direction. He didn't care how old she was, her appearance was really rather disturbing. She had big, frizzy, overly-bleached hair with black roots, dark skin which looked like she had spent way to much time in the sun, giving it a sort of damaged, leathery appearance, her nails looked like claws as they grew two inches beyond her fingertips, her face was almost hidden in a mask of makeup, and her outfit left hardly anything to the imagination. She was actually quite hideous and Draco felt very uncomfortable knowing that she was leering at him.
"Why don't you go over and say hello?" Flint asked, a glint of mirth in his eye.
Draco gave him a disgusted look.
"She's not that bad." Blaise added. "Go on, she could be nice."
"She might even make a man out of you tonight." Flint laughed and lightly punched Draco in the arm.
Draco looked as if he were about to vomit.
"Oh, wank off."
"Come on, Draco." Draco just ignored Blaise.
"Okay, we're sorry." Flint was trying to keep himself from laughing. "Why don't we head over to the rest of the gang? They've all congregated in that corner over there."
"That means I'll have to go past that woman."
"Oh, so it does." Flint said in a mock-surprised tone.
Draco gave Marcus a dirty look. He then picked up the beer that Blaise had ordered for him and slid off his chair. The moment he did so it felt as if the blood was rushing to his head and everything swam in front of him. He swayed a bit and perhaps would have fallen if Marcus hadn't grabbed a hold of his arm.
"You alright, mate?"
"Yeah." Draco replied.
"The Firewhiskey must be kicking in." Blaise said as he stood as well, beer in hand.
"Yeah, I think just a bit." He shook his head slightly and when he felt like he had regained his balance he began to follow Flint and Blaise across the crowded room. As they began to pass the woman, Draco avoided looking at her at all cost. He had just about gotten past when...
"Oi!" Draco whipped around and looked in shock at the woman who was now smiling and winking suggestively at him. He quickly backed away, bumping into several people as he desperately tried to scurry out of her sight; and arm's reach.
"What just happened back there?" Blaise asked when Draco had reached them, the look of shock and horror still on his face.
"That woman just grabbed my ass!"
"What?!!" Blaise laughed.
"Yes! And it wasn't a light grab either, she really went for it!"
Blaise and Marcus dissolved into fits of laughter when they heard what Draco said and saw the disbelieving and shocked look on his face.
"It really isn't funny. It hurt. I think she must have punctured me with those claws of hers."
Blaise and Marcus now found it very difficult to remain on their feet as they doubled over in fits of laughter.
"Hey, you want a cigarette?" Blaise asked, offering the pack to Draco as he placed a cigarette in his own mouth.
"No, I don't smoke."
"Well, up until a few hours ago you didn't drink either. Have one." Marcus said as he took a cigarette for himself and pushed the pack across the table to Draco.
Draco picked up the pack and pulled out a cigarette and warily put it in his mouth. Blaise immediately held up a match and lit the end. The moment Draco inhaled he began to cough violently.
"You alright there, mate?" Blaise asked as he lightly patted Draco's back and chuckled softly.
"Sure." Draco managed to croak. After he was able to regain his breath he attempted once more to take a drag but wound up coughing again. "These things are nasty." He said, face contorted in revulsion as he put the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "How can you guys smoke these?"
"Takes a bit of getting used to."
"I'd say it takes a lot of getting used to. Yuck!" After a moment... "Okay, all of a sudden my lip and tongue have gone numb. Is that supposed to happen?"
Draco was eternally grateful when he and his father had finally made it into the Ministry of Magic. The noise of the streets above and the glaring light of the sun had made Draco's splitting headache feel like it was magnified a hundred times. He shielded his eyes as best he could from the sun but the noise was just too overpowering. All he wanted to do was crawl back into his comfortable bed and bury his head deep within his blessedly silent pillows.
Thankfully the Ministry, though still far too noisy for someone with a hangover, was much quieter than the streets above. However, as he followed his father through the labyrinth of halls Draco began to fell queasier than he had before. There were too many bright colors bombarding him from all sides, the lights were far too bright, there were too many nauseating smells, no airflow, and why was it so hot? Draco focused his eyes down on the floor and began pulling at the collar of his shirt. His stomach began to churn and it was becoming a bit harder to breath. He needed to sit down. He needed to sit down right now! He pulled harder at his collar and continued to stare down at the floor, trying to focus on the pattern of the tiles than increasing need to sit down and puke. He felt beads of sweat developing on his brow and his body began to fell shaky.
He hadn't noticed that his father had stopped in front of him until he almost walked right into him. He managed to avoid colliding into his father and took a couple of steps back; eyes still focused on the floor and hand still pulling on his collar.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy." Came a far-too cheery voice.
Lucius nodded an acknowledgement to the secretary Miss Westcott. He then looked back at Draco and noted, with much concern, the distressed look upon his son's face and the extreme paleness of his skin. At the sound of Miss Westcott's voice he turned back around.
"Mr. Thompson and Mr. Hampton have arrived and the meeting has been moved to room thirteen. It starts in five minutes. Um, is he alright?" she asked, looking very concerned at Draco who was now swaying slightly and having an even more difficult time breathing. Lucius quickly turned about.
Draco's vision had gone slightly fuzzy and everything seemed to be spinning about him. Everything seemed unreal, dreamlike, and he barely registered the sound of his father's voice.
"Draco, are you alright? Perhaps you should sit down."
Draco looked blearily up at his father. "Father, I don't think I feel very well."
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than he collapsed.