A/N: Wow. First of all, the reviews I've been getting have made me so happy. It means so much to me when you guys review, and it also made me feel so bad that I couldn't get another chapter out before I left. I had tried and was planning on posting one when I got to Sydney, but internet connection in the hotel I was staying in cost a fortune, so I'm posting it now. I would really like it if you could check out the links I have in my profile, as well. Support for my own fiction makes my heart soar, as stupidly cheesy as that sounds.
"Ron?" Harry approached the slumped over figure of his best friend cautiously. The bar stunk of firewhiskey, and the haze of alcohol seemed particularly strong around Ron Weasley. "Mate, what's wrong?"
"S'not mine," Ron mumbled, face down on the bar.
"What?" Harry propped his friend up and looked at him. Ron's eyes were bloodshot and his face pale. His hair was a mess and he looked like rubbish.
"Rose. She isn't mine," Ron grunted and Harry's eyes widened. He dropped into the stool beside his friend and took the firewhiskey away.
"Tell me what happened," he prompted and Ron groaned.
"I went to see 'Mione. 'Bout the article, y'know?" Ron spoke slowly. "Then I got home and Mari is just standing there. So I ask what's wrong, right? 'N' then she says Rosie isn't mine 'n' she had an affair. Can't believe it."
"Mate..." Harry didn't know what to say. Ron looked so despairing. His eyes were tearing up with his explanation. Instead of vouching for words, Harry wrapped a comforting arm around Ron's shoulder. "C'mon, mate. Let's get you cleaned up."
Harry threw some money on the counter of the bar and hoisted Ron to his feet. They stumbled from the pub and into the street where Harry fumbled for his wand and apparated them back to Grimmauld Place.
"Harry?" Ginny's voice came from the front door of their home and Harry grunted in reply, hauling Ron up the stairs. Ginny hurried out of the way as her brother was pulled into the house. "What happened?"
Harry dumped Ron on a sofa in the front lounge room and wiped his brow. "Marietta had an affair. Rose isn't Ron's daughter," he said breathlessly. Ginny dropped the cup of tea she was holding with a squeak. "The engagement is off."
"That bloody bitch," Ginny muttered, flicking the mess she had made away with her wand. She moved over to Ron and smoothed the hair from his forehead. "He just can't seem to do anything right, can he?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, sitting in a cushy red armchair.
"He royally fucked up his chances with Hermione, didn't he? And then he left her for Marietta, who isn't exactly the nicest person," Ginny explained. "I can't believe her."
"We should clean him up and put him to bed. We can deal with Marietta in the morning," Harry suggested and Ginny nodded. Using his wand, Harry levitated Ron up the stairs of the house and into one of the guest bedrooms. No longer was Grimmauld Place a dank, dirty house to live in. Ginny and Harry had totally redecorated, with the aid of Kreacher to remove any stubborn paintings. The room they were placing Ron in was light blue with a comfortable double bed in one corner. Harry let the unconscious figure of Ron land on the bed with a soft thump.
"I'll go and get a washcloth and some of your pyjamas," Ginny offered and hurried from the room. Harry sighed and peeled off the layers of Ron's clothing until his best friend was left only in a white singlet and red boxers with animated snitches. Ginny returned and threw a pair of pyjama pants at Harry who, with some difficulty, managed to get them on Ron. Ginny was sitting at the top of the bed, wiping Ron's face gently with a cloth.
When he was cleaned up they tossed a sheet over him and let him sleep. They would question him in the morning. Ginny sighed when they reached their bedroom, climbing beneath the covers.
"What happened to him, Harry?" she asked forlornly and Harry shrugged.
"He was always like this, I guess. He just hasn't changed. He takes rejection badly, and he takes being lied to even worse. He'll get better," Harry reassured his wife who had curled into him. "It might just take some time."
Perfect Family a Facade
Since our Golden Trio came out victorious in the war, it seems they have been flaunting their popularity and prowess, writes Lavender Brown, but it has been revealed that some of the happy lives we've been seen have been a sham. It has appeared Ronald Weasley's perfect life was not so perfect after all, however.
Recent news has come to light that Marietta Edgecomb, Ron's ex-fiancée, who has recently given birth to a daughter, was having an affair. The baby, Rose Cedrella, is, according to a source close to Marietta, not the daughter of Ron, but rather the product of Marietta's affair.
The couple were due to be married in an extravagant winter wedding in early January, yet the wedding has been called off with the truth of Rose's paternity. The only question that remains now is who is the father of baby Rose?
Ginny rapped on the front door of the two-storey house and waited with her hands on her hips. She could hear footsteps approaching from inside and put on her angriest face just in time for Marietta to open the door.
"Oh, Ginny," the blonde said bluntly. "Come in, I suppose."
"Gee, your hospitality is simply marvellous," Ginny snapped.
"Well I don't particularly want you in my house," Marietta stated in a bored fashion.
"Then it's a good thing this is my brother's house," retorted the fiery redhead. "He wants you out by tomorrow."
"I have a baby, you know. I need to find somewhere to live before I'm dumped out of Ron's home," Marietta explained and Ginny narrowed her eyes.
"Why don't you move in with your daughter's real father, rather than playing House with my brother? I'm sure Rose could do with the influence of her biological father in her life," Ginny said snidely and Marietta flushed with anger.
"What are you doing here?" Marietta ground out between gritted teeth.
"Just letting you know that if you even think to hurt anyone in my family ever again, I will do a lot worse than call you a bitch," Ginny threatened.
"I'm so scared," Marietta muttered. "And you haven't even called me a bitch."
"In that case, you are a bitch. Stay the fuck away from my brother and Merlin hope you aren't as bad of a mother as you are a girlfriend," Ginny said. Marietta looked taken aback and Ginny smiled triumphantly before getting to her feet and leaving the house, letting the door slam loudly behind her.
"Malfoy, could you please come here," came the impatient voice of Harold Beedle through the speaker in Draco's office. Draco let out a frustrated sigh and ruffled his hair slightly with his hand before pushing it back in place. He hated work at this point in time, and was feeling a strange longing to return to the wizarding world. He had read in the Prophet that there was an opening for a skilled Potions maker at the Ministry, something he was deeply interested in.
With another sigh he stood and quickly walked into the major office down the hall where a very unhappy Harold was seated behind his desk.
"Yes, Harold?" Draco asked wearily. He noticed one of his designs sitting on Harold's desk, covered in the boss' cramped writing which would no doubt be tips to improve upon. It seemed this was a bi-weekly occurrence. Draco would be called into Harold's office to have his designs slammed, and he would then crawl back to his own office in defeated spirits to try and mend his errors.
"What is this?" Harold asked, holding up the design for a telescope advertisement. Draco's original design was nearly impossible to see behind the 'pointers'.
"My design for the kids' telescope," he explained.
"No, it's shit. That is what it is," Harold said, scrunching the paper up and depositing it into the bin. "Look, your work hasn't been at all up to standards lately." Ah, so this was where it was headed. "Or ever, actually. You may have been a big shot in your little hole in the wall firm before you came here, but this is the big leagues and you aren't performing."
"And yet Janet's pretentiously pink design for that new baby doll got in without a second thought? I thought you valued originality," Draco commented dryly, arching a brow at his boss who had turned a furious shade of red.
"Malfoy, your attitude and your work do not seem to fit in at all here," Harold snapped. "You have until the end of the week and then I want you out of here."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course. I'll be gone by the end of the day," he commented and stood, sweeping swiftly from the room. He felt a strong desire to throw something at the glass walls of Harold's office but decided the repercussions of doing so would be far greater than losing a job he did not even need.
Grabbing the few personal items he had in his office (a photo of his mother and a photo of himself and Pansy taken on her wedding day) he shoved them into his briefcase and walked with his head held high from the building, ignoring the looks he got from the other employees. He decided to take the train home, seeing as he had nothing left to do until six o'clock that evening and it was only ten in the morning.
Upon reaching his apartment he loosened his tie, shrugged off his suit jacket and propped his feet up on the coffee table, opening the Daily Prophet. His grey eyes widened in surprise at the headline which screamed of the relationship breakup between Ronald Weasley and Marietta Edgecomb.
Things were getting interesting.
Lucius Malfoy felt old.
He was only fifty, barely old enough to be feeling the ravages of age, and yet he felt so terribly ancient. His hairline had receded greatly and he felt the aches and pains of winter in his joints. His hands shook nearly constantly and pain shot through his back whenever he moved too quickly. He wished he could retreat from the world and lock himself in his study for an eternity. He wished he could go back to the past and reverse all the damages he had done. He wished for it to be over.
"Hey, Ronny," Lavender purred when she entered the hotel room to see him seated at the foot of the bed. She strutted over to him, swaying her hips elaborately and twirling her hair around her finger. When she reached him she straddled his lap and ran her hands along his upper arms. "What's wrong, Ronny? Aren't you happy to see me?" she pouted.
"No, I mean, yes, I'm happy to see you," he forced a smile at her. "Can I talk to you?"
"Talking? We've never done that before," she frowned but got off his lap.
"You make it sound like you're a prostitute," he noted.
"Whatever pays the bills," she shrugged and he looked shocked. He composed himself a moment later.
"Why did you publish that article?" he asked and she gave a melodramatic sigh.
"It's my job, Ron. I'm a gossip columnist. I write what people want to hear and guess what, baby? You're what people want to hear," she said smoothly.
"But d'you have to make it sound so horrible?" he gave her a hopeless look and she rolled her eyes.
"Ron, that's what people want to hear. I'm simply giving the public what it wants," she said as though he were a fool, enunciating each word slowly.
"Whatever," he muttered and she let out an irritated snort. "Look, I don't really want anything from you today. I need to sort some things out."
"Fine," she snapped, standing up abruptly and smoothing down her near nonexistent skirt. "I suppose I might see you around." She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and left Ron sitting all alone, pondering what had become of his life.
Draco slung his thick black travelling cloak over his shoulders and stepped into the fireplace. He loathed travelling by Floo powder when he was wearing his fine cloak, but he also loathed the stares he gained from his muggle neighbours upon stepping from his apartment in the strange garment. Normally he would not even bother with the cloak, preferring to stick to simple muggle attire, but a gathering at Zabini Estate called for the finest wizarding attire.
He called out the name of his destination and the flames flashed green before he stepped out and into the parlour of the home of Blaise and Pansy Zabini. He dusted the soot off himself quickly and straightened his cloak.
"Draco," Blaise drawled from his seat at the head of the room, addressing Draco with a nod.
"Blaise," Draco replied coolly. The two had never been overly friendly, merely acquaintances, though their contact had been increased when Pansy had decided to marry the handsome Italian. "Where is Pansy?"
"She's still getting ready. The others should be coming shortly. Firewhiskey?" Blaise offered and Draco nodded, seating himself in a large and cushy armchair. Blaise flicked his wand and a large bottle of Ogden's finest appeared, pouring out two generous tumblers. One levitated its way to Draco who accepted the drink and took a deep sip.
"How is work?" Draco asked, detesting small talk but keen to break the silence.
"Busy. Pansy is lucky I managed to get this evening off. I'm meant to be working on a case regarding centaur land distribution in the south of England. The centaurs aren't exactly happy about us deciding where they can and can't roam," Blaise explained. He worked as a lawyer for the Ministry, dealing with the affairs of magical creatures. "How is the muggle place?"
"I got fired," Draco shrugged and Blaise's eyes lit up with amusement.
"What on earth for?" he inquired and Draco rolled his eyes.
"My boss hated me ever since I made my first secretary quit."
"Why would he hate you for that?" Blaise asked.
"He wanted her," Draco shrugged.
"Wanted her or wanted to fuck her?" came Pansy's voice as she entered the grand room. Blaise stood and swept over to take her arm, leading her to the couch.
"How crude, Pansy," Draco noted, not bothering to stand as etiquette dictated. He raised a hand in greeting instead and she mirrored his gesture with a perfectly manicured hand of her own.
"I'm simply saying that many men don't know what they want these days. They think they love somebody when all they really want is a quick fuck, and then they're gone," she stated as she sat and smoothed her dress. She leaned over to an end table and pulled it open, withdrawing a cigarette and her lighter.
"Thank you for your informed view of the men of today's world," Draco retorted. "I'm sure you have so much experience."
"Darling, Blaise is lucky he managed to keep me still long enough to put a ring on my finger. I've been with more people than even you," Pansy grinned and Blaise blanched.
"As nice as it is to hear you discuss your sex life prior to our marriage, can we change the subject?" Blaise asked and Draco chuckled.
"Blaise, I'm surprised she hasn't given you a detailed, blow-by-blow account of all her sexual conquests. Or perhaps that was simply for my benefit," he raised a brow in Pansy's direction and she smirked.
"It was all I could do after you told me about your sex life outside of our relationship when we were together in fourth year. I still cannot believe you were going at it when you were fourteen," she said, taking a long drag of her cigarette.
"Hey, what can I say? I put a spell on those Veelas," Draco winked. "They may have been seventeen, but I guess I just manage to attract the older ladies."
Pansy let out a loud laugh whilst Blaise watched on with a bemused expression.
"Dear, who are we expecting?" Blaise asked when Pansy seemed at a loss for a suitable reply.
"Millicent and Goyle should be here any moment and Daphne said she may drop by," Pansy replied and Draco made a face.
"Gee, thanks for the invite to a married couples party," he said sarcastically and Pansy grinned like a Cheshire cat.
"Hey, Daphne isn't married. You'll have some single company," she remarked.
"As long as you keep a leash on the bitch I'll be fine," he scowled and Pansy once again howled with laughter as the fire flashed green. Millicent Goyle, nee Bulstrode, stepped from the fireplace closely followed by Gregory Goyle.
Millicent was still as heavy jawed as she had been in her youth, but her body had slimmed down somewhat. She gave a smile to the occupants of the room, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth before sitting on one side of the empty loveseat and fiddling with her hair which was pulled to the side in a long ponytail.
Gregory followed suit. He was still large, but more muscular than pudgy, and dressed in a sharp black suit. His hair had grown out and he ran a hand through it upon joining his wife on the seat. Greetings were exchanged and elf made wine passed around as the Slytherin group lapsed into easy conversation.
They were all still interested to hear Draco's explanation of the article involving him and Hermione, but he waved the questions aside. He wasn't exactly keen to bring that fiasco up again. They at a delicious meal, courtesy of the Zabini house elves and retired once more to the parlour at eight o'clock. Fifteen minutes later the fireplace glowed green once more and Daphne Greengrass stepped out, looking down her nose at everyone in the room.
Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance.
The Greengrass family were exceedingly wealthy, and Astoria and Daphne, the two daughters of Teague Greengrass, were pampered beyond belief. Daphne was beautiful, without a doubt, and worked as a model for varying clothing brands throughout Europe. She believed that because of her job and wealth that she was superior to everyone, though the Malfoy family vault at Gringotts held at least three times more gold than that of the Greengrass family.
"Daphne, how nice of you to join us," Pansy said, standing and kissing Daphne on the cheek in greeting. "No introductions are in order, but I feel another bottle of wine is."
Daphne perched herself in the arm chair beside Draco, fluttering her eyelids in his direction. He sneered back.
"Why so cold, Drake?" she asked, creeping a hand across to grasp his forearm. He pulled his arm away.
"Draco, Daphne. Draco. My name is not Drake," he snapped coldly.
"From what Astoria's told me, you used to love her calling you Drake. Or maybe that was just when you made her co-,"
"Daphne," Draco warned her in a cold tone and she drew back, eyes twinkling with delight. "Your sister is as much of a cow as you are, and I assure you I only did what I did with Astoria to please the marriage contract our parents signed."
Daphne glared at him with cold eyes and he looked back without interest. After a few moments she let out an angry hiss and stood.
"I can see my presence is not wanted here by some members, so I will take my leave. Thank you for the invitation, Pansy," she said coldly and stepped into the fireplace before anyone could stop her. Draco let out a contented sigh and leaned back in his chair, taking her absence as a chance to enjoy the rest of the evening.
A/N: Hello, my lovelies. A short update for you, I'm sorry. I should get another update out before next Monday, when I return to school. Until then, review! And please check out the links in my profile :)
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