All in the Family; Ch. 4
Title: All in the Family (4/?)
Rating: R (or M for mature)
Genre: Humor, romance, a hint of drama
Pairing(s): Draco/Harry, Draco/Hermione (implied), Ginny/Luna (implied)
Warning: While mostly canon-compliant, this fic boldly and blatantly ignores that the epilogue ever happened.
Summary: "I think, first of all, we shouldn't tell anyone. And secondly, we shouldn't talk about it. Most importantly, it's probably just a good idea if we pretend it never happened."
Something happened between Draco and Hermione, something that never should have even been considered . . .
Reviews accepted and appreciated. Feedback is love!
Harry strode briskly down the hall and knocked fiercely on Draco's door. His key wouldn't work in the lock anymore, and every charm he could think of to break into the flat was useless. "Goddamn it, Draco! I know you're in there and you need to open this door!" He waited with his ear pressed against it.
Apparating hadn't worked - he'd tried that first when the door wouldn't open. Draco hadn't emerged from his little hidey-hole for three days, although Harry could hear the television going and sometimes imagined that he heard a cough from inside, or the sofa cushions squeaking. "What in the hell is going on in there?!" he demanded, not especially expecting an answer but feeling better for having shouted nonetheless.
There was nothing.
Frustrated and not knowing what else to try, Harry left.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
"I haven't seen him since Sunday, Harry," Hermione informed the indignant man stalking through her apartment apartment. Harry looked in all of her cabinets and cupboards, peeking underneath the bed and in the shower for what she could only assume was Draco. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to ask, "What exactly are you looking for?"
Harry sighed. "I have no idea. Draco, I guess, but it's kind of ridiculous to think that he'd be in your pantry, huh?"
"Well, it's equally ridiculous to think that he'd be in his apartment, hiding from the world and protecting himself with a barrage of charms," she mused, wringing her hands nervously. "Why don't you sit down, or something? You're making me fidgety pacing like that."
"Fine." He threw himself onto her sofa and stared at the wall. "When was the last time you saw him, again?"
She stared at him. "Are you okay?"
"No! He won't answer the door, my bloody key won't work, and I haven't heard a damn thing from him in days! He could be dead in there for all I know and I wouldn't be able to get to him!"
"Maybe he just needs some alone time."
"And why in the hell would he need alone time that involves him literally holing himself up like that? It just doesn't add up to me."
Hermione sat down at the other end of the couch and grabbed hold of one of Harry's feet - the incessant jiggling he'd been doing was driving her crazy. "Didn't you say you heard him coughing?"
"Well, he could have choked!" Harry sighed. "That sounds pretty absurd, doesn't it?"
"Yes." Hermione scrutinized the foot she was holding more carefully. "You need new shoes."
"Oh, please don't change the subject," Harry protested. "It's not going to make the problem go away."
"How are you so sure there's even a problem? Draco's not exactly a public person. Maybe something's upsetting him." Hermione tried to reasonable, but her insides were jumping. She realized what would be potentially traumatic and upsetting to him - and it wasn't something she was ready to divulge to Harry.
"What is it?" Harry asked, looking at her shrewdly and correctly interpreting her expression. "You just thought of something, didn't you?"
"Of course not," she protested, sounding even to herself like the biggest liar on the face of the planet. "I have no idea why Draco would act so out of character."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, well, when you're ready to tell me, just go ahead and say so. It's not like I haven't got all day. No plans without someone to do anything with!"
Hermione delicately raised an eyebrow, seizing her opportunity to successfully push the subject away. "You know, you're allowed to go out without Draco."
"I know that, it's just . . . I don't really want to anymore." He sighed. "There isn't any appeal to doing anything without him, really."
She smiled. "You really like him, don't you?"
The wistful glow in Harry's eyes said it all. A soft grin curled at his lips and he seemed relaxed for the first time since he'd blown into the flat like a hurricane. "Yeah, I really do." The wistful glow dissipated as a cold fury took its place. "Which is why it irks me so bad that he'd just hide and not even offer a feeble explanation! I know he doesn't have an easy time sharing, but don't I deserve at least some kind of warning?"
"Well," she said, a sage note to her voice, "things happen. Things that we don't exactly have time to plan for, you know?"
He stared at her blankly. "No. I really have no clue what you're talking about."
Struggling for an example, she seized on Harry's own experiences. "Well, like you and your destiny. You didn't ask for that, you know? It just happened, and you had to make the best of it."
"Well, I think that's a bit different than holing myself up and not even telling my best mates about it!"
"That's not at all what I was driving at, Harry," she said, a bit exasperated at how thick he could be. "People react to different situations differently, you know. You reacted to what life threw at you with courage and . . . bull-headedness, really . . . and Draco's reacting to whatever's happened to him by putting himself in a safe place where he can work it out. Do you understand what I mean now?"
"I suppose," he grumbled. With a heaving sigh, he pulled himself off the couch. "Do you want to go out for lunch or something? I haven't been able to eat much lately and I'm really hungry."
"Sure," she said, wondering what exactly it was about her flat that made her male visitors ravenous. "How do pancakes sound? I know a great little restaurant."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
The most humiliating experience of Draco's life, hands down, was the ferret incident with the fake Mad-Eye in fourth year. It wasn't something that he liked to dwell on, for obvious reasons, but he couldn't help but think of it in the days following his visit to Hermione's apartment. Like a ferret faced with a vicious and deadly predator, he was hiding.
Hiding, mostly, from Harry, although he certainly didn't want Hermione to find him, either. He'd answered no owls, hadn't responded to the door (despite frequent and desperate visits from Harry), had installed a deadbolt to keep Harry's key from working. Charms, too, were in place around the apartment - they weren't terribly strong but Draco knew that his main visitor would never find the ways around them. The only way another living soul would enter his flat would be with his permission.
He'd never really spent much time with the television before, had barely seen the merit of the funny muggle machine, but it had been a gift from Harry and he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Now, he was thankful that it hadn't found its way to the dumpster - daytime television was soothing to his frayed nerves. Dr. Phil was a wonderful show, he'd found: Watching other people's lives fall apart made him feel significantly better about himself.
What bothered him, though, were the diaper and formula commercials he kept seeing every other break in the program. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of at the present were his problems.
So, sometime after the first day of seclusion, he switched to the rather tall stack of action movies Harry had lent him. Only two of them even had mentions of babies, and they were nearly toddlers. None of them discussed which brand of diapers were best or what formula would get rid of your infant's hiccups. The sometimes-decent special effects held his attention. Draco was happy.
Halfway through his second viewing of "Lethal Weapon 4," his door spontaneously disintegrated and Hermione stepped through, wiping dust off of her shoulders and scowling at him. "Have you any idea how worried Harry is?"
"Just in time," he drawled, trying to hide his shock and dissuade his amazement. "You almost missed the best part. They're about to get the villain."
"Oh, great. You're making jokes like this is just the greatest thing in the whole world."
"Do something about the damn door, will you? Anyone could walk in with it . . . in dust like that."
"Well, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing! Maybe a friendly burglar will take away your telly so you'll pay attention to the people who love and need you!" Her righteous fury seemed to help suck away the stale fright he hadn't been able to shake away on his own.
"Look, I'm having a rather rough week, okay? So just fix the bloody door and sit down like a civilized person so we can discuss this." A sudden explosion from the television drew his attention back to the film's plot. "After the movie's over."
"I'm not going to wait for your goddamn movie to end so that we can 'talk'! There really isn't anything to talk about, Draco, I just wanted to let you know that you're being a coward and a fool and that you're needlessly worrying someone who should mean a lot more than you're showing."
"Well, tell him that he has my humblest apologies that I didn't invite him to my slumber party."
"Do you think that's what it is? That he feels left out because you haven't been spending time with him? Oh, you're even more of a fool than I thought you were."
"Don't you dare insult me! I know perfectly well the consequences of my choices. I plan to emerge before the child's birth, if that's what you're worried about. I'll long since have run out of food by then." He scooted over slightly as an invitation to end the conversation.
"Draco, you can't keep doing this. You can't just hide until there's nowhere to hide anymore. You have responsibilities, and Harry isn't the only one who misses you, you know."
He laughed. "No? Who else misses me, then? My friends - oops! I don't have any! The only people who associate with me now do so because of their foolish loyalty to Harry." Somberly, he shook his head. "No, there really isn't anything out there for me. Tell Harry I'm sorry - I just need some time."
She sat down next to him, pulled her feet up underneath her. "You know, I'm starting to think that there's a really good reason why pregnancy lasts so long."
"Why's that?" he asked, curious against his will.
"Well, for the obvious reasons - the baby needs time to grow and develop - but also because the parents need time to adjust to the idea of being parents."
Draco let that sit with him for a while before he replied, "You really think so?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I suppose that makes sense." He sighed. "Look, I know I'm not going about this the right way - "
"You think?" she shot.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm an awful potential father, I know. That's not what I was getting at." He looked away from her, away from the alluring pull of the television screen. "I just don't know how to deal with this yet. I wanted to give myself some time to think things through, come to a logical solution for everything that's happened."
"Lucky you for having so much free time on your hands."
"Are you ever going to stop taking pot shots at me?"
She grinned. "It keeps you on your toes."
"Yes, well, I prefer to be flat on the ground, thank you."
"Look, Draco, what I was getting at with the length of pregnancy thing is that you don't have to be ready right now. You don't even really have to accept the idea yet. Honestly, you can wait months and months until you care whether or not you're going to be a father."
"That's not how I work, though."
"Well, I'm just saying."
"Yeah, I know." He sighed again, realizing that he'd been doing an awful lot of that lately. "I just want to be prepared as soon as possible. I really don't know where to start . . . "
"Well, start with not hiding in your flat."
He grinned, running a hand through his hair. He was desperately in need of a shower. "Yeah, that would be a good place to start." They both stared at the screen for a while, transfixed by the glow of Hollywood and the gristle of a heated battle.
"Do you mind if I stay and watch this with you for a while?"
Feeling content with himself for the first time in what felt like a long time, Draco nodded. "Be my guest."
Chapter Five
Chapter Three
Rating: R (or M for mature)
Genre: Humor, romance, a hint of drama
Pairing(s): Draco/Harry, Draco/Hermione (implied), Ginny/Luna (implied)
Warning: While mostly canon-compliant, this fic boldly and blatantly ignores that the epilogue ever happened.
Summary: "I think, first of all, we shouldn't tell anyone. And secondly, we shouldn't talk about it. Most importantly, it's probably just a good idea if we pretend it never happened."
Something happened between Draco and Hermione, something that never should have even been considered . . .
Reviews accepted and appreciated. Feedback is love!
Harry strode briskly down the hall and knocked fiercely on Draco's door. His key wouldn't work in the lock anymore, and every charm he could think of to break into the flat was useless. "Goddamn it, Draco! I know you're in there and you need to open this door!" He waited with his ear pressed against it.
Apparating hadn't worked - he'd tried that first when the door wouldn't open. Draco hadn't emerged from his little hidey-hole for three days, although Harry could hear the television going and sometimes imagined that he heard a cough from inside, or the sofa cushions squeaking. "What in the hell is going on in there?!" he demanded, not especially expecting an answer but feeling better for having shouted nonetheless.
There was nothing.
Frustrated and not knowing what else to try, Harry left.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
"I haven't seen him since Sunday, Harry," Hermione informed the indignant man stalking through her apartment apartment. Harry looked in all of her cabinets and cupboards, peeking underneath the bed and in the shower for what she could only assume was Draco. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to ask, "What exactly are you looking for?"
Harry sighed. "I have no idea. Draco, I guess, but it's kind of ridiculous to think that he'd be in your pantry, huh?"
"Well, it's equally ridiculous to think that he'd be in his apartment, hiding from the world and protecting himself with a barrage of charms," she mused, wringing her hands nervously. "Why don't you sit down, or something? You're making me fidgety pacing like that."
"Fine." He threw himself onto her sofa and stared at the wall. "When was the last time you saw him, again?"
She stared at him. "Are you okay?"
"No! He won't answer the door, my bloody key won't work, and I haven't heard a damn thing from him in days! He could be dead in there for all I know and I wouldn't be able to get to him!"
"Maybe he just needs some alone time."
"And why in the hell would he need alone time that involves him literally holing himself up like that? It just doesn't add up to me."
Hermione sat down at the other end of the couch and grabbed hold of one of Harry's feet - the incessant jiggling he'd been doing was driving her crazy. "Didn't you say you heard him coughing?"
"Well, he could have choked!" Harry sighed. "That sounds pretty absurd, doesn't it?"
"Yes." Hermione scrutinized the foot she was holding more carefully. "You need new shoes."
"Oh, please don't change the subject," Harry protested. "It's not going to make the problem go away."
"How are you so sure there's even a problem? Draco's not exactly a public person. Maybe something's upsetting him." Hermione tried to reasonable, but her insides were jumping. She realized what would be potentially traumatic and upsetting to him - and it wasn't something she was ready to divulge to Harry.
"What is it?" Harry asked, looking at her shrewdly and correctly interpreting her expression. "You just thought of something, didn't you?"
"Of course not," she protested, sounding even to herself like the biggest liar on the face of the planet. "I have no idea why Draco would act so out of character."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, well, when you're ready to tell me, just go ahead and say so. It's not like I haven't got all day. No plans without someone to do anything with!"
Hermione delicately raised an eyebrow, seizing her opportunity to successfully push the subject away. "You know, you're allowed to go out without Draco."
"I know that, it's just . . . I don't really want to anymore." He sighed. "There isn't any appeal to doing anything without him, really."
She smiled. "You really like him, don't you?"
The wistful glow in Harry's eyes said it all. A soft grin curled at his lips and he seemed relaxed for the first time since he'd blown into the flat like a hurricane. "Yeah, I really do." The wistful glow dissipated as a cold fury took its place. "Which is why it irks me so bad that he'd just hide and not even offer a feeble explanation! I know he doesn't have an easy time sharing, but don't I deserve at least some kind of warning?"
"Well," she said, a sage note to her voice, "things happen. Things that we don't exactly have time to plan for, you know?"
He stared at her blankly. "No. I really have no clue what you're talking about."
Struggling for an example, she seized on Harry's own experiences. "Well, like you and your destiny. You didn't ask for that, you know? It just happened, and you had to make the best of it."
"Well, I think that's a bit different than holing myself up and not even telling my best mates about it!"
"That's not at all what I was driving at, Harry," she said, a bit exasperated at how thick he could be. "People react to different situations differently, you know. You reacted to what life threw at you with courage and . . . bull-headedness, really . . . and Draco's reacting to whatever's happened to him by putting himself in a safe place where he can work it out. Do you understand what I mean now?"
"I suppose," he grumbled. With a heaving sigh, he pulled himself off the couch. "Do you want to go out for lunch or something? I haven't been able to eat much lately and I'm really hungry."
"Sure," she said, wondering what exactly it was about her flat that made her male visitors ravenous. "How do pancakes sound? I know a great little restaurant."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
The most humiliating experience of Draco's life, hands down, was the ferret incident with the fake Mad-Eye in fourth year. It wasn't something that he liked to dwell on, for obvious reasons, but he couldn't help but think of it in the days following his visit to Hermione's apartment. Like a ferret faced with a vicious and deadly predator, he was hiding.
Hiding, mostly, from Harry, although he certainly didn't want Hermione to find him, either. He'd answered no owls, hadn't responded to the door (despite frequent and desperate visits from Harry), had installed a deadbolt to keep Harry's key from working. Charms, too, were in place around the apartment - they weren't terribly strong but Draco knew that his main visitor would never find the ways around them. The only way another living soul would enter his flat would be with his permission.
He'd never really spent much time with the television before, had barely seen the merit of the funny muggle machine, but it had been a gift from Harry and he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Now, he was thankful that it hadn't found its way to the dumpster - daytime television was soothing to his frayed nerves. Dr. Phil was a wonderful show, he'd found: Watching other people's lives fall apart made him feel significantly better about himself.
What bothered him, though, were the diaper and formula commercials he kept seeing every other break in the program. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of at the present were his problems.
So, sometime after the first day of seclusion, he switched to the rather tall stack of action movies Harry had lent him. Only two of them even had mentions of babies, and they were nearly toddlers. None of them discussed which brand of diapers were best or what formula would get rid of your infant's hiccups. The sometimes-decent special effects held his attention. Draco was happy.
Halfway through his second viewing of "Lethal Weapon 4," his door spontaneously disintegrated and Hermione stepped through, wiping dust off of her shoulders and scowling at him. "Have you any idea how worried Harry is?"
"Just in time," he drawled, trying to hide his shock and dissuade his amazement. "You almost missed the best part. They're about to get the villain."
"Oh, great. You're making jokes like this is just the greatest thing in the whole world."
"Do something about the damn door, will you? Anyone could walk in with it . . . in dust like that."
"Well, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing! Maybe a friendly burglar will take away your telly so you'll pay attention to the people who love and need you!" Her righteous fury seemed to help suck away the stale fright he hadn't been able to shake away on his own.
"Look, I'm having a rather rough week, okay? So just fix the bloody door and sit down like a civilized person so we can discuss this." A sudden explosion from the television drew his attention back to the film's plot. "After the movie's over."
"I'm not going to wait for your goddamn movie to end so that we can 'talk'! There really isn't anything to talk about, Draco, I just wanted to let you know that you're being a coward and a fool and that you're needlessly worrying someone who should mean a lot more than you're showing."
"Well, tell him that he has my humblest apologies that I didn't invite him to my slumber party."
"Do you think that's what it is? That he feels left out because you haven't been spending time with him? Oh, you're even more of a fool than I thought you were."
"Don't you dare insult me! I know perfectly well the consequences of my choices. I plan to emerge before the child's birth, if that's what you're worried about. I'll long since have run out of food by then." He scooted over slightly as an invitation to end the conversation.
"Draco, you can't keep doing this. You can't just hide until there's nowhere to hide anymore. You have responsibilities, and Harry isn't the only one who misses you, you know."
He laughed. "No? Who else misses me, then? My friends - oops! I don't have any! The only people who associate with me now do so because of their foolish loyalty to Harry." Somberly, he shook his head. "No, there really isn't anything out there for me. Tell Harry I'm sorry - I just need some time."
She sat down next to him, pulled her feet up underneath her. "You know, I'm starting to think that there's a really good reason why pregnancy lasts so long."
"Why's that?" he asked, curious against his will.
"Well, for the obvious reasons - the baby needs time to grow and develop - but also because the parents need time to adjust to the idea of being parents."
Draco let that sit with him for a while before he replied, "You really think so?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I suppose that makes sense." He sighed. "Look, I know I'm not going about this the right way - "
"You think?" she shot.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm an awful potential father, I know. That's not what I was getting at." He looked away from her, away from the alluring pull of the television screen. "I just don't know how to deal with this yet. I wanted to give myself some time to think things through, come to a logical solution for everything that's happened."
"Lucky you for having so much free time on your hands."
"Are you ever going to stop taking pot shots at me?"
She grinned. "It keeps you on your toes."
"Yes, well, I prefer to be flat on the ground, thank you."
"Look, Draco, what I was getting at with the length of pregnancy thing is that you don't have to be ready right now. You don't even really have to accept the idea yet. Honestly, you can wait months and months until you care whether or not you're going to be a father."
"That's not how I work, though."
"Well, I'm just saying."
"Yeah, I know." He sighed again, realizing that he'd been doing an awful lot of that lately. "I just want to be prepared as soon as possible. I really don't know where to start . . . "
"Well, start with not hiding in your flat."
He grinned, running a hand through his hair. He was desperately in need of a shower. "Yeah, that would be a good place to start." They both stared at the screen for a while, transfixed by the glow of Hollywood and the gristle of a heated battle.
"Do you mind if I stay and watch this with you for a while?"
Feeling content with himself for the first time in what felt like a long time, Draco nodded. "Be my guest."
Chapter Five
Chapter Three