A/N: Thanks for the wait everyone. This story is far more successful than I thought it would be and I'm feeling great about it! thanks for all the reviews and do not worry, I can be slow, but I'm extremely stubborn and doubt I will give up on such a story!

And I'm also looking for a beta reader, so if you're interested, leave me a message. It's only for this story (not gonna ask a person to read the humongous amount of other crap I wrote) and it's not much work since I update every millenium or so (working on improving that particular point, I promise.)

Chapter 3: Handling it... Or not.

"Right, so let's start. Miss Black, how old are you?" asked Lorelai in a professional tone.

Narcissa sighed, hoping she wouldn't slip up on any question. "I'm thirty-three."

"And where are you from?"

"Mom, don't ask stuff we already know! Be a bit professional!" whined Rory who was changing cds.

"Ok ok, Sherlock. Favourite colour?"

Narcissa had to ponder that for a moment. Of course, as a Malfoy and member of the Slytherin house, Lucius had a soft spot for green and silver and the whole manor had always been very austere and dark. She shook her head, that wasn't her, she needed to find herself again. "I love pink and blue, and red," she finally exclaimed.

"Foods?"

"Luke's coffee," she answered without hesitation. The two Gilmores laughed and Lorelai did what she thought was a discreet victory dance.

"Hobbies?"

That was another hard one. Lucius wasn't one to like hobbies. Hobbies were for people who had time to waste. And people who actually had time to waste were losers without enough ambition. But still, there was one thing that she loved to do and that Lucius had never been able to take away as it always awed the other ladies: gardening.

"Gardening? You have to be joking Cissa!" whimpered Lorelai who had no skills at all with the green thinguies.

"No, I love it," Narcissa replied while sipping her coffee. Her eyes fixed into emptiness. "I had a wonderful rose garden back at the manor. And a winter garden full of exotic plants. It was my haven, my husband would never come there…" she trailed off, hoping for the two Gilmores not to pick up on anything she had just said. But wrong luck, of course.

"Manor? You lived in a manor? I didn't know you were married either," said Rory furrowing her brow.

"I'm divorced actually. Have been for the past week or so."

Narcissa was growing uneasy. She didn't want to talk about Lucius and his way of life; she didn't want to reminisce about her life at the manor and the horrible things that happened there. Lorelai eyed her carefully and decided to change the topic. Her new friend was looking down and uncomfortable.

"So, if I remember, you said once you have a son. Tell us about him," she happily interrupted, hoping Narcissa would like that topic better. Her guest chuckled.

"Well, his name is Draco and he's a little brat really, but I love him. He's turning 15 soon. He loves reading and playing the piano and drawing; he's kind of a loner and he's rather feisty. Doesn't like people. I left him in Europe, he's in a boarding school in Scotland."

"But he'll come over for the summer, won't he?" Lorelai asked eagerly.

"Mom, you are NOT hitting on a fifteen year old," cut Rory severely.

"I never hit on fifteen year olds! I'm just curious!" the older woman complained. "Besides, he better get used to Miss Patty, she hits on anything male."

"She doesn't hit on Luke," Narcissa offered.

"Wrong answer!" shouted Lorelai while waving her ice cream spoon in the air. "She does. She's just subtle enough about it so that most people don't notice and he doesn't bite her head off!"

"Mom, where did you get that ice cream! I thought you were stuffed!"

"Your point being?" inquired Lorelai while licking said spoon.

"Point being you said you were stuffed! Hence unable to further the consumption of anything belonging to the food category."

"Is that a critic towards my digestive system?" Lorelai threatened.

"What?"

"You don't think my system can process food so that I'm not stuffed anymore five minutes after having said I'm full? You of all people should worship the Gilmore metabolism. You should worship it as it passes on the red carpet with Johnny Depp as an escort. Oh, we should buy red carpet for the bathroom!" she squealed.

"And why would we do that?" Rory asked, fearing the answer.

"Well, so the Gilmore digestive system feels honoured, obviously." Lorelai rolled her eyes.

"Right, you do that. Now let's go back on track shall we?" She turned back to Narcissa. "Why did you leave England?"

Narcissa's smile fell quickly as she recalled the causes of her departure but she smiled again as she remembered all of it had been left behind. "Well Rory, I left because I needed a new start, away from my ex-husband, away from everything. I wanted something as far as possible from what I had before." She grinned, thinking about Lucius rotting away in Azkaban.

Lorelai conscientiously licked her spoon and looked around. "Did you live with my parents up till now?"

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Elsa blinked as the sun hit her right through the window and crouched on the wooden floor, where the pile of books was sitting dauntingly. She once more cursed under her breath at Joan who had whined she couldn't prepare the new window display because she was scared of falling if she had to walk around in her socks.

"I'll buy that tart grip socks for Christmas," she muttered. She then proceeded to grab a humongous book entitled "Electricity", slipped and landed on her butt.

"Oh my God, are you ok?"

A tall blonde woman had run towards her and was now helping her up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just that stupid book and those stupid socks, and who the hell would buy such a heavy book!" she said loud enough for her boss to hear.

Narcissa laughed and the saleswoman suddenly remembered the professional aspect of things. "I'm sorry, welcome to Flourish&Blotts, how may I help you?"

"I'm looking for books on Muggles. I live in a muggle town and I need to live quite like them but-"

"The Guide to Muggleness," Elsa interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"That's the best book you can get. All you need: tips from fashion to furniture passing through electrical equipment, tools, computers, bus systems, cultural references, repairing manuals, cinematographic stuff, and so on. Everything is mentioned, everything is explained, you can't make anymore mistakes with this. You can also leave it out in the open as to Muggles, it looks like a mere cooking book. This will definitely be your best investment and…"she suddenly trailed off, looked at her customer more closely. "Merlin almighty, you're Narcissa Malfoy!" she finally exclaimed.

Narcissa opened wide horrified eyes, grabbed "The Guide to Muggleness" as well as the saleswoman and ran to a corner.

"How do you know?" she whispered angrily.

"Aren't you aware? You're on the front page of all the newspapers! Good job getting rid of your husband! Such class! Sad everything that happened though. No family should have to go through all this. Hey, are you okay?"

Narcissa had sunk to the floor, her gaze empty. It was already there. It was in every single newspaper of the magical community. How she, Narcissa Malfoy had sued her husband for abuse and then helped the Wizengamot gather other accusations against him. They always had needed something to get a hold of him and she had provided that. Now everybody was reading the reports about life at Malfoy manor. She could only imagine the hyperbolic drama editors had printed.

She should have stayed in Stars Hollow. Or come here sooner. She was safe in Stars Hollow, no one there to recognize her. And she should have taken Draco out of school. How was he going to handle this? He didn't really have any friends apart from Pansy and she surely would be irate that he hadn't told her anything.

She felt the saleswoman shake her softly and looked at her in fear. "I should go. Thanks for the book."

They walked to the cash register and Narcissa paid for her book. She hesitated in front of the door. The crowded avenue now seemed oppressive. Who knows who would recognize her?

"I can drive you to the end of the avenue in the delivery van if you want. That way you won't have to walk out there."

Narcissa smiled to the saleswoman and nodded. "Let's go then. I'm Elsa by the way," added the saleswoman.

"Nice to meet you Elsa. I'm Narcissa."

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While his mother was carefully tucked away in a Flourish&Blotts delivery van, Draco was taking the paper right in the face. He had been too absorbed with his work to realise that a week had gone by and he wasn't actually sure it had. The editors probably decided to publish the story anyway.

Breakfast had been hectic. Even if only 5 percent of the kids received the newspaper, and maybe 2 percent read it, the story had spread like wild fire in a dense and dry forest. By the time he had finished his sixth coffee bowl, very needed that morning, his housemates were hassling him, Pansy was fulminating, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were discussing and Hufflepuff was slowly, but surely, working out the event.

Draco looked up at the teachers' table and saw that McGonnagal was already gone. He sighed in relief. It meant she was in her classroom already and he could go hide there till the bell rang. He grabbed his book bag, took a deep breath and stood up. He knew everybody in the dining hall was watching him but he decided to pretend he couldn't see them. He grabbed a roll and strolled out confidently while cursing journalists under his breath.

McGonnagal's classroom was empty when he stepped in. He took his usual seat in the back corner and took out his notes. Transfiguration was his weakness; he had a hard time grasping it sometimes but it never showed through his grades and he was proud of his efforts. He started perusing his notes for the hundredth time, making sure everything was clear. The teenager didn't hear the classroom door slam or the very angry steps coming in his direction.

"Is that how you treat your friends Draco? You lie to them for more than 10 years? Is that a reflection of how little respect you actually have for me?" Pansy screeched.

"I'm reading, Pansy."

She grabbed his notes and threw them across the wall. "Do I look like I care?"

Draco sighed. "What did you want me to tell you? And what would it have changed?"

"I don't know. And I will never know since you didn't tell me!"

"Look, I'm sorry okay? I didn't know how to tell you something like that. I know you're mad and you possibly have every right to be but I didn't want to worry you.

"God, you're so selfish!" she finally yelled.

That made him jump up. "I'm selfish? I'm selfish? What do you even mean by that? You don't make sense!"

A dry voice cut the argument short. "Mr Malfoy and Miss Parkinson, if you want to scream, it's out of my classroom please."

Both teenagers snapped out of the angry bubble and looked at the stiff transfiguration teacher who had gone back to writing instructions on the black board.

Pansy pulled her chin up. "I'm sorry professor. I don't have anything else to say to him anyway." She grabbed the bag she had let fall to the floor and stalked across the room to sit as far from him as possible.

Draco sighed and slowly got up to get the notes that Pansy had smashed against the wall. He looked at her but she blatantly ignored him and pretended to be interested in her transfiguration book. He sighed and sat back down, trying to pull his thoughts together.

As he was contemplating that maybe he should have taken off with his mother, Blaise Zabini dumped his bag next to him.

"Find another seat Zabini," Draco drawled. He knew Blaise wanted to sit there to get more stories out of him.

Blaise pretended not to hear. "So, Rita Skeeter got ya, eh? That woman and exaggeration: an eternal marriage. Where did she dig up all that rubbish?" the black-haired boy commented mirthfully.

Draco snapped his quill in two and went back to his reading.

Blaise, obviously, didn't remember that his blonde friend snapping quills was never a sign of clemency and kept going. "I mean, why does she have to make everything a drama story? Her alternate reality is a soap opera. Lucius always spoiled you guys anyway. So why did your mum get a divorce? He was at it with his secretary? I wouldn't mind doing her so I couldn't really blame him.

The author here comments on the fact that it's needless to say that Blaise Zabini didn't see the punch coming. He however felt the pain explode in his forehead and definitely heard McGonnagal's screech. "Out of here Mr Malfoy! You may go directly to the headmaster's office!"

Draco stormed down the halls on his way to Dumbledore's office. He would rather go anywhere else, but when a teacher told you to go there, you didn't have any other choice, your feet would just not take another way. Even if another way would have avoided him an encounter with the Golden Trio.

"Well well well, read the paper today Malfoy, I suppose" Harry laughed.

The Slytherin stopped dead in his tracks and wished once again that he was dealing with the Stars Hollow loonies and not with the Gryffindor nutjobs.

"Yes Potter, I have. Contrary to you, I have literacy skills, I don't need Granger to read things out and explain them to me."

Harry turned crimson and Hermione put her hand on his arm to calm him down.

"Honestly Granger, you need to buy him a leash, you never know when he might pounce. Though I guess the colour could be an indication."

"I wouldn't be such a smart-aleck if I were you Malfoy. Especially now that your daddy is in Azkaban," Ron cut in and advanced on the blonde boy. "I don't believe any of the bullshit printed in the paper. Your mother probably bribed the paper to write something dramatic but which didn't outright accuse daddy Malfoy of being a war criminal."

Draco looked past the annoying redhead and saw the windows shake slightly. He needed to stay in control. "You believe what you want Weasley, your opinion has about as much weight as your brain. Beware, the wind is strong today."

Ron lunged himself at Draco but the Slytherin seeker was way faster and punched him win the stomach while ducking. Ron found himself without breath, on the floor, and a concerned Hermione hovering above him. Harry on the other hand, was fighting with Malfoy, both boys beaten to pulps and yet not stopping...

Till they heard a thundering voice at the end of the hall. Dumbledore was standing there, and needless to say, was inevitably extremely angry. He wasted no time handing out detentions and sending the trio to the hospital wing. He then turned to Draco and motioned him to follow him.

The teenage boy stepped behind him in the office and made him sit and conjured some water and a towel so the boy could wash his face.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and eyed Draco pensively. He hadn't needed to read the paper as he had been present to the trial and knew perfectly what Rita Skeeter had reported and what came from her peculiar Wonderland.

"Mr Malfoy, I understand this is a difficult day for you, but so far, you've been in a fight with your best friend, you've punched Mr Zabini and you've beaten up Mr Weasley and Mr Potter."

He saw Draco about to protest and held up his hand. "I do not want to know if you have been provoked or not. I can easily imagine it being the case. However, such behaviour will not be accepted again. Step out of line again, Mr Malfoy, and there will be dire consequences. I hope you realise that by acting with such outward violence, you're putting yourself on a level about as low as your father. You may go now."

The old headmaster opened a file and proceeded to ignore the teenager. It didn't pass his notice that everything was trembling around the room and that Draco's eyes were more raging than they ever had been.

He knew he had hit low when comparing the kid to his father, but he felt his words needed to have an impact on him or things would get out of hand rather quickly.

The Slytherin finally stood up and slammed the door behind him. And let every single window fly into shards as he passed them.

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There you go kiddies! I was inspired to write twice as much but I wanted to post this.