Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It belongs to J.K. Rowling, for reasons unknown to me. Apparently she wrote it or something like that. Bah!

Title: The Growing Pains of Draco Malfoy: Age 16

Summary: What's next for Draco Malfoy? His mum is pregnant at the ungodly age of 35, his father's been carted away to the loony bin, and he's losing the closest thing he's had to a bestfriend to a beatnik gothic Ravenclaw. Not to mention the fact that he can't stop thinking about a certain Weasley's legs...no, it's not Ron.

Rating: PG-13 for language and a butterbeer bottle to the head.

Author: Punk up the Volume

Author's Note: Hello all! Thank you for the wonderful and brilliant reviews! Fourteen in three days, I couldn't believe my eyes. So in response I'm going to update a few days earlier than expected. Hopefully I can get this posted quick and you guys can review again! I know, I know, I am a review whore. Thanks again.


Tuesday November 5th

Last day of classes until my short vacation. Took a test in Muggle Studies. Didn't study at all, but I'm sure I'll exceed most people's expectations. Pansy won't talk to me, which is no skin off of my back. It's nice not having her annoying high pitched whine in my ear: "Draco, where are you going?" or "Draco, are you feeling alright?", even "Draco, let's go have a quick romp behind the Quidditch Pitch." I have never "romped" with her, so I've no idea as to how she got the notion in her head.

Terry Boot is equally as grumpy. Ever since he started going out with Blaise, he's become a regular fixture in the Slytherin common room, and he keeps throwing me glares over his shoulder and sending me little notes during Astronomy with skulls and crossbones. Should I be worried about his mental state?

I have more important things to worry about, however:

What is going on between Ginny and I? Are we...going out? If so, how do I know that she knows that? This is far to confusing for me.

How is the Lunatic going to act when he gets back from the looney bin? Is he going to be just as crazy as ever, or a bit more so? Perhaps he will chop us all up in our sleep and feed us to his owls. I saw it in a muggle movie once. It was dead scary! I must make sure to lock my door at night and keep allsharp objects away from the Lunatic.

How is Mum going to be acting? After all, she is five months pregnant. I've heard horrid things about pregnant women becoming moody and irritable and throwing dinner plates at their beloved sons when their tea is not just right. I had better watch my back.

Exactly how is the Lunatic going to react when he finds out I poured Chenelle all over his pin stripped suit? I did him a favor really. He should thank me.

I have to go pack. Wish my Mum were here to do it for me. Sigh.

Wednesday November 6th

Afternoon: I am sitting on the Hogwarts train, waiting to stop at the station. It's dead quiet, I'm the only one on bored. No trolley ladies either. I snuck into the back room and broke into the snack locker, but there was nothing there! All that energy exerted for nothing, and I am still hungry.

Ginny came to see me off this morning at the front hall. She told me that she made a sandwhich for me, but it looked like it was made three weeks ago, so I threw it in the bushes once I arrived at the train. I didn't dare tell her she has no future as a cook; she might've thrown something at my head. Lord knows I can take anymore hits to the head after Potter went a crazy at the ball.

I pulled out a book to read from my suitcase an hour into my journey and note from Terry Boot fell out. It read "I'll get you" and underneath was a crudely drawn picture of a stick figure marked "Draco" hanging from a tree, a rope tied around his neckwith X's for eyes.

Everyone is out to get me.

Night: I am finally writing from my own room, but not for long, apparently!

Mum came to pick me up at the station with some old batty woman named Agnes who was looking at me with pure hatred. She's old, and crippled, and had an awful time lugging my suitcase to the car. Mum practically bowled me over when she saw me. She hugged me and squeezed me so tight that my eyes could've popped out of my head! Then she started stroking my hair and crying and moaning about how her darling baby boy was home.

But just afew moments later, she was pushed me over to Agnes and told me to stop being such a lazy little wanker and to help the help.

If I ever get married, I will send my wife away for nine months and wait until she comes back with the baby. I can not stand all these emotions!

Then, when we got home, Mum told me to not get too comfortable in my room. She says that she's got to start decorating for the baby! We have at least eleven bedrooms and Mum has to recycle mine for the babies needs? Preposterous!

"It has the best morning light!" she whined, rubbing her God awful bulge. "The baby, Draco...think of the baby!" I'd rather not, I've been thinking about this damn baby and the apocolypse it's bringing with it for the last two months.

I hate babies!

Thursday November 7th

We go and pick up father tomorrow morning, but I've got worse things to worry about. Received a very alarming and frantic letter from Ginny, explaining her recent kidnapping and exorcism. It goes as follows:

Dearest Draco,

How is your trip going? Well, I hope, because my life has become a living hell in your absence. Upon your departure for you comfy little vacation, I started back up to the Gryffindor common's room, only to be ambushed by three masked figures hiding behind the stature of St. Mungo (oddly appropriate, I found) and was dragged off to the Room of Requitement.

I was gagged and tied to a chair. Then, my captors revealed themselves as non other than my so-called-friends, Harry, Hermione, and my brother Ron. They had dressed all in black and covered up their faces with panty hose because they had seen it in some stupid muggle movie.

I let out a string of obscenities that would make Voldemort blush (I am so proud!) and proceeded to kick at all three of them.

"Settle down, Gin." Harry commanded, grabbing my feet.

"I don't have to settle down when I've been kidnapped and tied to chair by my friends. This is not what you do for the ones you love!"

"We're only trying to help." Hermione nodded her head fervently. I couldn't believe she had gone ahead with this; she's supposed to be the smart one. Bah! "We think that you might have been posessed by V-V-Voldemort." She stuttered.

"What the fuck gave you that idea?" I asked. Just wait, this is a good one.

"We have it from Terry Boot that you've recently been seen in the company of Draco Malfoy," Ron began, "Doing things such as, erm..um...er..."

"Spit it out, Ron!" I told him.

"You were..."

"Snogging him silly," Harry cut in. "Were Terry Boot's exact words. Which is why we think that you've been under the control of Voldemort."

"Lemme get this straight," I responded as calmly as I could muster. I wish you would have been there, Draco, dear, I suppose you would given them the old one-two. Yeah, right! "You think that Voldemort is possessing me so that he might be able to snog with Draco?"

Hermione let out a little cough while Harry looked up at the ceiling and Ron scratched his head. "You know," Harry said after a moment. "She has got a point."

"Of course I've got a point! Untie me right now so I can rip your bloody heads off!"

Hermione had started to undo the ropes, but Ron put his hand on her's to stop her. "On second thought, perhaps we should leave her there a bit longer. We can't just let her go and run around with Draco Malfoy like a little harlot!"

"I'm not a harlot!" I shouted at him, hoping someone would come running into save me, but to no avail. "And I happen to like him. He's interesting. A bit dumb perhaps, self centered, a bloody awful poet if I ever met one-"

"Then why do you like him?" You should have seen the look on Hermione's face when she said this! For once, it seemed she didn't have an answer! It was marvelous.

I shrugged. "I dunno. I just do. He does have some redeaming qualities. Plus, he going through a bit of a tough time. His dad has gone bonkers after all." Sorry, no offense.

"A tough time? A tough time!" Ron bellowed. "He's been putting the three of us through a tough time for the past five years! You'd better believe that Mum and Dad'll be hearing about this."

"I'm sure they will."

That was when they untied me, very warily though. They obviously took the ripping off of the their heads comment seriously. I don't have the stomach for something like that. At any rate, I hope you're happy. Do you realize what I am sacrificing for you? I'm bound to get a howler tomorrow at breakfast!

Not much else to tell you. Terry Boot, the little git, started counseling with Snape and when I was passing by the Ravenclaw table, I happened to overhear Cho Chang telling some of her friends that he came back to their common room in tears and was inconsolable. I hope Snape did something truly awful to him! He deserves it after ratting me out to Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

Hope you are well. How far along is your mum? Is she very moody?

Love, Ginny

Is she very moody? Is she very moody! Ha! Ha! Ha! This afternoon she broke into tears when I brought her a piece of half eaten cake in bed. What can I say? I got hungry on the way up from the kitchen. At any rate, I was only trying to helpful, and it was quite rude to throw the dish against the wall! Not only are my predictions coming true, but I also had to go and one of the damn houseelves to clean up the mess.

"But Ruffy is on break, master Draco," he whined when I dragged him up to the bedroom! Break? Ha! Someone has been liberating these houseelves; the culprit must be stopped before the houseelves start demanding paid vacation! Honestly.

Father comes home tomorrow. It shall be interesting to see what affect St. Mungo's has had on him. Perhaps he is a bit more agreeable now. Perhaps he will increase my pocket money! One can only hope.

Later: It is past midnight and I was just reading Ginny's letter again. She called me Draco dear and signed it love Ginny. Love! She sent me her love! I am loved! She loves me! She is my girlfriend and I love her and we will run through a meadow full of daisies and laugh and play and make love in the noon day sun!

Perhaps I am a bit tired.

Even Later: Oh no! I'm sure father will never approve of my new girlfriend! He will skin me alive! Woe is me. Ginny was talking about sacrifices; yeah, well, I'm practically sacrificing my life!

Friday November 8th

Horrible news! Horrible, ghastly, terrible, horrendous and all around smelly news! Apparently mum let slip the impending arrival of the Lunatic to Grandma Malfoy and now she wants to come with us to St. Mungo's to see him home! This is appalling! She's a horrid and beastly woman with the temperment of an enraged hippogriff and a hunched-back. I fear that she will suck out what little joy we have in our home like a dementor!

This is horrible, horrible, horrible news! Perhaps I can hide under my bed when she apparates to the manor.

Later: Grandma Malfoy apparated an hour after she was due; she is always late, I don't see why mum had me get all dressed up to see that old witch. The bowtie was choking me and turning my skin blue. Does air depravation give you spots? Hopefully not!

"Well," she tisked instead of a normal hello. "You didn't mention that you've gotten yourself knocked up again, Narcissa."

Mum blushed something awful. "Oh, ah, it must have slipped my mind."

Grandma Malfoy tisked again. "I hope I can assume that it's Lucius's."

Mum didn't give her a straight answer; she merely clapped her hands together and asked, "How long do you think you'll be staying Hyacinth?" Perhaps Mum is hiding something! Who knows what goes on when I am at school! Maybe my mum is having drunken trysts in muggle bars when the Lunatic is out! Imagine, just imagine!

"Oh," Grandma Malfoy replied. "About a week or so I suppose."

Mum and I just about fainted. "Now," she went on. "Where is my Draco darling!"

Cursing my luck, I grudgingly stepped out from behind Agnes, who was muttering under her breath as per usual (from what I've seen anyhow), and stepped over to where Grandma Malfoy stood.

"There is my special little darling grandson!" she screeched, grabbing me and squeezing me so hard that my eyes practically boggled out of my head. She hit me roughly on the back and slapped two galleons into my hand. "Happy birthday, Draco! Don't spend it too quickly. Here," Then she pushed her huge overnight bag into my chest. "Take this up to my room, won't you? That's a good boy."

The bag may have weighed fifty or so pounds and I may have been a bit guilty about leaving Mum in the evil clutches of Grandma Malfoy, but I was still very happy about getting away from that awful old woman. I hauled the bag up to the room Agnes had fixed up forher earlier. Looked through the bag real quick for another, better present. All I found was some old woman underwear.

At any rate, we spent the next two hours drinking tea in the dining room and sitting in silence, aside from the occasion snide comment from Grandma Malfoy. I am still a bit bitter about my present. After all, my birthday was two months ago and I could go through two galleons with a snap of my fingers. I know she's holding back; she's loaded and I know it.

Attwo forty five, Mum was starting to get antsy. She pinched me and told me to go get the house elf and tell him to get the floo powder ready. The owl Mum received said to meet a Dr. Avery in the Mind Reabilitating Center on the fourth floor at three o'clock.

"Oh, that darn floo powder," Grandma Malfoy tutted, taking another sip of her tea and wiping the biscuit crumbs out of herslight mustache. "Always irritating my allegies. Can't we just apparate?"

"I'm afraid Draco isn't of age," Mum muttered, clenching my arm so tight I was sure she was going to draw blood.

"I don't see why he can't apparate this once."

"It's against the law, Hyacinth," Mum explained in a calm schoolteacher voice.

"Always full of excuses."

I'm not sure how Mum will manage a whole week of Grandma Malfoy staying. I'm going back to Hogwarts on Tuesday and I'm sure the Lunatic will be of no help; no doubt he'll be in a right mental state. I'll be lucky if I escape from this prison without having been hit by a piece of good china. It seems our family has a pension for breaking all the lovely dishes. I bruise like a peach, you know, and all this stress cannot be good for my complexion. I can't remember the last time that I completed my entire daily facial regemine. Look what love has done to my priorities!

So, amid Grandma Malfoy's tuts and mutterings, we made out way to the fireplace that Ruffy had prepared for us and started the journey towards St. Mungo's. Personally, I agree with Grandma Malfoy when it comes to floo powder. I'm very sensative, as Mum knows, and the dust'll clog up my sinus' for days. But what does she care? She's suddenly become very self absorbed now that she's pregnant. Perhaps it'll teach her to use protection next time!

Not only is the dust horrid, but the feeling that my insides are being pulled in opposite directions by two wild hippogrifs is not exactly comforting. Damn floo powder!

We did, however, arrive at St. Mungo's intact, except for Grandma Malfoy's large purple and red hat that had disappeared and did not survive the journey. I expect some wizard will be very alarmed by the terrible hat flying out of his fireplace. It would be a laugh to see! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Grandma Malfoy, of course, made a terrible stink about climbing four flights of stairs and I have to admit there should be an easier method of transportation. After all, it's very uncomfortable when they bring down the mental patients for treatment and they grab your arm and croon, "Randall, my dearest Randall, you've gotten so big!" and then leave scratch marks all over your porcelin skin. I must look like a nutter who's been clawing at himself! I don't see why I even have to come to get the Lunatic. There's a good chance he might not even recognize me at all! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Well, we finally made it to the fourth floor, althought Grandma Malfoy made us stop several times, clutching her chest and panting like a mad woman. She was convinced she was having a cardiac episode. She kept moaning that she's not old enough to die. She certainly looks old enough! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Like I said, we made it all the way up to the deserted waiting room when a bloke who looked a bit too young to be ahealer came rushing over, wheezing like he had run a ten mile race. "Ms...(pant)...Malfoy?"

"Yes?" Both Grandma Malfoy and Mum answered in sync and then glared at eachother. "Yes?" Mum answered again, solo.

"Hello, ma'am, my name is DavidAvery, I'm Lucius' healer. Before our nurses bring out you husband, I'd like to have a word. I presume that you received my letter."

"Of course." Mum answered gracefully.

"Did you read the entire thing?" he answered, biting his lip and pushing his Potter-esqe glaces up the bridge of his nose. "The ENTIRE letter?"

"No," Mum frowned. "Why? Should I have?"

"Well," Avery paused. "In the letter, I reported that your husband has been having some problems, but since he is no longer violent, we have decided to release him into your care."

Mum frowned. "What kind of problems?" she questioned firmly in a monotone voice.

"As it happens, he, well, er, he's slightly...regressed."

"What do you mean, regressed?" Mum's eyes started to open wider.

Before Dr. Avery could answer, a shout echoed from behind the closed ward doors. "I want to see my Mummy! I want to see her right now!"

Now Mum's eyes boggled completely out of her head and we gave each other nervous looks. We both knew that voice, the voice that was normally shouting, not begging for his mummy.

"What do you mean he's regressed?" Mum spat. I was ready to hold her back in case she lunged at the healer. She is five months pregnant after all! Her emotions are off the wall.

"It's means, um, I'm sorry, I'm new at this. Er, it means that his mental state and emotional state has...er, slipped back a few years."

"How many years?"

"Um..." Dr. Avery checked the chart in his hand. "Let's see, erm, about...thirtythree years."

"Let me get this straight!" Grandma Malfoy exploded, stepping in front of Mum as she spoke for the first time. She jabbed her finger into Avery's chest and he let out a whimper. "You're telling me that my boy thinks he's five years old?"

"Indeed." Dr. Avery answered. I'm sure that Grandma Malfoy was ready to give him the old one-two, but she was interrupted by a streak of blond hair running through the ward doors toward us. I had never seen the Lunatic so happy and frantic. In fact, I'd never seen him run before!

"Mummy!" he cried as he approached us.

"My darling boy!" Grandma Malfoy cried, opening her arms for him to run into. She let out a yelp as he pushed past her, knocking her backwards, and collided into Mum.

"Mummy!" he cried again.

"What is the meaning of this!" Grandma Malfoy implored angrily, straightening her dress as she stood upright.

"Well," Avery started as two nervous looking nurses stood by his side. "In an effort to knock him out of the regression, we showed him pictures of his son and his wife. But, it backfired slightly."

I expected Mum to start shouting at this point, but she was trying to push away the Lunatic, who was clinging to her like he never wanted to let go.

"Backfired how?" Grandma Malfoy persisted.

"He sort of convinced himself that Narcissa...well, that Narcissa is his mum and his son, Draco, is his brother."

I let out a chortle breaking the silence. Grandma Malfoy let out an unintelligiable snarl and turned away, starting back down towards the stairs, leaving us to deal with the mess the Lunatic had made.