Another chapter that is a 'Patented Plot Speeder-Upper: Guaranteed to Speed-up Plot or Your Money Back' thing. Hope you enjoy and keep on reviewing!
I live off reviews! That along with chocolate, Nutella and bubble tea.
In case you haven't figure, there will be bashing of some characters (not out-right, mindless bashing though) and other characters will be a bit different. Let's just say I bring out their darker sides that J.K. Rowling doesn't fully explore.
Disclaimer: Still don't own. Santa hasn't given me my wish. *sniff* *sniff* And he doesn't even have the decency to mail me back! Angst, angst and more angst.
"No, no, you don't get it! Fat women are sexy because they are fat! They had this…this…abundance of…flesh!" Blaise's hands moved in wild circles, attempting to bring his point home to the blonde. Draco merely groaned at that imagery.
"Why would they be sexy when their asses are hanging out of their pants? Like that one…right there!" Draco pointed at a large woman who strode by them, seemingly unaware of his wild pointing and sneer.
"Now she's got me fucking hard, man." Blaise licked his lips. Draco made a noise of disgust and murmured, "If we weren't in public, I'd kill you for being such a disgusting…" He searched for the right word. "…testa di cazzo," he finally spat out.
Blaise merely grinned and drawled, "I'd much rather screw her than that skeleton of yours."
"Daphne isn't mine…hell I don't want her. She's a good fuck is all. You'd think so too, bones or not." Draco scoffed. There were other girls out there who all wanted him, yes. However, Daphne's family held the monopoly on this city's prostitution rings. Lucius wanted that control and the only way was through marriage. Threats hadn't worked on a family backed by the Black household, one of the largest names in the Slytherin clan, besides the Malfoy. So pretty much, Draco was engaged to Daphne before he was even born. Talk about fate.
But, what he really hated was that everytime he envisioned Daphne's overly long face and drooping, 'beaten dog' eyes, he thought of Harry's face. He couldn't fathom why as he had just met the boy. Something about seeing him in real life, the defiance in his eyes or maybe the smooth lines of his face, tanned from working no doubt. Draco could never tan. The last time he'd set foot on a beach, he had come back looking redder than a lobster and peeling badly to boot. He was smaller than Draco. Not in the muscle sense but height-wise. His eyes…Draco wondered if it was his natural eye color. The data sheet said so, but it lied. It had listed Sirius Black as his father and Renee Longbottom as his mother. He'd have to look into that.
"Helloooo…anyone in there?" Draco grabbed Blaise's wrist before the tall boy could rap Draco's head. He felt a small satisfaction as something cracked and his friend wheezed in pain. Sometimes, he really hated Blaise.
"Fuck you! What the hell?" Blaise grasped onto his wrist, his mouth curled up in a snarl.
"Don't even try to hit me next time or I'll break it."
"As opposed to what?" Blaise shot back venomously. Draco sighed. Honestly, he hadn't broken it, just sprained it. People these days, couldn't tell the difference between a sprain and a break and couldn't be bothered to thank you when you explained it.
"So, heard that you all have a new prisoner?" The abrupt change of topic threw Draco slightly. News travels fast.
"Yeah…someone important. Father-"
"Ooh, Sirius Black? Kingsley Shacklebolt? No wait! Mc-" Draco growled in annoyance at Blaise's loud interruption. If there was one thing he hated…
"None of them, you idiot! Father is planning something really big with the Don, he won't even tell Walpurga." Blaise snickered softly at the name. Draco couldn't help but give a small smile too. The Black's had a penchant for odd names. Sirius was probably the most normal of them all. And he was severed from the family after that night so he didn't count.
"Soo, no gossip then?"
"No gossip. And I have to go see Daphne now, for the 'bonding session' bullshit." Draco scowled angrily.
"Have fun with horseface!"
Have fun with Harry's face.
"Sirius…you've let me down. And just yesterday I told you that I trusted you." Dumbledore let out a disappointed click of his tongue. Sirius' head was hung so low that he might have merged into the ground if given one more inch. He said nothing, only a barely controlled tightening of the hands was all.
Dumbledore moved on.
"And Alastor. I would have expected much better of you. You say you questioned your parameter guards and none of them…?"
"No sir." Moody whispered, his voice dripping with shame and barely contained anger at the Malfoys. Scanning the dart they found was almost unnecessary. The color of the dart and the make screamed Slytherin as did the residual powder they found on it. Sedatives, and the fast acting kind too.
"Question them again. Sirius, close off borders and don't let anyone in or out. This information can not be leaked out. Don't fail me on this one too, Sirius." Sirius winced softly at that dig. Moody gave him a slightly sympathetic look born out of mutual commiseration.
"Am I clear now?"
"Yes sir!" Both men barked together.
"Very good, you are dismissed." Both men walked out of the office as fast as possible. Dumbledore sighed again, something he was doing more and more often now. He knew both men cared deeply for the boy. Nothing he said to them could make them feel guiltier and worse than what they had already inflicted on themselves. Lupin cared for the boy and so McGonagall in her own, detached sort of way. He couldn't blame them. The boy had a natural charm and charisma, just like his father. Yacov had been a good man so it was sad when both Yacov and Lilya were found dead in their home from gunshot wounds and little Harry went missing. He was a good spy, he had been better than Sirius. Sirius had asked to take Jame's place and avenge him as soon as he heard of the death. At that time, he was still in M16 and being groomed for taking the lead of the Black family, over his brother Regulus. That had been nasty, but not as nasty as what Sirius could do if he learned…
Dumbledore smiled bitterly.
His fingers found the personal speaker on his phone and pressing the button labeled 'cat', he spoke into it, "Minerva, come up here for a second, please."
Minerva stood nervously before Dumbledore. There was something deceptively calm about him in the way his eyes twinkled and his hands steeped. He hadn't offered her a lemon drop either.
"Did Lucius or Riddle send you anything?"
"No." She answered shortly.
"Well, then, we shall make the first contact, hm?" Dumbledore's eyes probed her's, something much like a smile peeling at the corners of his mouth. She felt vaguely sick. She had been fond of the Potemkins; she had liked Yacov. Not Lilya though; she was always a bit too naïve and optimistic for her taste, like a kid. Yacov must have liked that about her.
"I will contact Riddle first."
"No, contact Lucius first. The dart was Malfoy make, expressly. Sirius and Kingsley have confirmed it as so. Also, you know how to do this call?" Minerva bristled to herself at this jab. No doubt, he had been doing it to everyone.
"Yes I do."
"Very well…you are dismissed."
"Yes sir."
She left quickly. She could feel Dumbledore's eyes on her though, watching, always watching.
Lucius picked up the phone and rang the number. He waited patiently for the voice to come on.
"This is Alliance Central? May I help you?" Clear, chirpy voice. Young, 27 at the most. The voice had the slightest of accents on it, Czech. The Gryffindors always seemed to favor Eastern Europeans for some reason…
"Yes, and this is Lucius Malfoy. May I speak to you head please?"
"I beg your pardon?" Lucius grunted, annoyed. New secretaries could never understand shit. He couldn't understand what had happened to the old secretary.
"Lucius Malfoy." He strained.
"Ah…well…" There was the sound of flipping and a long pause where flipping was all that he heard.
"Tell McGonagall that Don Lucius is on the phone." He ground out, irritated.
"A-a-ah, y-yes sir." Atta girl, a direct order, spoken like you mean it always worked on people. If only it would work on that goddamn Potter boy.
"Lucius, I was just about to contact you." Tightly controlled, thin voice of an older woman who meant business.
"Minerva, well I am here to discuss with you. Talk away."
"Is this a hostage situation?"
"Ah, good question. Always to the point. No and I will tell you why. Potter is ours because as of fifteen minutes again, the peace treaty was discarded by Don Riddle. Right now, Potter is not a hostage as he is a prisoner. A bargaining chip if you will. Do what we don't' want you to do and Potter will be hurt." He let aslow smile creep across his face.
"What if we don't concede to whatever asinine demands you have?" That voice was harsh and cold. That was not McGonagall's voice. It was Dumbledore's. Well goody gum drops he had both heads on the phone.
"Then Harry will pay for your pride." Dramatically worded if he did say so himself.
"What would you take for his release?" Dumbledore asks after a long pause. Is that defeat I hear in his voice? That means victory for me!
"Nothing, as I have told Minerva, this is not a hostage situation. You don't have a treaty now either since Don Riddle rescinded it."
"This is war, Malfoy." McGonagall was back again; spewing out the dramatics like him. War huh? Well, he never said that to them but if she wants to do it…who was to deny her?
"Well, what we already have going is pretty much war. If you want to take that ceremonious step, then by all means, I won't stop you. Harry will just be a prisoner of war, no?" Lucius definitely wanted to watch their expressions as they tried to process all this. No doubt, pretty soon he would be meeting up with Sirius and Kingsley and maybe even Flitwick. He couldn't wait for them to meet his men. They had been getting so much better since last they truly met face to face. Draco was training very well too.
"It was nice having this conversation. I hope to see you all soon!" He spoke to the silence on the other side of the line. He was, one could say, giddy. He liked blood.
Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at each other in silence for a bit. Both were too shocked to form words. Sure, Dumbledore had been expecting something but he hadn't thought Lucius had war on his mind.
"Well, Lucius got what he wanted and we'll just have to beat him back again."
He looked at Minerva who gave a weak, hollow smile in return. Dumbledore nodded at that.
"Get Sirius. It looks like he'll get his revenge after all. Lupin, Moody, Shacklebolt, Tonks and Arthur here too. We need to get moving as fast as possible."
Minerva looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Sir…Aberforth?"
"Never mind that fool. He'll get it soon. And call Ollivander's too. We need more weapons."
Minerva felt something press against her chest. It was stress and it was something much like 'doom and gloom'. She had a bad feeling about this war. It had been a long time since they last openly engaged Slytherin and who knows how strong Slytherin had been getting. Though the body count was about equal on both sides in more of an eye-for-an-eye motive that had gone slaughterhouse…it was a testament to Slytherin that they were confident enough to call off a peace treaty which Minerva was sure was them buckling under the pressure of a near war. She was rarely wrong but when she was wrong, apparently, she was very wrong.
"Do we still have the yakuza's support?"
Draco looked at his merrily ringing cell phone, vibrating on the counter-top. Giving a dark look at the man gagged and bound at his feet, he used a latex-gloved hand to flip the phone open and bring it to his ear.
"What do you want?"
"Tsk. Tsk. Is that anyway to talk to your father?" Lucius' voice was giddy and excited, though, not annoyed or angry as it should be. Draco's eyes furrowed. This wasn't good.
"I'm currently ready to interrogate the man you asked me to so I'd appreciate it if you could just tell me what the fuck?"
"Language, Draco? What would your mother say?" Digging in that sore place again.
"How the fuck would I know? What happened." It wasn't a question as much as it was a statement, a demand. He knew he would probably get punished for taking on such a blatantly antagonistic tone towards someone who was his boss but he couldn't car less. His prisoner whined softly at his feet, probably thinking the call was on how to better torture retarded Irish people. Draco scowled silently and gave the man a harsh kick in the side to silence him.
"Pack your guns son because we are at war."
"What?" Draco was sure he was hearing things. At war with who? Lucius Malfoy did not declare war…he let other people do it for him.
"McGonagall declared war on us for taking her precious Harry." Green eyes flashed in front of Draco. "Expect to be called on mission pretty soon. As soon as you get what you need from that man."
Of course, Lucius hadn't declared war. He'd conned McGonagall into doing so.
Turning, he pointed the gun at the whimpering figure and roughly pulled the gag from his mouth.
"So talk." Draco raised an eyebrow and stared coolly into wide blue eyes.
"You kidnapped Harry?! How could you do…declare war!?" Draco sighed. Give these Irish fuckers an inch, they'll take a continent.
"Well, it doesn't matter to you. Just answer my questions."
"No! I don't know what the fuck my da does! Do you think he'd tell me? Me siblings don't tell me nothing either." Double negatives.
"You're the youngest, aren't you?" Draco knew he has a sister but since he was in a mood, he just going to jab at him. He's really tall, though. Taller than Draco, which is no small feat given that Draco himself was 1.905 meters exactly.
"No, I have a younger sister." Sure enough, there is a resentful, slightly sulky tone to his voice. That boy was so fucking transparent that Draco wanted to laugh.
"You sure you don't know anything?" Draco smoothly cocked his gun. He knew his father hadn't wanted the boy killed, but the Weasley didn't have to know that detail.
"No!" Draco sighed. Time to bring out the big guns. He'd have to thank Dolohov for this information later on.
"You sure Hermione would appreciate being dragged up in the middle of the night? She seems a nice girl, if there isn't a mean bone in her body, unlike you."
Ron paled and his freckles stood out all the more. Pathetic. He was going to crack, Draco knew. His fists had tightened and he was fighting with betraying someone in his family or having his girlfriend…subject to whatever Draco could think of. His lips tightened, holding something back no doubt. Draco had to speed this up. "Ins fact, I do believe I know where she lives. She's down at that-"
"No! Wait…" Bingo. "My da said something about meetin me half-sister's cousin at Ottery St. Catch-pole Devon." The boy had a half sister?
"Really now? Who is your half-sister's cousin?" He really hated the Weasley's thick Irish accent; he could barely understand it.
"Gabrielle Delacour. My half sister is Fleur Delacour." French? He would have never guessed that one.
"Is that all?" Draco asked. It was useful information, if he did know what to do with it. This rendered the information useless then, as he knew.
Weasley apparently didn't trust himself to speak as he nodded and gulped, his protruding Adam 's apple bobbing up and down. Draco's finger itched but he put the gun down and abruptly left the room, making sure to slam it shut as he left.
He needed to talk to his father about the war bullshit. This was something that wasn't gong to end well.
A/N: Draco is 6ft. 3 in. Ron is 6 ft. 41/3 in.
Draco is 19 and Harry is 19. Ron is also 19 and you can pretty much guess everyone else's age. The Italian curse work Draco yelled at Blaise in the beginning is 'dickhead'. It is not a nice word, children. The Malfoy family is Italian in my story though their name is kind of French sounding isn't it? Whoops.
Not much Harry in it and I apologize but the next chapter will be all about Harry. It will further advance Malfoy's relationship with Harry now that he's thinking about Harry.
w00t! First story going over 3 chapters. Yes!