Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would have a professional piano player teach me to play. Every day. For the rest of my life. So I could play amazingly well and astound people. Lol
IMPORTANT NOTICE: so I deleted the second chapter, the one that only held the disclaimer for chapter 1, becasue I figure, I don't need it anymore, so now all the chapters are one off from what they used to be, but the disclaimer for chapter one still holds, I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it
Alexandria J Malfoy- glad you like it and found it funny
Rema-hmmm, empty broom closet, now that's an idea, lol I love your reviews, thanks
Wizzabee-sorry its taken awhile, but I went home for fall break, and had zero time
DCod- thank you so much, I also enjoy the bantering b/t Harry and Draco
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"Damn it!" Draco practically screamed. He whirled around, phone in hand, and sent it hurtling towards the wall. There was such force behind his throw that the cord jerked straight out of the phone jack and joined the receiver and cradle to its impromptu death at the mercy of a white plaster wall.
Draco stared at the shattered remains of his telephone, stormed over to his door, and threw it open. It crashed into the wall, bounced back and struck him on the back of the head. He swore again, in French this time, and turned to round on his secretary.
"Shells, get maintenance up here. My phone won't work." His tone was perhaps a bit too harsh; she hadn't done anything.
She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "That tends to happen when you throw it against the wall," she said in a warning tone that clearly meant 'I'm not in the mood for one of your temper tantrums Draco, so don't even start with me'. For some reason that just seemed to infuriate Draco even more, but he knew better than to mess with Shelia when she had that tone of voice, so he settled for slamming the door. He threw himself into his chair and stared up at the ceiling, tugging at his hair all the while.
It was Tuesday, Tuesday right before noon. In eight hours it would be seven and Draco would have to go to the Burrow for a family dinner. He had been looking forward to the get-together until yesterday when the English economy had gone to hell and had packed the entire wizarding community in a hand basket and taken them along with it. Now he was being hounded by the press and fielding questions from reporters and Ministry officials who were all wondering what the hell was going on. Draco had a frustrated urge to tell them that once he had figured out how to open up the basket, he would be able to take a look around and let them know.
His door swung open and he glared at Ginny who had barged in.
"Damn it, Malfoy," she said, "some of us are trying to work, so would you keep your voice down and stop slamming your bloody door?"
"I'll slam my bloody door if I bloody well feel like it," he shot back, angry and lashing out.
"Fine," she said, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "I just won't be able to hear what the people on the other end of the line are saying and I won't be able to tell you that you have an appointment at six-thirty today with the head of St. Mungo's Hospital to thank you for your support and to suggest additional funding."
She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her, obviously not wanting to deal with him while he was in this funk. Draco noted in annoyance that she slammed the door louder than he did. He sighed and went back to staring at the ceiling and tugging at his hair, only this time he spun around in slow circles as he did so, trying to clear his mind.
It wasn't the fact that the economy had dropped that set him off; it was the fact that it had dropped a point yesterday and another point today. That's two points, two points. He had expected a drop; it was natural for a recovering economy to swoop slightly, but two points was bloody ridiculous. He had expected a drop of .4 points. He had planned for a decrease of .8 just to be on the safe side. He had miscalculated the drop, which meant he had made an error, and the economy was down by two, which meant he had done something wrong. But what?
He groaned in frustration and searched for another phone to throw.
The door opened again and Ginny practically ran in.
"Hermione's having her baby; she's at St.Mungo's right now. Look, I know you said no time off unless I schedule it, but could I please go be with her. There's really nothing for me to do for this week anyway, I have it all planned out, the itinerary's on my desk and all ready to go. So can I please take the rest of the day off?" she asked, all in one breath.
"The rest of the day off?" Draco asked, incredulous. "It's eleven in the morning."
"I know," said Ginny, "but I'm practically done for this week."
"What about next week? And what about that Remmingten Company? Did you finish that?" Draco asked.
"Well, no," said Ginny, coloring slightly. "But I have to be there. She's two weeks early and she had such trouble last time it scared us all. Please, can I go? I'll come back as soon as the baby is born and we know everyone is going to be alright."
"And that could take the rest of the day," said Draco. "And what are you going to do there? Sit in a waiting room with nothing to do and they won't even let you back to see her."
"She's my sister," said Ginny simply.
"In law," Draco finished. He sighed and buried his head in his hands. "I want to have a rough schedule of next week's meetings drawn up," he said finally. "But as long as I have it in my email account by six this evening, I don't care where you do it."
Ginny gave an excited little hop. "Thank you so much, Draco," she said. "I swear I'll have it done by five." She literally ran to the door, but then stopped. "Oh, the family dinner is cancelled because of recent events and thank you again."
She left, this time closing the door nicely behind her. Draco let his head drop onto his desk feeling, for some reason he couldn't fathom, very alone.
The day seemed to drag by without Ginny there. He attended his meetings by himself, missing the snide little comments she would mutter under her breath and the way her fun personality always seemed to make those boring conferences a little more enjoyable. The economy slipped another .3 points making Draco bang his head repeatedly on his desk. At five o'clock he checked his email and discovered the itinerary along with a side note of Ginny's.
Draco,
Here's the schedule for next week and thank you again for letting me off, I know that things must be hectic with the failing economy and all. Things here aren't going so well either. Hermione's been in labor for six hours and nothing has happened yet, but then again the Healer's reassure us that sometimes these things just take a while. Well, I should probably go now as we are about to scope out the cafeteria for dinner, but who knows if it is edible or not. I may have to run out for food later tonight. I hope that all of your meetings have gone well today and I will see you tomorrow morning for work.
Ginny
Draco glanced at the clock and then flipped through the phone book. Once he had found the right number he picked up the new phone maintenance had installed while he was in a meeting and dialed.
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At precisely six-thirty he flooed to the Head of St. Mungo's Office and met the skinny man with a smile and a firm handshake. They went through the niceties and polite conversation starters and then finally onto business. St. Mungo's was failing. It was the only hospital in the area, but as people could no longer afford to pay for the hospital, fewer and fewer people came. The hospital was forced to cut most of its staff, and the building was falling under disrepair and now only sections of the once grand building were useable. The benefactor who would help them fix the hospital would have a new wing named after them. This wing would primarily deal with those suffering from dark curses or those who had post-traumatic stress disorder from the war. Draco signed the paper then pulled his laptop out of his briefcase case and sent an email to Gringotts telling them he would be there in the morning to transfer a large amount of money from his private vault into his company funds. He then promised the man that an advance of 500 galleons would be on his desk tomorrow and that he hoped St. Mungo's would use New Foundation's Construction for the repairs. The head assured him that they would and Draco left, but not by Floo.
He headed to the delivery wing, noticing that the hospital really could use the funding as many halls were deserted and the rooms branching off were dark and the doors were locked. He had to stop and consult a map to find out exactly where delivery was because all of the sectors had been halved in size and shoved together haphazardly. He noticed with a frown that delivery was just a single room right off of the main waiting lobby and headed down three flights of stairs to the lounge area.
He could hear them before he could see them; in fact, he could hear them an entire floor up. It sounded as if the entire Weasley family was present, which he suspected it might be. He was suddenly nervous and he paused in front of the door, listening to the voices as his stomach twisted inside of him. He took a steadying breath, gripped his briefcase in a tighter than necessary hold, and pushed open the door.
The entire Weasley family was there, along with some people Draco did not know in the least, but Snape was there, as was Harry and Blaise. He came in unnoticed as the group was too wrapped up in whatever Ginny was saying. She was in a chair, and the others in chairs or couches in a circle around her. It was an odd mismatched plethora of furniture, and Draco vaguely wondered if he should be a sport and chip in and get the hospital new chairs as well so that it wouldn't be such an eyesore.
"So then the Quidditch team got Draco on the platform," Ginny was saying, "and I dunked him as well."
"You didn't!" said several voices.
"My idea," said Harry, rather smugly.
"Was it now, Potter?" Draco drawled out. The entire circle jumped and heads snapped in his direction.
"Oh, hello Draco," said Harry, squirming under Draco's rehearsed death glare. Draco inwardly smirked then turned to Ginny.
"Any particular reason we are having this discussion?" he asked.
Ginny handed him a paper from a few days ago. On it was a picture of him and Harry, soaking wet and walking down the stairs of the tank. The second was of them throwing Ginny into the water. The caption read "Post-Carnival Pastimes". He turned his glare on the paper and then realized it probably wouldn't affect inanimate objects.
"Thank you for the dinner Drake," said Blaise speaking up.
"What dinner?" asked Draco.
Blaise grinned at his friend. "The one that was catered to us about an hour ago. See, the hospital doesn't allow outside food, but in this case they made an exception, so I figured that the only person they would make an exception for is one that they are courting for more financial support, and that would be you. Besides, you're the only one that can afford to hire Rinaldi's Catering Services."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "You could too," he said.
"But I risked my health and ate at the café right before the food came. Why on earth would I eat right before I ordered a catering service? So thanks. It was nice."
He had a point. No man would eat hospital food when catering would arrive in half an hour, not even if they were trying to fool people into thinking they didn't know it was coming.
"Don't mention it," Draco said, then changed the subject. "Where's Pansy?"
"She's back at the house with the kids."
"Oh," said Draco. Blaise moved over on the couch he was hogging all by himself and Draco pulled off his coat and sat next to him, dumping his coat and his laptop on the floor next to the sofa.
"Along with Hermione's kids," said Blaise. Draco shot him a look. "She's babysitting," Blaise explained. "For Hermione, and also for Faye, and Fleur, and Penny."
Draco stared at him. "At my house," he said, his brain trying to grasp that fact.
"Well, yes," said Blaise. "But it's not like you live there or anything. You're always at your office."
"How many kids are at my house?" asked Draco.
"Including mine? Eleven."
Draco's mask slid up as it always did when he didn't know how to respond. Blaise noticed and decided to change the topic.
"But you don't know everyone here," said Blaise. "Alright, to my left is Mrs. Weasley, but you know her." Draco nodded to the woman who looked exactly the same from the last time he saw her except that her hair was streaked with white. But her brown eyes were still as warm as ever and she even had a smile for Draco, which was surprising considering as his father had killed her husband.
"Next to her is Charlie Weasley. Charlie works with dragons."
"You were one of the dragon trainers that came fourth year," said Draco, recognizing the stocky red-head who had inherited his mother's welcoming eyes.
"Yep," said Charlie, who also smiled. Again, a surprise, but he quickly noted that none around the circle seemed to be looking at him with hostile intent. "I like your name."
Draco actually smiled at that, a small smile, but it was still a smile.
"And this is my wife Faye," said Charlie, giving the woman next to him an adoring look. She looked part faerie, like her name implied, with dark brown curling hair, perfectly tan skin and wild, exotic lavender eyes.
"Pleased to meet you," she said, smiling as well, and Draco detected a trace of Irish accent in her voice which proved his suspicion.
"Charlie and Faye have two children, Gabriella and Michael. They're twins and are seven years old," said Blaise, continuing the commentary. "Next to him are Fred and George, you already know them."
"Doesn't mean we're not important," said Fred.
"Absolutely not," said George, nodding his head in agreement.
"Would you like a piece of candy Draco?" asked Fred.
"You looked half starved," said George holding out a blue sweet.
"Exactly how stupid do you think I am?" asked Draco, earning laughs from the crowd. "But I do need to talk to you later about you producing that capture the flag game. It was a hit."
"Knew it would be," said Fred.
"Of course we knew it," said George, putting the candy back into the dish on the table in front of him.
"And next to them is Snape, again you know him."
"Sev," said Draco nodding. His godfather merely raised an eyebrow in response, looking very dark next to all of the red-headed Weasleys.
"And next to him is Harry, and that's Percy Weasley and his wife Penny."
"Delighted to meet you," said Percy, sincerely. Draco remembered him from Hogwarts; he was Head boy once, and he believed that the dark haired woman with the pale blue eyes was once Head girl, but he couldn't be sure.
"Percy and Penny have Emeric who is eight. And next to him are Bill and Fleur, who have three kids, Gavin who is seven, Alette who is six and Helena who is four. And next to them is your lovely business manager. I'll give you the cheat sheet when we get back home."
There was laughter at this remark and Draco kept running over the names in his head hoping to keep them all straight.
"Why are you here?" asked Charlie curiously.
"Had a meeting with Fenway," said Draco. "Then I figured I'd stop by and see how everyone was doing. How's Hermione?"
"Still nothing yet," said Penny. "They had her walking the halls a while ago."
"I had to walk when I had the twins," said Faye. "But I got to walk in the mall, much more entertaining and it took my mind off the pain."
Fleur shook her head. "I wouldn't want that," she said, her accent much lighter than her Hogwarts days. "I would be looking at all the things I want but wouldn't be able to fit into."
"That's true," said Penny. "It took me four months to get all the weight off from Emeric."
"I think I still have some from Amandine," said Pansy coming in the room. She spotted Draco. "Oh, good, you're here. I wanted to warn you that you have more guests at the estate."
"So I hear," said Draco, returning the hug she gave him. She then sat in between Draco and Blaise, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek.
"Well, all the children are down for the night, except Emeric who is doing some reading. I swear Penny, that boy has an attitude."
"He gets it from his uncles," said Percy glaring at the twins.
"Not our fault he's not a prig like you," said Fred cheerfully.
"You realize that if you were a rebel type, he would be completely by the rules, just to annoy you?" asked George.
"That's the way kids are," said Fred sagely.
"The exact opposite you want them to be," said George wisely.
"I wouldn't say that," said Faye. "I love my angels."
"Wait 'til they reach their teens," said Mrs. Weasley, a good-humored warning in her voice.
"Hey," exclaimed half of the group.
"We weren't that bad, mum," said Bill.
"We could have been worse," said Charlie.
"Yeah, we could have run off and joined a circus," said Percy.
The other Weasley children present turned to look at their brother in disgust.
"'Joined a circus'?" Fred asked, incredulous.
"Is that the best you can come up with?" George asked in revulsion.
"It was pretty lame Perc," said Bill.
"You could have said, 'Run off and joined a traveling band of squirrels' and it would have been better than the circus example," said Charlie.
"You should have said something like 'We could have run off and slept around with a bunch of different girls and ended up impregnating six of them'," said Ginny. "Although in my case it would be getting in the sack with six different guys and ending up pregnant and then having to do an identity charm because I don't know who the father is."
The women laughed while the red-headed men present focused their attention on their little sister.
"Gin, where did you get that skirt?" asked Fred, narrowing his eyes as he took in his sister's appearance. Ginny was wearing a white knee length skirt and a form fitting black button up shirt with white accents. Her shoes were kicked off and the top two buttons of the shirt were undone. Draco thought she looked modest and yet incredibly sexy at the same time.
"Don't you think it's a little short?" asked George.
"Here they go in their protective mode again," Ginny sighed to Pansy, and as Draco was in between them, he picked up on it.
"It may be better to button your shirt up as well," said Fred.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Ginny. "I'm not even showing cleavage!"
Draco quickly started mentally listing the ingredients needed for Veritaserum and began brewing the potion in his head to get the image of Ginny with her shirt unbuttoned to an extreme point out of his head.
"What?" choked out Fred.
"The fact that you would even think about that is, is,…Mum, tell her she's too young," said George.
"She's a woman now, boys," said Mrs. Weasley. "And there is nothing wrong with the way she dresses." It was obvious she was trying not to laugh.
"Harry, do you think of Ginny in an inappropriate way when she's dressed the way she is right now?" asked Fred.
"Why do you always ask me?" Harry complained, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
"Because you're the only young, unattached male here," said George.
"No he's not," Charlie pointed out. It seemed that he and Bill were quite fine with their independent little sister.
The twins turned to Draco.
"Well, Malfoy, let's here it," said Fred.
"Do you, Ferret-boy, think bad thoughts when you look at Ginny because of how she dresses?" asked George.
"I'm afraid that I am unable to answer that question," said Draco calmly as all eyes fastened on his face.
"And why is that?" asked Fred dangerously.
"Yes, do tell," said George in the same tone.
Draco cocked his head slightly to the side. "If I did admit to think inappropriate thoughts because of the way your sister dresses, I would no doubt be cursed until next Sunday by the avenging members of your family. While that may appease your anger, it would only insure that Ginevra would not feel in the least bit persuaded to dress any differently. In fact, she may dress in a manner even more inappropriate by your standards merely to prove that she does not need you to look after her. If I told you that, no, I do not think of Ginevra in a lascivious manner because of how she dresses, you would not believe me and immediately think that I am lying to cover up for myself, and Ginny would still dress the way she does.
"And there is also another reason to why I cannot answer the question and that is because I am her employer and that question is unseemly for me to respond to in any way. We have a smooth, professional relationship and I refuse to answer as it may jeopardize our association."
There was silence when he finished, followed by applause from everyone except Fred and George.
"Nice," said Bill. "That is the smoothest I have ever seen anyone get out of that."
"Very impressive," said Charlie.
"Good way of covering your arse," said Faye in approval.
"Very tactful," said Mrs. Weasley.
Draco allowed himself to relax slightly; it seemed as if he had past the first pop test with flying colors. Yelling from down the hall caught everyone's attention.
"DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME TO BE CALM, RONALD WEASLEY. YOU HAVE NOT BEEN IN LABOR FOR THE PAST EIGHT HOURS!"
"Mione, I'm sorry," came Ron's voice. It was apparent the door was open.
"You had better be sorry! It's your damn fault I'm laying here with a stomach the size of a watermelon with a baby coming out my arse!" yelled Hermione. "You just leave if I look so bad!"
There was the sound of a calming voice, and then a door shutting, and then a pale, disheveled Ron Weasley trudged into the room.
"What happened?" asked Mrs. Weasley, concerned.
"She said that she probably looked like hell, and I said she did look pretty tired, and she blew up at me," said Ron wearily. "We are never having another kid again."
"You should have told her she had never looked more beautiful," said Faye.
"She told me before she didn't want any of that crap," said Ron.
"She was just saying that," said Fleur.
"Do you want me to go in and check on her?" asked Snape, speaking up for the first time since Draco had entered the room. Draco was surprised to note that there was actually concern in his godfather's voice.
"Would you?" asked Ron. "That would be brilliant. Thanks, Snape."
Sev gave a nod and swept out of the room. Ron collapsed on an empty chair next to his mother who reached out and pulled him into an embrace. Ron nearly broke down and Draco felt distinctly uncomfortable watching the display of affection.
"I just don't want to lose her," Ron mumbled into his mother's shoulder. "Last time, when she nearly died, I-I…," he trailed off as Mrs. Weasley shushed him.
"Shh, baby. She's going to be fine. Severus is with her now to make sure everything is all right. Last time was so close because Zak was so early and because Hermione was so sick. She's going to pull through this just fine."
"Yeah, she's too smart to kick the bucket," said Fred.
"But then again, we thought she was too smart to marry him," said George.
Ron gave a strangled laugh and pulled away from his mother, wiping his eyes roughly. He gazed around the circle and his gaze rested on Draco.
"Malfoy," he said. Immediately the room fell silent as even those who didn't know of the bad blood between Ron and Draco could tell that these two were not old friends.
"Ron," said Draco, nodding his head at his ex-enemy. "I hear you've got a job at the Ministry. Head of Tactics for the Aurors, very impressive."
Ron studied Draco for a moment, recognizing Draco's compliment for what it was, an apology and now he had to decide what to do with it.
"Thanks," said Ron and Draco nodded at him again, recognizing that the apoplogy was accepted. It was a testimony to how stressed out and tired Ron was that he reached for a piece of candy in the dish on the table right in front of George. He had put it in his mouth before anyone had a chance to stop him.
"Ron," groaned Ginny. "Fred, George, what does it do?"
"You'll see," said Fred, grinning evilly, his twin wearing the exact same expression.
"What?" asked Ron, noticing everyone staring at him. He swallowed the confection. "What? What is going on?" he asked again, but what came out of his mouth was "Was? Auf was geht?"
They stared at him, then rounded on Fred and George.
"Fred, George, what did you do to your brother?" Mrs. Weasley demanded in a voice that demanded strict obedience.
"Translator Toffees," said Fred.
"Our newest product," said George.
"They're really quite innovative."
"They can be used for pranks and at the office."
"Say you have a client in France, but you don't speak French, simply eat a toffee, the blue one because that's the French one, and you can converse with them."
"The only set back is you start thinking in the other language as well, so you don't understand what the people who speak your language are saying."
"Fred, George, change him back. He's panicking," said Mrs. Weasley. "His wife is in labor and you pull this on him?"
"He was the one that took it," said Fred.
"You can change him back, can't you?" asked Ginny as she watched Ron staring madly around the room shouting "Konnen Sie mich horen?" Can you hear me?
"Course," said Fred.
"We just have to know what color he took," said George.
"So we know what language he's speaking," said Fred.
"So we can change him back."
"Because if we give him the wrong one, well-,"
"We don't know what would happen," George finished.
"Does anyone know what color he took?" asked Fred.
Draco hadn't noticed; neither had anyone else.
"It sounds like Russian, maybe?" asked Penny.
"Then it'd be yellow," said George, reaching for a yellow toffee.
"It's German," said Draco.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"German?" asked Charlie. "You sure?"
Draco turned to Ron. "Konnen Sie mich verstehen?" he asked. Can you understand me?
"Ja!" exclaimed Ron. Yes. "Was ist geschehen?" What happened?
"Sie sprechen Deutsch," said Draco. You are speaking German. He turned to the group. "It's German," he confirmed. George gave his brother a green toffee.
"You speak German?" asked Bill.
"I speak English too," said Draco. There were a few confused looks.
"Draco's first language is French," Ginny explained.
"Really?" asked Fleur, and immediately jumped into a tirade of French. Draco smirked and responded just as quickly.
"What'd they say?" asked Faye.
"Talking about where they grew up," said Ginny, following their conversation. "Speak any other languages Draco?"
"I'm also fluent in Spanish and Italian, I can get by in Russian and I know a bit of Dutch," said Draco.
"So many?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"I had a tutor," said Draco.
"He had eight tutors," said Blaise. He leaned in conspiratorially and said in a mock whisper, "It's because he's a little slow."
"Thank you for that Blaise," said Draco, glaring at his friend who ducked behind Pansy.
"What would you need with tutors though?" asked Charlie. "You went to Hogwarts, didn't you?"
"Well, Narcissa didn't want to deal with me, so she hired a bunch of tutors to keep me occupied," said Draco shrugging.
"That's horrible," said Penny.
Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. "It is?" he asked. "What did all of you do before school?"
"Mum taught us to read and write and basic sums," said Ginny. "And we had a few chores to do and we just goofed off."
"Basically," agreed Bill.
"Same here," said Fleur.
"I cleaned," said Harry brightly from his chair. Everyone laughed, except Draco who frowned. "I lived with my Muggle relatives," Harry explained. "And they hated me because I was a wizard so they had me clean stuff a lot to try to keep the magic from manifesting in me."
Draco stared at him. "Seriously?" he asked. "I always pictured you being taken care of by Dumbledore or McGonagall or someone."
"Nope," said Harry, "just me and my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin Dudley who used to enjoy beating me up. But that stopped when I found out I was a wizard when I got the Hogwarts letter."
"You didn't know you were a wizard?" asked Draco.
"Nope," said Harry. "You could say it was a shock."
"You could," said Blaise. "I'd find it down right terrifying."
"I remember the first time I saw you," said Mrs. Weasley. "You didn't know how to get on Platform 9 and three-quarters."
"I remember that," said Harry. "I was so afraid I would miss the train. And that's where I met Ron."
"And you bought half of the sweet cart," said Ron, who was speaking English once again.
"Good times," said Harry, staring off into space, obviously recollecting their Hogwarts days.
"Bloody sentimental Gryffindor," Draco muttered, but so Harry could hear.
"Hey, we're all Gryffindors here," said Bill. "Well, most of us, so you'd better watch yourself."
"Like you could take a Slytherin?" Draco challenged good-naturedly.
"Bunch of back-stabbing snakes the lot of you," said Bill, also in light tones.
"Well, that's true," Draco conceded.
"Hey, I was nearly put in Slytherin," Harry reminded Bill.
"You were nearly put in Slytherin?" Draco asked, taken off-guard.
"Yeah, the Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I asked it not to," said Harry.
Draco stared at him. "You asked not to? What the bloody hell was wrong with you?"
"Well, Ron sort of made a generalization that all the wizards in Slytherin turned out bad," Harry said shrugging.
"Not all of us," said Draco indignantly.
"Most of us though," said Blaise. "I mean look at who was in our year. Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint, and Voldemort was in Slytherin. So was your father."
Draco flinched at the reference to his father and then noticed that the entire Weasley family had glanced at him when Lucius was mentioned and had noticed his reaction.
"Next topic please," he said.
"That article was true, wasn't it?" asked Mrs. Weasley softly. "The one that came out after the war. 'Shocking Revelations of the Malfoy Heir and his Childhood', wasn't it?"
Draco froze; he remembered that article that had appeared in the special edition Daily Prophet that was based solely on him. Most people had disregarded the section that spoke of an abusive father as merely sensational news. The thing was, most of it was true if understated, but of course he had written the newspaper an angry letter and the Daily Prophet had written a retraction. There were some things that Draco did not want publicized, some things were meant to be secret.
"I didn't read it," said Draco coldly, his mask firmly in place with a sneer beginning to affix itself on his lips. "So I wouldn't know." He knew he looked and sounded exactly like Lucius right then, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't want them to know; he didn't want to think about it. When he thought about it, it just became too real, and now his mind was betraying him, dragging up memory after memory of his father and pain. He shook his head roughly to clear it.
"It said that Lucius mistreated you," Mrs. Weasley continued. "He did, didn't he?"
Draco found he couldn't answer; the scornful words he wanted to say to dismiss the notion stuck in his throat and the smirk that slid so easily on his face was gone, leaving his jaw clenched. His grey eyes were no longer ice, but pools of water holding the dark recollections of tormented childhood in which he found himself slowly drowning. He didn't hear Pansy calling his name, worry making her voice tight. He didn't see her reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder until he felt the touch. In his mind it was Lucius, clamping a hand on his shoulder and roughly spinning him around in order to backhand him across the face.
He recoiled, shrinking back to the corner of the couch and throwing up a hand to block the blow, but there was no Lucius, only Pansy with her worried blue eyes, Pansy and a room of Gryffindors who were now staring at him in shock and horror.
"Merlin," breathed Mrs. Weasley.
Draco did the worst thing possible, the one thing that would forever undermine any attempts he would ever make to deny the allegations. He snarled and in one fluid, graceful motion was off of the couch and heading for the door, ignoring Blaise's shout of "Drake!" He was running.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(grins sheepishly)
I'm sorry, I suppose that's a rather mean place to end it, but while I was writing it, I realized it was going long and I decided that this was a good place to stop. If it bugs you, review and I'll update sooner, lol. Yay for bribery.
Oh, and I don't speak German, I got all of the translations on line so I don't know how accurate they are