Woke up hung like a ton of bricks
Don't know where the hell I am!
Who's this naked next to me
What did I do!
Can't work or go to school today
Can't remember if I do that anyways.
Got some money
Got no clue, the world's a mess!
I hate my life!
Lot's of sex
Little love stimulation, no satisfaction.
Life is hard
Life is stress
Life is such a pain in the ass
I hate my life!
Complain! Complain! Life sucks anyway!
It it's all so hard let them take it all away.
Why the competition?
Why stress to death?
Be happy with what you have!
Most have so much less
I hope some day we realize how good it really is.
"I Hate my Life" –Youth Brigade
The Perfect Life
Chapter 2 – Morning After
He quickly squirmed away from her, much so he fell off the bed.
"Granger! What in bloody hell are you doing in…in…" His voice trailed off as his eyes skimmed through the brightly lit unfamiliar room. The walls were cream in color, the trims were white, and tanned curtains hung from the windows.
"This isn't the Slytherin dormitory," he muttered under his breath. "This isn't even Hogwarts. Where the hell am I?"
From his position on the floor he felt a breeze. As he looked down he was surprised he hadn't noticed before that he was naked, save for a pair of red boxers he had on. Quickly tugging on the sheets in an attempt to cover himself up, the woman on the bed began to stir.
"Mm…five more minutes," she grumbled sleepily, rolling over under the covers.
Draco flinched, slightly startled by the sound of her voice. As he retrieved his hand something on his finger caught his eye—something glistening in the sunlight. He examined his left hand, at the golden band wrapped around his ring finger.
"What the…" His eyes squinted upon it, dumbfounded by its existence. "What did I do last night!" Draco tried to recall all the events of his previous evening. As he did so, he ran a hand through his flaxen hair. His hand stopped midway as he paled considerably and grabbed at his head with both hands.
"My hair!" he screeched mortified. His hair was a lot shorter now, not even long enough to feel it brushing against his forehead.
The woman on the bed sat up in alarm at the sound of Draco's sudden outburst. She leaned over the edge of the bed to see him sitting on the floor frantically tugging at his hairs in a desperate attempt to make them longer.
"Draco what is it? What's wrong?" She looked at him with familiar warm brown eyes while a hysterical Draco stared back wide-eyed.
The woman had shoulder-length tresses, her brown curls shimmering with golden highlights. Her skin looked milky smooth, her full lips were tempting and her form was exquisite. She had a petite frame but still had curves in the right places. Draco had thought it was Hermione, and though she did resemble her, now he wasn't so sure.
"My…my hair!" he squeaked so high he reached a new octave, almost on the verge of tears.
Slowly raising a brow at him, she shook herself awake and yawned. "I'm gonna go wash up," she said before scooting off the bed and heading through a door on her left which lead to a bathroom.
Draco stared after her still as a statue. "Alright Draco. No need to panic," he told himself standing up still clutching the bed sheets around his waist. "Just coz you wake up next to a strange woman in an unfamiliar room, a wedding ring on your finger, and a new haircut. You've been in worse predicaments."
Finally heaving in a deep breath, he turned around and saw something that made his jaw drop. There, by the head of the bed, hung a very large wedding photo of the brown-haired woman herself. She wore a plain white, yet flattering wedding gown. But this woman's captivating beauty was not the reason Draco had stopped breathing altogether. It was because the groom on her right grinning stupidly at her was none other than himself…or at least a version of him several years older.
"No," he said to the empty room as if opposing someone. "This can't be right. I'm only 17! I can't be married, and especially not that mudblood." He examined the photo more closely and just as he feared, somewhere in the background stood Harry and Ron, oblivious to the fact that they're even included in the picture.
"Oh Merlin! It is her," he said slowly backing away. His back hit the wall, and turning around facing a mirror, he gasped at who was staring back.
It was a muscular Draco, not that he wasn't fit before but even more so now. A sly grin began to form on the corners of his mouth.
"Well, well. Would you look at that." He flexed his arms and complacently smirked at the sight. "Oh, hello Mr. Muscles. Aren't we looking devilishly handsome this morning."
Suddenly he heard someone clear their throat. Draco quickly dropped his arms to his side and looked at the woman who just exited the bathroom. "What were you doing?" she asked, a playful smile dancing on her lips. Clearly, she had witnessed his embarrassing display in front of the mirror.
"Uh—I was just—nothing," he stammered.
She smirked at him, one that chillingly resembled his. "Well, Mr. Muscles, when you're done doing nothing why don't you come meet me down for breakfast," she said, walking up so close to him he could almost feel her warm breath on his bare skin. Now having a closer look at her face, he was almost 100percent certain that this was the know-it-all mudblood he'd loathed for years.
He gulped. "Granger?" He already knew the answer to that but there was still a small piece of hope that maybe this could just be a body double.
"That's Mrs. Malfoy to you," she replied giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
Draco was too stunned to react. 'It-it's true! I'm married to that…that…bushy-haired Gryffindor. How did this happen? How!' he thought to himself as his palms began to sweat, his legs still too stricken to move. After his worst fears had been confirmed how else was he supposed to react?
As she was about to leave, she turned to face him again just as she reached the door. "You might wanna throw something on first before coming downstairs," she said hiding a smile. Then she disappeared down the hallway. Draco looked down at his exposed boxers and the fallen sheets by his feet. He grabbed a pair of pants by the foot of the bed and pulled them on.
'Something strange is going on here and I'm gonna find out what it is.'
He left through the same door she had gone through and precariously walked down the hall. He still had no idea where he was but jumped to the conclusion that this was a house, much smaller to what he was used to but then again everything around him since he woke up has been anything but familiar. All along the walls he noticed dozens among dozens of framed photos strewn about. It almost reminded him of the many pictures hanging on the walls of Hogwarts. Except these ones were a lot smaller in size and were immobile.
'Hang on. They're not moving. Why aren't they moving?'
Leaning closer, he inspected them. He roughly tapped on its surface and waited. Nothing. No shouting, no insults, nothing. Puzzled, he stared at the people within the frame. And sure enough, there was him and Hermione. But what occupied most of the wall were faces of children. Children who resembled people he's seen all his life but never met. His mind began at work to put places and names with these children smiling merrily at the camera when light, tiny footsteps broke his concentration, which was shortly followed by squeals of laughter.
Draco whirled around to see no one but then caught a glimpse of a dark mop of hair by his feet. A little boy no more than 3 years old ran past him to the edge of the stairs.
"Hey!" The boy turned around looking at Draco with innocent eyes. Draco said the first thing that came to mind. "Where's your parents?" The boy laughed again and hurried down the steps. Draco glanced around him wildly as if expecting his father or mother to chase after him. After finally deciding no one was gonna show up, he trailed after the boy. "No, wait!" By the time he got to the top of the stairs, he saw the child had already safely made it to the bottom and scurried away.
He slowly came down as well, following loud voices and what sounds like sizzling in the supposed kitchen. Draco swung the door open to be wafted by the aroma of bacon and eggs surrounding him. Inside, he saw Hermione by a table feeding a light brown-haired baby on her lap. A girl with shimmery-almost white-blonde hair sat at the bar drinking a glass of milk, and cereal sitting in front of her. The boy, with dark hair was carelessly climbing onto a stool next to the little girl.
"Jonathan be careful," Hermione cautioned to the young boy. "Sean, could you please help him?"
A tall young man, almost reaching 6'2 and about 17 or 18, turned away from attending to the stovetop to pick up the little boy and settled him in his seat. "Here ya are, Jon-Jon," he said, placing a large glass of milk in front of him. Jon-Jon lifted it to his lips and gurgled. He laughed as well as the blonde girl.
"What did I tell you about playing with your food?" Hermione scolded. Jon-Jon lowered his head but was still giggling to himself. Just as Sean was turning back to the bacon and eggs, he caught sight of the topless Draco staring blankly at them by the door.
"Mornin' Mr. M," Sean greeted him. Draco, though stunned, attempted a forced smile. The children looked up too.
"Hi Daddy," they chorused together. Draco nervously glanced over his shoulder to see no one standing behind him.
'Are they talking to me?'
Mentally shrugging it off, he sat himself down on the nearest chair as Sean dropped a plate of scrambled eggs with green pepper and onions with several strips of bacon on the side.
"Uh—thanks…Sean is it?" Draco fumbled out. Sean looked up, obviously surprised, but didn't say anything, only nodded. Draco stared down his plate and frowned. "Wait, how did you know how I liked my eggs?"
Sean stared at him as if the answer to that was pretty clear. "That's how you always ask for them," he replied plainly, then turning back to cooking the rest of the food. Draco was at a lost and a little dazed quite frankly, but was he ever starving. He picked up his fork and took a bite. Whatever supernatural situation he was dealing with would have to wait until later. First breakfast.
"Well I should get ready for work," Hermione said standing up, setting the baby down on the ground. The baby (whom was a boy) began to wobble about, rather than walk, on his two hind chubby little legs: typical of a 10-month old baby.
'Okay what should I do… I should find father. He'll know what to do. Wait, what if this is just some sort of sick joke by Potter and friends. Trying to make a fool out of a Malfoy! If it is…they will pay severely. Ha! But it's not even like them to hire these midgets and pretend that I'm their father… No, it has to be a joke. How else would you explain everyth-'
Draco's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the backdoor sliding open and in stepped the last person he wanted to see: Harry Potter.
"G'morning Malfoys!" he greeted the entire kitchen cheerfully. Draco suddenly spat out his coffee in surprise. He never thought he'd live to see the day the Great Harry Potter would be saying that with a smile on his face. Hang on; did he just say "Malfoys"?
"and Sean," Harry added, grinning at the teenager over by the sink.
"Uncle Harry!" the children chimed excitedly. Harry walked over to the bar where they sat, separating the kitchen from the dining room.
"Hey Rina, Jon-Jon," he said to them, ruffling the little boy's hair. "Where's Andy?"
Potter looked much the same as he ever did, only older now (since he is) and his rugged appearance much more intimidating and masculine, though Draco would never admit it. But really, how could anyone mistake the Boy-Who-Lived for anyone else? What other idiotic moron would have that same blasted scar, own the same damn glasses, and sport that ruddy hair of his for nearly two decades? Honestly, does the man even own a comb?' Draco thought to himself.
Suddenly he felt tugging on his leg. He looked down to see a baby wrapped around his left ankle. He tried to gently shake him off but the baby had a pretty strong hold. Hermione then re-entered the kitchen dressed in business-like attire.
"Carina, honey, would you please clean your room-" she stopped mid-sentence when she spotted Harry standing in the middle of her kitchen. "Harry, what are you doing here? I thought you had practices weekday mornings."
"I do but Davies got food poisoning last night. But he should be fine in a day or two-thanks Sean," Harry averted his eyes to the teenager then picked up the glass of orange juice which was just handed to him.
"Off, get off," Draco whispered to the toddler, still clinging onto his ankle. He shook his leg again but it only made the baby smile back, exposing his two front and only teeth while strings of saliva dribbled down his chin and onto Draco's pant leg. "Oh gross." Draco made a face.
"Ooh there he is!" Hermione bent down and scooped up the baby in her arms. "There's our little Andreus…always clinging to daddy." She gave Draco a cheeky smile and he returned it with a look of confusion. Harry chuckled.
"You hate your kid so much you just had to go give him a name like 'Andreus'," he joked. Hermione punched him on the arm. "Ow! I need this arm for quidditch."
"Well mommy has to go before she's late for work." She set baby Andy down in his play pen and kissed Rina and Jon-Jon goodbye.
"Bye Mommy."
When Hermione reached Draco she looked at him expectantly. "Bye Draco."
He just sat still by the bar, barely moving a muscle. "Yea…erm-okay," he responded not bothering to turn around. Hermione frowned and was about to say something but decided against it and left. Harry, who had been watching, eyed him carefully.
"Hey Sean, do you mind taking the kids upstairs so they can brush their teeth?" Harry asked, insinuating he wanted to talk to Draco alone.
"Sure. C'mon guys." With that, Sean took up one kid under each arm and marched up the steps.
"So-" Harry turned back to face Draco but he had already gotten up and pinned Harry to the nearest wall.
"Alright Potter. Start talking."
Harry stared at him bewildered. "Huh?"
"Where am I and what have you done to me!"
"Draco, what do you mean?"
"You know damn well what I mean. Look at me! Look at my hair!" Draco was now shaking him by the collar.
"Um…it's nice?" Harry answered uncertainly, shrugging.
"Oh very funny Potter. I bet it wouldn't be so hilarious if I hexed you." He reached in his pocket to grab his wand but realized he had no pockets. 'Damn!'
Harry continued staring at Draco as if he had grown a hippogriff head on his shoulders. "Are you hungover?"
Draco was silent for a moment. "I don't know, maybe…Hey! Don't change the subject Scarhead. Where.Am.I!" His fury had pushed his vocal chords into a shout.
Harry raised his hands in a defeated gesture. "Calm yourself Draco! You're at home."
The blonde scoffed. "How daft do you think I am? The manor looks nothing like-"
"Manor?" Harry intervened, confusion in his eyes. "You haven't set foot in the Malfoy Manor for years."
Draco's hardened face softened to apprehension. "What..?" he said quietly.
"You haven't lived there since you fell in love with 'Mione and moved in together after graduation." Draco released Harry from his grasp, his hands reddened from the pooled up blood of the pressure.
'This is impossible. Me, Draco Malfoy, a pureblood, falling in love with Granger? No, he's lying. He has to be.'
"Gr-graduation?" Draco stuttered out, allowing himself to fall back into a chair.
Harry took this opportunity to straighten out his ruffled collars. "Yea, our graduation from Hogwarts, remember? It was only 8 years ago."
Draco's eyes shot up. "8 years ago?" That explains why… Hang on. But that would mean I'm in the future.
Harry nodded slowly, approaching him with caution. "Draco, what's the matter with you? You're looking paler than usual."
"No I'm fine," he snapped, and without warning rose out of his seat again, causing Harry to jump back. "And stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Calling me Draco! You always call me Malfoy, or Ferret, or even git!"
Harry just rolled his eyes. "Right… why don't I take you to work now? I'll even fix up your hangover for you." He practically shoved Draco into the fireplace and tossed him a jacket. Draco opened his mouth in protest but the raven-haired Boy-Wonder had already thrown floo powder into the fireplace.
"Ministry of Magic Sports Centre office!"
In a blaze of green flame, the furniture of the living room had all but disappeared. Draco coughed and choked on the green dust floating around him, as he had forgotten to close his mouth in the middle of his protest. He opened his eyes again and stepped out of the fireplace into a completely new setting. To be frank, it was an ordinary office: shelves stacked with books, framed covers of Quidditch Weekly hanging on the walls, and all sorts of all-star memorabilia found everywhere. He was about to look through the drawers of the desk when someone burst into the room in frantic.
It was a medium height woman, with glasses, who looked fresh out of school. Her dull brown hair was up in a messy ponytail and she carried folders of paper in her arms. "Mr. Malfoy! Thank Merlin you're here." She rushed to his side and tugged on his arm. Then finally realizing she was touching the bare skin of his forearms, she pulled her hands back and blushed furiously.
"I-I'm Kaitlyn. The boss's new secretary," she said, avoiding his eyes from embarrassment, cheeks turning pink. "He's been asking for you all morning."
Noticing she was quietly staring at his bare chest from the corners of her eye, he shoved his arms into the jacket, pulling it on. He allowed her to lead him down the corridor where his "boss's" office was. They stopped in front of a door with a sign that read, "Manager of Game Operations".
"Sir," Kaitlyn said opening the door. "Mr. Malfoy's here."
"It's about time," came a voice from behind the large plush chair. "Thanks Kaitlyn. That'll be all."
She turned to leave when Draco suddenly grabbed her arm. "Do you know what I do?" he asked her in a hushed voice.
"Pardon me?"
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "My job. What's my position?"
She looked worried, as if she'd been asked a trick question. "Um…y-you're Head of Public Relations. For the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
A smirk crept onto his lips, as if some diabolical plan was forming in the depths of his mind. "I need you to do something. I need you to find Blaise Zabini, understand?"
Kaitlyn nodded feverously as if she had no choice then swiftly left the room.
"Malfoy, I thought you'd never make it in this morning," the voice from the chair said again. "Lemme guess… the kids begging you to stay home with them today?"
Draco recognized that voice. Actually he recognized that voice in the form of a drawl. It almost sounded unnatural without the customary insult as its companion. Then he saw it. The back of a head covered in… is that red hair? Nah, it can't possibly. His eyes shifted to the desktop where a nameplate rested. One which contained the words, much to Draco's horror, "Manager, Ronald Weasley".
'Weasel? I work for that no good weasel! Perfect…this is just bloody perfect!' he screamed in his head sarcastically. 'No, having Potter in my life permanently wasn't enough but why not throw in Granger as my wife and this doofus as my boss as well!'
Draco felt a sudden urge to break some legs.
Ron spun around on his chair to face the fuming blonde. "Malfoy I'm gonna need you to start preparations for the big tournament in two weeks." He went on talking about the rest of the details which needed to be taken care of but Draco had tuned him out. All he could think about was how much joy it would bring him to curse this redhead into oblivion. "Did you get that Malfoy?"
Draco just nodded nonchalantly. "Sure," he responded trying hard not to grit his teeth. He was on his way to exit the office when Ron opened his mouth again.
"Hey, next time you come in for work, where a shirt. Oh and don't forget. The twins' birthday party starts at 7 tonight. I bet Hermione forgot, didn't she?" Draco pretended not to hear and just left without saying anything.
He was walking back down the corridor the way he came when he noticed his name on one of the doors. He entered it and assumed it must be his office. It was a lot smaller than Weasley's office, which bothered him. He picked up a moving picture ofhim wearing a pointed paper hat with Hermione and a small toddler at a child's birthday party.Apparently the Draco in the picture looked like he was having the time of his life.
"What the hell are you smililng at?" he said icily to the picture.No more than several minutes passed when Kaitlyn pushed open his door, allowing herself in.
"Don't you ever knock," he snapped at her. She anxiously bit her lip, preparing an apology.
"I'm sorry. I-"
"Never mind," he interrupted with utter bitterness; a tone that could even make Lucius proud.
"I—uh—found your friend… Mr. Zabini," she stuttered. "He's—uh—living uptown. But the house elves say you could find him most likely at this address." She handed him a small piece of parchment.