Whales? Wtf was wrong with me:-)
My inspiration for chapter nine, the Bloodhound Gang, right Kat? Hahahaha.
On with the chapter.
Chapter Ten
A figure heavily cloaked in lush, rich fabrics revealed herself from the shadows.
"W-who is that?" Dylan stammered rather frightened.
"Lavish scarlet velvet, who else can it be? Beloved godmother?" Draco whispered fondly. Enchanted, he stood from his seat.
The mystifying woman held an elegant hand up, motioning her godson to halt in his steps.
An incantation emitted from beneath the hood of the cloak. Silencing spell…ancient, powerful spells.
Quite satisfied with her enchantments intended to confine the conversation soon to commence shortly between herself and the Malfoy twosome, with two tender hands she took hold of her hood, unveiling herself.
"Hello, Draco. Precious godson." Minerva McGonagall spoke gently.
"Dear Merlin, I-I fought so viciously to see you before I was sent to Azkaban. They just wouldn't let me." Draco fell into her arms.
"You know it was simply not possible. Your mother and I made a pact to keep our alliance restricted from all. It was just not safe, Draco." Minerva kissed the quivering young man's forehead.
"Are you from this time? Fuck, I shouldn't have said that." Draco bit his tongue remorsefully.
"Cease that awful language at once, Draco Alexander! And if I were from this time, don't you think I would have had the courtesy of using the door, or perhaps the fireplace to greet your lovely wife? Honestly Draco! Why would your son be asking who I am? Surely he would of met me more than one occasion if I were from this time, one- for being your godmother, or two- Hermione and I are very close, without a doubt she would have introduced me to your family, correct? There were more than a few occurrences I have doubted Professor Dumbledore for promoting you to Head Boy your seventh year, Draco! Sometimes you just seem to lack the intelligence you're so often praised for."
Astounded by the massive scolding he'd just been given, and in front of his son no less, Draco was rendered speechless.
"I expect you have enough decency to introduce me to your dashing son to begin with." Minerva raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her godson expectantly.
"Godmother McGonagall, this is my eldest son, Dylan Lucius, who- ironically, is only three years younger than me. Now, you would not know anything about a three year old being able to conceive at such a tender age, would you? Because apparently, that's my story! Makes no sense whatsoever! You aren't possibly here because I am a nineteen year old felon who is mentally trapped in my 30 year old self, are you?" Draco could no longer bite his tongue, he had to know why.
Dylan had extended his hand out to take his father's godmother's hand, placing a chaste kiss upon it. As his father continued to seethe, her grip on Dylan's hand tightened.
"How dare you Draco Malfoy! Patience certainly is not a virtue you possess. I think that virtue will be taught to you today. Dylan, how do you do?" Minerva frowned at Draco, directing her attention to Dylan.
"Quite fine, actually ma'am. Thank you for asking. You wouldn't possibly be the retired Headmistress of Hogwarts, would you?" Dylan offered his seat to the aging woman, who grateful accepted the offer.
Childishly crossing his arms, Draco took a seat as well.
"I am, as a matter of fact, a former Headmistress of Hogwarts." Minerva beamed as she spoke, Dylan sat in the remaining seat beside her, a solemn expression tainting his face as she gave her response to his question.
"When my Grandmother died, you couldn't will yourself to live anymore. My mother told me you took your own life shortly after my grandmother's death." Dylan glanced at his father.
"I didn't know she was your godmother, Dad. I guess... having lost both of them contributed greatly to the alterations you made in your life. I understand now, it makes sense."
Minerva gasped lightly.
"I took my own life? I was aware that I was deceased in this dimension but the cause of death was left unknown to me. I suppose now I understand why." Minerva spoke mournfully.
Slowly, Minerva's intense fell on her debonair godson. He looked awfully troubled.
Come, come, Minerva, who would not be troubled in his position? And you're not making it any easier on him, are you? Her conscious spat disapprovingly at her.
"Draco, dear…Yes, I am here to speak to you about your current err..., situation. But, trust me when I tell you that it was not I who sent you here." Minerva sighed.
Entranced by the elderly woman, Dylan sat back lazily, preparing to witness the intriguing conversation soon to take place.
"Who did this then? What were they thinking? Was this a sick joke? To show me what I cannot have? Something I'm not worthy of!" Draco spat.
"Of course not, don't be foolish! Think... you were sentenced to Azkaban for life, accused of a crime you did not commit. You're free from Azkaban here, but not free from imprisonment. You're imprisoned by your destructive behavior. Therefore, to correct your bold statement earlier, your worlds do align. Just not in so subtle ways." He inhaled the answers in slowly, tediously processing each word.
"What are you trying to say, godmother? That there is some freak in our time that disturbingly plays the role of my child? Let me guess who, my house elves maybe?" Draco snorted at his own sarcasm.
"Mock me if you so wish. I only speak the truth." Minerva sniffed.
"I'm sorry for my behavior, this is a bit too much for me. Continue please, I'll try to bite my tongue." Draco ran his quivering fingers through his hair.
"You were sent here for the mere reason of finding out for yourself that it is not too late, Draco. You're thirty-five, soon to be thirty-six here, but in our time, you're merely a young man struggling out of boyhood. A few days here has changed you immensely, Draco. And I am so, so proud of you for that. Changes we expected from you, changes that we needed from you."
"We? Who is included in that 'we'?" Draco pondered aloud.
"Who else, my dear? Albus and I! You and Ms. Granger thought you could fool either of us? You could not even fool the school! It was as clear as the scar on Mr. Potter's head! Your romance was not mentioned, no... but we all knew. Honestly, did you think we were all that daft?
"Oh the poor dear, I watched that heart wrenching incident at Malfoy Estate during your arrest, Merlin I was crying myself! Something just didn't seem right with Ms. Granger that day. I went to see her, you know. She was an awful mess, looking terribly sickly. What can one expect from a woman who'd just given bir-" Minerva gasped, breaking into a fit of coughs.
The abrupt ending of the conversation was forgotten as the two men rushed to her aide.
"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine. That's just Albus' signal, I must take my leave. I simply wanted to check on my boy, which I have. And, to tell you…your time is dwindling, my dear." Minerva stood from her seat, smoothing the imperfections out of her robes.
Before either man could protest, Minerva continued to speak.
"And Draco, he is simply lovely."
"Dylan? Yes, he certainly is." Draco beamed rays of a proud father.
"It will be such a joy to watch him grow to be the young man before me." Minerva planted a sweet kiss on the young man's forehead.
Draco's perplexed orbs greeted her as she met his eyes.
"What do you mean by that? That made no sense, godmother. I think you're possibly losing your touch."
"Goodbye for now, Draco. Dylan, we'll meet again sooner than you think, dear boy!"
000
Dazed and confused, the father and son decided to rejoin their family currently gathered by the lake, enjoying afternoon tea.
Crunching footsteps echoed endlessly, keeping the silence between the two not-so awkward.
As they neared the family, the fearfulsqueaking of a house elf greeted the Malfoy men.
"Oh no, Mistress cannot drink Dragon's Blood tea!" Goopy, the tea server house elf shrieked at Hermione forebodingly.
"And why not?" Helena asked calmly, as she sipped on her own tea.
Draco stopped in his tracks, his blood ran cold. Something was wrong.
Dylan felt the warmth of his fathers' closeness disappear. His blood too ran cold.
"There is a little one residing in the womb of Mistress. Goopy knows Dragon's Blood tea is harmful for the little one."
A deafening silence pierced the peace of the afternoon.
"I-I'm pregnant!"
"Yes, Mistress. Goopy's insight in little ones is not to be wrong. Goopy foreseen Master Malfoy's presence in Mistress Narcissa." The house elf feverishly nodded his head, as if to emphasize the strength of his power.
"Draco!" Hermione breathed, disbelieving delight lit her eyes.
"Love, perhaps you should drink your tea." Draco approached her slowly.
Her smile faltered.
"Did you not just hear what Goopy informed me of?" Her voice shook faintly.
"I am no imbecile. I heard the elf. Get rid of it. Drink the tea, Hermione."
DUN DUN DUN. What the hell is wrong with him? Is the old Draco back suddenly? Shouldn't 'Azkaban' Draco be ecstatic! Uh oh, Wtf! What will happen? Anyone know?
Raises hand-
"I do!"
"Can you tell us, Kristine?"
"Yes, by the next update, you all will defiantly know, I promise!"
Smiles sweetly-
Kristine!
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Have a great Easter my faithful fans!