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Chapter Text

There is the way things should have happened (at least according to Lucius), and then there is what actually happened.

“I'm glad we could have this chat before you go to Hogwarts. There are things you need to know, so you can make the right choices. Some people,” Lucius shuddered delicately, “use something called teabags. Don't associate with them. It's a nasty habit picked up from Muggles, and we all know what they're like.”

“Yes, Father.”

“This is how our kind of people makes tea.” Lucius snapped his fingers. “Dobby!”

In another world, Draco tried the cup of Yorkshire tea Mrs Granger had brewed for him. “Way better than the Ministry canteen – thank you.”

Chapter Text

“What the hell is this, Finnigan – leprechaun piss?” Draco wiped his mouth, as if to remove the evidence.

Seamus looked injured. “It's tea, Malfoy. Remember I asked you if you wanted a cup of tea?'

“No,” Draco corrected him. “You said 'You'll have a cup of tea' – I wasn't given an option.”

“Anyway,” Seamus rolled his eyes, “here in the real world, this is what people drink. Have some milk.”

“I might have a slice of lemon. Please,” Draco added belatedly.

He had finished his cup of murky orange-brown liquid by the time Seamus stopped laughing.

Chapter Text

Originally written for Draco100 on Livejournal, for the prompt 'terrified'. It can be applied to several people here...

Structurally Unsound

-oOo-

"We could always burn it down." Draco sounded almost hopeful.

"Are you familiar with the term 'structurally unsound'? Or 'collapse'?" his mother asked. "It is what tends to happen when you remove a central part of a building."

"Perhaps not use Fiendfyre, then."

"My dear," Narcissa said, with finality, "Miss Granger has agreed to marry you. I doubt the continued existence of our drawing room will change her mind, no matter how the prospect unnerves you."

"I hope you're right," he mumbled.

"She is probably more concerned with the continued existence of your father and I. I shall keep a bezoar handy."

"Mother!"

Chapter Text

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Oh, there was a surprise – that one was in Azkaban.

Dead.

“Draco, what are you doing?”

“Checking the family tree. Aren't they suppose to get bigger rather than smaller?”

“Well, as to that...”

“Hermione?!”

After he put her down she looked at him sternly. “We are not naming him –“

“Or her –“ Draco couldn't stop smiling.

“ – or her after any star constellations. Roman names are out, too.”

“No dead people,” he countered.

“No Shakespeare.”

“What's left, then?” Draco asked reasonably.

She handed him a list.

“Sharon?”

“Or Kevin, if it's a boy.”

Chapter Text

"What do you mean, 'So yours is red, too?' Did you think it was green?" Granger must have been in a snit even before she crashed straight into Draco turning a corner.

"I thought – brown, maybe?" Draco felt lightheaded. Her nose had hit his chin with the considerable momentum of someone late for Potions with Snape.

"Brown? Why – Oh. Here's a tip, Malfoy. Try using your brain instead of believing everything they tell you. If they're right anyway, it won't matter. If they're wrong –"

They were wrong. About everything. It turned out Granger was worth listening to, however...

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"Doubting she'll turn up, Malfoy?"

Draco's wand burnt a hole in his pocket. "Shut it, Weasley."

"Leave him alone, Ron. If he's that insecure, nothing you say will make it worse." Potter turned to Draco: "She'll drag herself here even if she has two broken legs, Malfoy. Stop bloody pacing."

The fucker was even more annoying when he was being soothing.

"This is the first time you ever have been early for anything." Hermione's amused voice dissolved the knot in his stomach.

He held out his arm. "Shall we?"

"Let's do this, Mr Granger-Malfoy."

Draco swallowed, but Hermione was worth everything. Even hyphenation.

Chapter Text

“Look at this, Draco – he has Inferi!”

“Shows initiative, I suppose. Still –“ He held up a silver mask to Hermione, who shook her head sadly. “I know. One would think they would at least try to be original.”

The bundle of tattered clothing on on the floor groaned.

“Newsflash, Perkins – or whatever you call yourself these days. You've been busted.”

A glint of blue eyes was followed by a shower of red sparks, but it didn't reach far.

Draco yawned. “Let's go back to the Ministry, darling. We just need one more pretender to meet our quota this year.”

Chapter Text

It was up to Draco: he was the only one who could put an end to this.

His hand was shaking as he raised his wand, facing what once had been a man before him.

“Fool...” it hissed, before Draco was thrown back on a wave of pain.

He had failed.

He woke up sweating, his heart beating like that of a trapped bird. For the first time in his life, Draco fully comprehended what being Harry Potter was like. Compassion melted away with the darkness at dawn, but the memory sufficed to stay his tongue the day Potter was captured.