Fic: Ask Dr. Draco (Part I)
Title: Ask Dr. Draco
Authors: lucilla_darkate & judas_denied
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rated: R (NC17 later)
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Snape/Hermione/Lucius, Pansy/Luna, Sirius/everyone, erm... too many pairings to list, really.
Warnings: Crack, slash, femme slash, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, abusive relationships, dub-con (eventually), Sirius being alive without any real attempt at explaining why, irreverence on a mass scale, political incorrectness (also on a mass scale)//Will Xpost it later.
Summary: Magical war veterans spend their days (and nights) getting drunk, stoned, shagging the bejesus out of each other, and watching TiVo. Oh, and Draco passes around relationship advice and prefers Oprah to Jeff Corwin. Lucius fights a losing battle with the 'wand with buttons' to watch the Weather Channel and Animal Planet. Hermione is currently tied with Sirius as queen slut of Malfoy Manor, but he's gaining a significant lead. Remus really isn't as calm about the whole thing as everyone seems to think. And Ronda and Vicky really aren't gay. They just like each other a lot.
Hermione watched the crowded ballroom with her keen eyes and her lips quirked a small smile at the activity around her. So many had shown up for the unveiling of the Fallen Wizard's memorial that she could hardly believe it. Her eyes wandered the room to where Draco stood, hugging his now-single mother enthusiastically. His pale hair was glossy under the lights from the chandeliers and his pin-stripe grey suit looked stunning on his lean frame. She allowed her gaze to shift to the far corner of the room where Ron sat at a table, nursing a whiskey sour and having what appeared to be a very amicable conversation with a magically altered potted palm. Hermione frowned a bit as she realized he had not bothered to change out of the clothes he'd worn all day (and the day before, for that matter). Viktor Krum sat beside him, looking as stern and foreboding as ever. Once in awhile, his eyes would shift to Ron and the hard gleam in them would soften almost imperceptibly.
"That's a closet case couple if ever there was one," spoke a smooth voice from behind her.
With a slight start, Hermione tilted her head back to see Draco smirking in the direction she had been looking. She laughed and nodded her head in agreement. "When did you make it back over this way? I thought you were working the crowd."
"Honey, even greatness needs to take a break. I've shaken so many hands I just know I will have calluses, perhaps even blisters. Ew!" Draco made a disgusted face and sat down to her far left, by his father who looked bored by everything. It was only a moment before he professed said boredom.
"These things are just awful," Lucius groused from his seat beside Hermione. "Why must they glorify something that was far from glorious? It was war and these peons see fit to celebrate it? I despise this and furthermore, if one more simpering lunatic harasses me, I shall hex them. Mark my words."
"Perhaps they wouldn't notice you so, had you chosen a less conspicuous drink," said a sneering voice directly from Hermione's right.
"Shut up, Severus. I’ll have you know there is nothing wrong with my choice of beverage. It has a very high alcohol content," Lucius sniffed before looking down at his fizzing, electric blue cocktail and taking a sip from the long straw.
"As does single malt Scotch, you fruit. That abomination you are drinking even has one of those dreadful umbrella things in it," Snape pointed out with a flick of his pale hand at the drink.
"If you two don't stop this right now, I know two wizards who are going to be very lonely tonight," Hermione said sternly, glaring between them.
Lucius and Snape complied, albeit reluctantly and spent the next ten minutes giving each other dirty looks.
There was a lull in conversation then and Hermione allowed her eyes to once more scan the room. She looked on with great interest as the twins waylaid a very startled Remus Lupin on his way back to their shared table from the snack bar. Hermione guessed from the look of utter entrapment and amused annoyance on his face that they were once more trying to con him into a threesome behind Sirius's back. They should've known by then that it would never happen since werewolves and wolves were very much alike when it came to their loyalty to their mates. Had they approached Sirius instead, Hermione wasn't so sure how he'd have reacted.
Lastly, her eyes settled on the open bar and drifted over to a suspiciously dark corner. It had darkening charm written all over it. But there was just enough light that she could make out Harry's silhouette, seated on a stool nursing his usual vodka on the rocks. Though she couldn't see it, she knew very well that both the drink and his seemingly permanent scowl were firmly affixed to his hand and his face. The only time he really ever smiled or laughed was with Draco and even that was rare. He'd started to become sullen and withdrawn near the end of the war and had not improved one bit since.
Tonight, it was even worse. He'd came to honor the dead, but having to give a speech was not on his list of top priorities and he'd gone rigid with rage when he had been allowed to see the humongous marble sculpture that was to be erected in the entrance hall of the Ministry. The names of the deceased were all listed on the base of the statue, but the figures on top of it were of none other than Harry standing over the corpse of Voldemort, wand raised in victory.
"It didn't happen that way," he'd snarled as he walked away and made a beeline to the bar where he'd sat for the rest of the night. Draco had tried to talk to him and been dismissed out of hand. Harry was beyond comfort.
She was drawn out of her reveries when she heard a female voice calling for everyone's attention. Hermione and the rest of the crowd, aside from Ron who was still in deep conversation with the plant, turned their eyes to the front of the large room.
Minerva McGonagall waited until all conversation had ceased before beginning to speak. "I'd like to thank you all for coming to this anniversary and memorial event. We all lost so many, and so much, yet together we have triumphed. It is for that reason that we have gathered here today to celebrate our fallen comrades and honor their memory . . .”
Hermione's focus on her former professor waned as she heard whispers from a neighboring table and looked to see two older, snooty looking witches talking behind their hands and casting pointed looks at her. Heaving a sigh, Hermione grasped her gin and tonic, taking a swallow as she thought, Now here's the part where they start saying 'Oh what a shame about her, such a smart girl she was. And she had so much potential! Yet, she wastes it all on a house full of war veterans - yes, I know the girl fought as well, but she could've done such great things - and suspected Death Eaters. Sure, they say they were spies for the Order, but who really knows? Not to mention, have you heard about her, the elder Malfoy and that dreadful Potions Master?'
She raised her drink to the two gossips and offered them a raised eyebrow with an arch smile to match as she laid a hand on Severus's shoulder and squeezed. He absently patted her hand as she held their stunned gazes, her smile widening as she set her drink down and stroked Lucius's long hair. He caught on and snickered before leaning close to her, whispering, "Now, now, pet . . . mustn't scare the locals."
"Would you all please be quiet!" Draco exclaimed irritably. "It's time for Harry's speech. None of you pay attention to anything other than your hormones."
He sat back in his chair with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Harry's arse as he made his way to the stage. Draco's eyes clouded with barely contained alarm when he saw the way Harry swayed a bit as he climbed up on the dais that stood in front of the memorial that had been unveiled during McGonagall's speech.
It was to be moved to the Ministry's entry hall on Monday.
Harry stood, surveying the crowd as one hand fingered the rim of his vodka glass with nervous agitation. All eyes were fixed on him. The real him, and the joke in stone behind him. His viridian eyes narrowed as he was consumed by rage that licked its way through him like a flood of lava. Flicking his tongue over his lips to moisten them, he finished his drink in one draught. As he lowered his head, he fixed his enraged glare on the crowd and through clenched teeth spat, "I want to piss on you all!"
Draco's shocked squawk was the only sound in the room. The rest of the crowd sat in stunned silence. Harry spun on his heel and hurled the crystal glass at the statue. It broke across the center of his face, raining needle sharp shards of glass down on him, piercing his arms and left cheek. Without another word, he stormed from the dais and through the now murmuring crowd that was growing louder with each passing second. He paused only long enough by the table where most of 'his' group was seated and spoke to Draco and Hermione, "Get Ron, Viktor and whatever other strays there are and come on. We're going home."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco was monumentally pissed off, but he managed to control his temper until they were back at the manor. However, the moment the heavy oak doors closed, he gave it free reign.
“You incomparable bastard,” he snarled at Harry.
Harry lifted a brow at him and said nothing.
“Well?” Draco said. “Say something!”
“I’m going to bed,” Harry said, and walked past him.
Draco watched him with his eyes narrowed to bright silver slits. “Do you have any idea at all the kind of planning and organization it took to pull that party off with anything resembling style?”
“That would be your particular area of expertise, not mine,” Harry said, pausing with a hand on the banister and a foot on the bottom landing.
“Months,” Draco snapped. “There were caterers and flower shops to negotiate with, invitations to have made, then sent, there was the cake-which was a major pain in the ass, I don’t mind telling you-the decorations and the decorators, not to mention the monument itself-”
“Please, don’t mention it,” Harry said dryly.
Draco stopped talking and went very still. “It wouldn’t have mattered. You still would have hated it.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Hermione sighed. “Will you two please stop it? Do you even know what you’re fighting about?”
“Has that ever stopped us before?” Harry asked, sounding tired.
“I know precisely what we’re fighting about, and so do you, you insensitive asshole!” Draco picked up the nearest solid object that was not attached to the wall or the floor-a Ming vase-and hurled it. The vase exploded into thousands of tiny little shards on the floor by Harry’s feet.
Ron and Viktor, wisely, took this opportune moment to disappear. Hermione crossed her arms over her breasts and glared between Harry’s cold, impassive face and Draco’s frankly enraged one, but said nothing. Lucius and Severus meanwhile, appeared to be vastly entertained by the whole thing.
“I’m going to go have another drink, then a shower because this entire affair-hell, this entire day-has made me feel filthy, then I’m going to bed,” Harry said calmly. “When you calm down, you’re welcome to join me.”
Draco laughed. “Am I really? In my own house, imagine that.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “No, I don’t fucking think so. You can spend the night alone.”
Harry shrugged and began making his way up the stairs. “Suit yourself.”
“Oh, believe me, I will,” Draco said. He gave Harry a meaningful look under lifted brows. “And at least for tonight, so will you.”
Draco turned and walked away. Harry glared after him for a second before disappearing up the stairs. A few moments later, the bedroom door slammed.
“Well, that was certainly entertaining,” Lucius said.
“I thought so,” Severus said.
Hermione grumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like fucking divas.
“Willy!”
Hermione’s head came around and she glared wrathfully in the direction of that voice. “Draco Malfoy, don’t you dare take your sorry fucking temper out on that poor creature!”
“Hermione Granger, don’t you think for one bloody second that just because you’re fucking my dear old daddy you can give me orders!” Draco shouted right back. “Willy! Get your scraggly little ass in here right now and clean this up!”
Hermione gave Lucius a meaningful look. A look which plainly said, you do something about this right now or I will.
Lucius smiled enigmatically. “Don’t let me stop you, pet. You’re doing a splendid job.”
“Careful, Lucius,” Hermione said quietly, “or you’ll be diddling yourself tonight too.”
Lucius grinned unrepentantly at her and slung an arm around Severus’ shoulders. “Maybe…and maybe not.”
“Willy! Don’t make me come get you or you’ll be spending the night locked in the broom cupboard making nice with the cutlery!”
“For the love of god,” Hermione groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Somebody go turn on the telly and put on Oprah before he kills another house elf.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A door slammed and Hermione groaned, rolled over, and promptly shoved Lucius off the couch onto the floor.
Lucius sat up, still half asleep, and looked around blearily.
“I told you, I didn’t actually do anything, Remus,” Sirius said. His voice was suspiciously slurred, event through all of that whining. “I just watched is all.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Sirius,” Remus said, sounding positively cheerful for…Lucius turned his head and narrowed his eyes at the clock on the lamp table…one o’clock in the afternoon.
“It is not shit-”
“It is.”
“Would I shit you, Remus?”
“You most certainly would,” Remus said.
Remus had hold of Sirius by the back of his wrinkled collar and was dragging him through the doorway. Something that under any other circumstances would have warmed Lucius's heart to see, but bloody hell, he’d been sleeping. Couldn’t they have their rows at a decent fucking hour?
“I swear to God, I didn’t-”
“You don’t believe in God, Sirius,” Remus said patiently.
“But, Remus-”
“Save it,” Remus said. “I can smell Weasley all over you, and you don’t get that from just watching.”
“Would you two please shut the fuck up!” Hermione snarled, her voice muffled half by the couch cushion and half by Severus's arm, which was flung over her shoulders with the hand pressing against her face.
Severus grumbled and shifted against her back, nuzzling her hair.
Sirius jerked out of Remus's grasp and headed for the kitchen in search of something for his massive hangover. He almost ran right into Draco, who was carrying a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies.
“Good morning, Sirius,” he said in a much-too-cheerful voice, holding out the plate for him. “Want a chocolate chip cookie?”
Sirius made a face and eased by him. “No, I do not want a fucking cookie,” he snapped. “I want an aspirin. Possibly a whole bottle of aspirin.”
“Sirius has a hangover,” Remus informed them all. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked disapproving. “Serves you right for following your baser bitch instincts and chasing after Weasleys.”
Sirius muttered under his breath, swiped his long black hair out of his face, and began rummaging through the cupboards for pain pills.
Draco set the plate of cookies down on the coffee table by his father and went back into the kitchen to make Sirius a bloody Mary.
Lucius grinned after him, took a cookie from the plate, and bit into it.
Remus looked at Lucius sitting on the floor in nothing but his pajama pants, happily munching on a cookie and jerked his head in Draco’s direction. “Fight?”
“Of course,” Lucius said, brushing crumbs from his fingertips and debating over another cookie. “Isn’t it always?”
Remus lifted a brow. “Is he okay?” he asked, meaning Draco.
“He’s fine,” Lucius said. “Sent Potter to bed alone and stayed up all night playing reruns of Dr. Phil and All My Children, driving us all nuts with trivia about some stupid American socialite named Paris something-or-other.”
“Hilton,” Remus supplied automatically.
Lucius waved that away and decided on another cookie. “Whatever.”
There was a loud crashing commotion from the kitchen and they all looked up, even Hermione and Severus.
Severus swiped his hair out of his eyes and sat up. Hermione cursed colorfully and got to her feet. Her shirt had hiked up in the night, probably with a lot of help from Lucius and Severus, and she jerked it down before angrily crossing the room to the kitchen.
“What the bloody fucking hell is going on in here?” she demanded. “In case it has somehow escaped your notice, some people-namely me-are trying to fucking well sleep in here!”
“And a good morning to you too, Granger,” Sirius said. “Want a darvocet? You look like you could use one…or two.”
“No, I do not want a darvocet,” Hermione snarled. She smacked the proffered pills out of his hand and glared at him. She had to tilt her head back to do it because he was more than a foot taller than her, but it didn’t make her any less intimidating.
Draco finished mixing the drink for Sirius, plopped a stick of celery into it, and wordlessly handed it to him before checking on his cookies to make sure they hadn’t burned.
Sirius looked at Draco bent over the oven, then back at the drink. He took a long swallow of the spicy tomato liquid, then tossed back three of the pain pills and downed them with the rest of it.
“You stay out all night long,” Hermione began, warming up to a full out mommy-lecture, “and from what I heard, alone-”
“Must have missed that part about the Weasley’s then,” Sirius said.
“Without Remus, then” Hermione snapped. “The point is, none of us knew where you were. And-”
Sirius gave her a pointed look, raking his eyes over her chest in a way that, despite the modest cut of her top, made her feel just about naked. “In case you haven’t noticed, Granger, I’m a grown up. I can handle myself.”
Hermione did not blush. She had long become accustomed to Sirius's defense mechanisms and they did not faze her. Besides, they all knew that he preferred boys. “Oh yes, and you appear to be taking care of yourself just fine right now,” she said sarcastically.
Sirius shrugged. The woman was going to bitch at him no matter what, she had made her mind up about that already, the only thing for it was to sit back and take it. He just wished she’d hurry it along. He needed to take a shower.
“You have got the attention span of a toddler on crack and the sexual decorum of a hound on the rut,” Hermione said.
“Now let’s not get personal, Granger,” Sirius said. “Wouldn’t want me to drag out all of your past conquests for the world to see, would you? I think you might be nearly tied with me in that area.”
Hermione glared at him and thought about smacking his face. The only reason why she didn’t was because Sirius was one of very few men of her acquaintance who would have smacked her back and felt well justified in doing so.
“Maybe we’ll have to start tying you to Remus’s bed,” Hermione retorted. “How would you like that?”
Remus was coming into the kitchen when she said this and paused in the doorway.
Sirius looked at him, then at her, and grinned. He swiped a cookie off the tray that Draco had just removed from the oven and was setting on the counter, took a bite, and said, “Could be fun.”
Remus and Draco choked on a laugh. Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, but Sirius winked at Remus and went to take his shower, a suggestive sway to his hips as he went.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was after three p.m. when Harry came downstairs. The rest of the group had long since retired to the massive den to watch their afternoon tv programs. Lucius was currently embroiled in a bitter debate with Draco over whether or not it was his day to watch Animal Planet and TiVo Draco's soaps, or if it was the other way. The older man was livid by the time Harry blundered into the room, drink in hand and already well tipsy.
"Just let him watch the goddamned show, Draco, before he blows a vein," Harry said as he plopped down on the large leather sofa between Draco and Sirius, the latter of which tipped his fourth Bloody Mary at his godson, sloshing it on his sleeve and the sofa itself.
"That's a waste of fine spirits, there," Sirius groused slurrily as he rolled his head to the side and blinked stupidly at it.
"It would appear that alcoholism runs in adoptive types of families as well," said Snape from his position in a wingback chair that looked dreadfully uncomfortable, the sleeve of his robe artfully covering his own glass of port from view.
Harry looked pissed, Sirius giggled and Lucius crowed in triumph as he wrested the remote away from Draco's tenacious grip and fled to the far side of the room where Hermione sat with Ron and Viktor. Ron murmured softly to his prized begonia and stroked its soft green leaves. Lucius curled his lip and fought the urge to fling the household idiot's damned plant across the room, just in hopes that he would cry. Locking his will against such a petty act, he presented the remote to Hermione and told her, "Corwin's on today. Quickly now, change to the program for me."
"Lucius, you really need to learn how to operate this equipment your own fucking self. Also, do stop referring the universal remote as 'the wand with buttons' you sound like a bleeding feeble minded village idiot," she said even as she took the remote and changed the channel to the program he wanted to see.
"No pet, I believe Weasley there has already filled the position of village idiot," Lucius drawled.
"Hey!" Ron snapped out, blue eyes sparking with irritation as he glared up at the Malfoy that was currently smirking at him, looking very pleased with himself. "I'm not an idiot, Malfoy!"
"You talk to a plant. You're an idiot. Now shut up and let me watch my program in relative peace."
"Lucius Malfoy, do not talk to Ronald like that within earshot of me ever again," Hermione growled. "He can't help if he's a bit dim."
Ron's mouth fell open in shock at her last statement. "Damnit, 'Mione, that's not fair. You're upsetting Gilbert, too."
"Gilbert?" Draco raised his eyebrows.
Ron gestured angrily with his begonia. "Yes, Gilbert! My friendly little friend."
"Dear gods," Lucius snapped. "I am trying to listen to my program. He's looking for the elusive black mamba. Have you no consideration for a man's viewing needs? I swear, next commercial, I am having a drink. Oh . . . would you look at that, Black has passed out cold. At least he made it past noon today. Delightful."
Indeed, Sirius was slumped forward in his seat, a string of Bloody Mary stained drool hanging from his lip.
"He makes it far longer than that, Lucius and you know it," Ron said, rising to the aid and threatened pride of a defenseless fellow former Gryffindor.
"It is no use talking to these angry people, Ronald. Come, let us go explore the gardens. The irises are blooming this time of year," spoke Viktor Krum from his spot beside the livid, red faced Weasley.
Snickers resounded in the room. "Sure, Vicky, you two are going to look at irises in the gardens. And will you be planting any of your own seed in dear old Ronda?"
"You are shutting your mouth now, Draco Malfoy. We are not homosexuals. We are fine men, fit for breeding with women, not each other," Viktor said in his thick accent.
"You just keep telling yourselves that," Harry piped up, as the pair made their way from the room in a collectively self righteous huff.
"Finally! Yes, get the idiot out of here!" Lucius snapped, pulling a snorting laugh from Snape who by that time was only pretending to read his book, more interested in casting surreptitious glances at the tops of Hermione's breasts which were spilling out of her low-cut top as she desperately tried to soothe the irate elder Malfoy by combing her fingers through his long, thick hair. His lips quirked up further as he saw her dart a quick look to make sure Lucius was once more ensconced in his show before she started separating the soft locks into three pieces.
She's really going to do it this time, Snape thought with unholy glee. Lucius Malfoy with plaited hair would be a sight to see and Hermione was a smart girl - she knew when he was too distracted to notice what was about to become of his much touted and preened over hair. He recalled with a slight grimace the time she had done similar to him while he slept off a two-bottle night. Much to his chagrin he had awoken with two jaunty pigtails the next morning that no one bothered to point out to him until some time much later in the day. He'd been furious with her, but she'd made up for it with her talented mouth in an upstairs broom closet.
Halfway through the Corwin Experience, Lucius's gleaming hair was partly braided and looking very feminine in its French plait. The man was so lost in his program, his threat from earlier about getting a drink had been forgotten. Draco looked at his father with a wry smile, recalling his initial reaction to having Muggle technology in his home. It certainly had not been pretty to have Lucius Malfoy arrive home from abroad to find a television set in one of his favorite parlors in the entire manor, not to mention outlets - outlets! To say he had given Draco the silent treatment after his initial tirade was the least of his worries at the time.
Eventually, his natural curiosity had gotten the better of him and Draco had overheard him asking Hermione one night how they got 'the little people in the box'. She had, at the time, gone to fetch Draco who'd attempted to look casual when she opened the door and found him eavesdropping. A harsh throat clearing and a pointed look told him he was fooling no one and his father looked completely bumfuzzled when she nodded at Draco and said, "I think he's ready now."
They had first introduced Lucius to the blender, which had proven to be a loud, messy experience when he, not only left the lid off of the device, but the spoon he'd insisted on stirring his rum-laced chocolate shake with. Draco had grimaced at the proposal of sweets that late, but his father had snarled with indignation and said something about how it was necessary to be decadent in life and that Draco was, essentially, not the parent there.
Draco was snapped out of his thoughts by the low murmur of Harry's voice saying, "Accio Smirnoff."
Draco gritted his teeth and prepared to duck.
Which thankfully proved to be unnecessary, though not because Harry’s aim was worth a damn. Still half asleep, Sirius lazily reached out and snatched the bottle from the air about five inches from the end of Draco’s nose. Sirius uncapped the bottle and took a long swig before tossing it to Harry. Though he was quite a bit drunker than Harry, his aim was considerably better and it landed in Harry’s lap.
“Thanks,” Draco said to Sirius.
Sirius winked at him and promptly passed out again.
Draco turned and glared at Harry who returned the glare with a serene smile.
“If it hadn’t have been for your godfather, Harry, I’d have a split skull now thanks to your shitty aim, so don’t you dare smile at me,” Draco spat out.
“Shut up, Draco,” Harry said in a clipped, low tone, the corners of his smile pulling tight and his eyes taking on a hard glint.
“Fuck you, Harry, it’s not even four yet and you’re almost as drunk as Sirius is, but not nearly as entertaining.”
“I said, shut up, Draco,” Harry replied once more, all smile gone, the expression replaced with a hard look to match the warning tone in his voice.
“Or what?” Draco asked, snapping his head around to look at Harry again. “Fucking lush.” He finished with a hiss as he turned his head back to the television program.
“Or I’ll make you,” Harry said, his voice eerily calm as he leaned over to whisper in his ear. He grabbed Draco’s wrist in a vice-like grip, grinding the bones together painfully as he spoke.
“Harry, let go. Please?” Draco asked softly, going rigid beside him as he darted an anxious look over to his father on the other side of the room, relieved to see he was still engrossed in his program. A soft laugh from Harry was his only response.
From beside them a sharp pair of ears perked up and Sirius’s eyes blinked open. He lifted heavy lidded eyes to look at Remus who was intently watching the pair. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at him but he only frowned a bit, shaking his head, seemingly at a loss.
Sirius decided it was best to diffuse the situation without drawing undue attention to themselves from the others in the room. He silently congratulated himself on such a clever plan before clearing his throat and saying, “Harry, if you’re not going to drink that vodka, give it to someone who will. Hmm?”
Harry quickly let go of Draco and turned to Sirius with a brilliant smile. “You saying I can’t drink, Black?”
“I’m saying you may need a few lessons, yeah,” Sirius said with a cheeky smile, holding his hand out for the bottle.
Harry was in the process of passing the bottle to Sirius, pointedly ignoring Draco who was rubbing his wrist and trying not to wince when a female voice cut in on Jeff Corwin’s who was excitedly describing the venomous properties of the pit viper family.
”We now interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you this special news bulletin. Animal Planet has just been informed that our very own Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, has been killed in a swimming accident off the coast of North Queensland during filming.We are all shocked and saddened by this terrible event, and mourn for his family’s loss as well. We spoke to Paul Lewis, President and General Manager of Discovery just a few moments ago over the phone and this is what he had to say, ‘Discovery Channel and Animal Planet first introduced Steve Irwin to Canadians through his popular show Crocodile Hunter. While there have been many imitators since, Steve was a true original and his incredible energy, passion and love for life will remain true fixtures of both networks.’
Of course, he is right. This loss affects us all and once again - we grieve. Discovery Channel and Animal Planet will have more news as it is forthcoming. We now return you to your program already in progress.”
The den was silent for a moment until an incredulous snort from Sirius sounded.
“What the fuck does Canada have to do with anything?” He asked the room with another disbelieving snort.
Lucius looked pained for a moment as he stared at the television, longing for his program to be returned, but seeing only commercials in its stead. Then he said, “For once, I have to say - I agree with Black.”
He quieted then, losing himself in thought for a moment before the corners of his mouth began to twitch, his shoulders beginning to shake almost imperceptibly. Hermione frowned down at him, his hair still trailing from her fingers. She shook her head a bit and went back to braiding. Severus also looked up, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval for what he knew was coming. Draco only smirked, some of his own humor beginning to return. The whole room waited in the pregnant silence that had once more fallen on the room.
And finally it happened:
Lucius cried out ecstatically, nearly yanking out the hair that was still dangling from Hermione's hands.
"Lucius! Someone's death is not something to be happy about," Hermione admonished sternly.
"Pish, that man was a scourge on my existence. Crikey indeed!" Lucius said mockingly before turning grave. "BUT . . . the fact that they interrupted my program for that bit of drivel was unseemly. The man taunts me even from the grave. Anyway, it was to be expected. The man cavorted with all manner of dangerous creatures. But, did you know? He was uneasy around parrots. Parrots!"
“How is that you claim to hate the man so much, yet you know all sorts of useless trivia about him?” Remus asked, his eyes dancing with laughter.
Lucius cut his icy grey eyes over to where Remus sat and replied with, “Know thine enemy. Didn’t they teach you Gryffindor lot anything at Hogwarts or were you too busy pissing upside the Herbology sheds?”
He ended his statement with another sniff as Hermione quickly secured the ends of the French braid she'd completed during his self-righteous spiel with a bright yellow ribbon the color of highlighter ink.
"Perfect," she whispered with a smile as she shared a conspiratorial glance with Severus and Draco.
Lucius's jovial mood returned once more and he stood quickly, saying, "I have an announcement! In celebration of this wonderful event, I am taking you all out tonight for dinner and drinks. Lots of drinks."
"Even Ronda?" Draco asked with a quirked brow.
"Yes," Lucius conceded with a slight grimace. "Even that moron."
Remus began trying to rouse Sirius from where he seemed to be trying to take up permanent roost in the squishy couch cushions. With the vodka now back in his loving possession he was even more reluctant to acquiesce than he would’ve been otherwise. Remus scowled down at his lover who was smiling winningly up at him as the others began to stand.
Harry almost made it before toppling back over onto Draco. He tried again, paying no attention to the youngest Malfoy's irate grumblings and succeeded that time.
Lucius watched them all with a look of puzzlement on his face. "Where are you all off to?"
"We're going to prepare to leave for this evenings dubious ‘festivities’," Severus informed him, wondering if he was going prematurely senile.
"We won't be going anywhere just yet," Lucius said with a sniff. "Corwin isn't over."
Authors: lucilla_darkate & judas_denied
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rated: R (NC17 later)
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Snape/Hermione/Lucius, Pansy/Luna, Sirius/everyone, erm... too many pairings to list, really.
Warnings: Crack, slash, femme slash, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, abusive relationships, dub-con (eventually), Sirius being alive without any real attempt at explaining why, irreverence on a mass scale, political incorrectness (also on a mass scale)//Will Xpost it later.
Summary: Magical war veterans spend their days (and nights) getting drunk, stoned, shagging the bejesus out of each other, and watching TiVo. Oh, and Draco passes around relationship advice and prefers Oprah to Jeff Corwin. Lucius fights a losing battle with the 'wand with buttons' to watch the Weather Channel and Animal Planet. Hermione is currently tied with Sirius as queen slut of Malfoy Manor, but he's gaining a significant lead. Remus really isn't as calm about the whole thing as everyone seems to think. And Ronda and Vicky really aren't gay. They just like each other a lot.
Hermione watched the crowded ballroom with her keen eyes and her lips quirked a small smile at the activity around her. So many had shown up for the unveiling of the Fallen Wizard's memorial that she could hardly believe it. Her eyes wandered the room to where Draco stood, hugging his now-single mother enthusiastically. His pale hair was glossy under the lights from the chandeliers and his pin-stripe grey suit looked stunning on his lean frame. She allowed her gaze to shift to the far corner of the room where Ron sat at a table, nursing a whiskey sour and having what appeared to be a very amicable conversation with a magically altered potted palm. Hermione frowned a bit as she realized he had not bothered to change out of the clothes he'd worn all day (and the day before, for that matter). Viktor Krum sat beside him, looking as stern and foreboding as ever. Once in awhile, his eyes would shift to Ron and the hard gleam in them would soften almost imperceptibly.
"That's a closet case couple if ever there was one," spoke a smooth voice from behind her.
With a slight start, Hermione tilted her head back to see Draco smirking in the direction she had been looking. She laughed and nodded her head in agreement. "When did you make it back over this way? I thought you were working the crowd."
"Honey, even greatness needs to take a break. I've shaken so many hands I just know I will have calluses, perhaps even blisters. Ew!" Draco made a disgusted face and sat down to her far left, by his father who looked bored by everything. It was only a moment before he professed said boredom.
"These things are just awful," Lucius groused from his seat beside Hermione. "Why must they glorify something that was far from glorious? It was war and these peons see fit to celebrate it? I despise this and furthermore, if one more simpering lunatic harasses me, I shall hex them. Mark my words."
"Perhaps they wouldn't notice you so, had you chosen a less conspicuous drink," said a sneering voice directly from Hermione's right.
"Shut up, Severus. I’ll have you know there is nothing wrong with my choice of beverage. It has a very high alcohol content," Lucius sniffed before looking down at his fizzing, electric blue cocktail and taking a sip from the long straw.
"As does single malt Scotch, you fruit. That abomination you are drinking even has one of those dreadful umbrella things in it," Snape pointed out with a flick of his pale hand at the drink.
"If you two don't stop this right now, I know two wizards who are going to be very lonely tonight," Hermione said sternly, glaring between them.
Lucius and Snape complied, albeit reluctantly and spent the next ten minutes giving each other dirty looks.
There was a lull in conversation then and Hermione allowed her eyes to once more scan the room. She looked on with great interest as the twins waylaid a very startled Remus Lupin on his way back to their shared table from the snack bar. Hermione guessed from the look of utter entrapment and amused annoyance on his face that they were once more trying to con him into a threesome behind Sirius's back. They should've known by then that it would never happen since werewolves and wolves were very much alike when it came to their loyalty to their mates. Had they approached Sirius instead, Hermione wasn't so sure how he'd have reacted.
Lastly, her eyes settled on the open bar and drifted over to a suspiciously dark corner. It had darkening charm written all over it. But there was just enough light that she could make out Harry's silhouette, seated on a stool nursing his usual vodka on the rocks. Though she couldn't see it, she knew very well that both the drink and his seemingly permanent scowl were firmly affixed to his hand and his face. The only time he really ever smiled or laughed was with Draco and even that was rare. He'd started to become sullen and withdrawn near the end of the war and had not improved one bit since.
Tonight, it was even worse. He'd came to honor the dead, but having to give a speech was not on his list of top priorities and he'd gone rigid with rage when he had been allowed to see the humongous marble sculpture that was to be erected in the entrance hall of the Ministry. The names of the deceased were all listed on the base of the statue, but the figures on top of it were of none other than Harry standing over the corpse of Voldemort, wand raised in victory.
"It didn't happen that way," he'd snarled as he walked away and made a beeline to the bar where he'd sat for the rest of the night. Draco had tried to talk to him and been dismissed out of hand. Harry was beyond comfort.
She was drawn out of her reveries when she heard a female voice calling for everyone's attention. Hermione and the rest of the crowd, aside from Ron who was still in deep conversation with the plant, turned their eyes to the front of the large room.
Minerva McGonagall waited until all conversation had ceased before beginning to speak. "I'd like to thank you all for coming to this anniversary and memorial event. We all lost so many, and so much, yet together we have triumphed. It is for that reason that we have gathered here today to celebrate our fallen comrades and honor their memory . . .”
Hermione's focus on her former professor waned as she heard whispers from a neighboring table and looked to see two older, snooty looking witches talking behind their hands and casting pointed looks at her. Heaving a sigh, Hermione grasped her gin and tonic, taking a swallow as she thought, Now here's the part where they start saying 'Oh what a shame about her, such a smart girl she was. And she had so much potential! Yet, she wastes it all on a house full of war veterans - yes, I know the girl fought as well, but she could've done such great things - and suspected Death Eaters. Sure, they say they were spies for the Order, but who really knows? Not to mention, have you heard about her, the elder Malfoy and that dreadful Potions Master?'
She raised her drink to the two gossips and offered them a raised eyebrow with an arch smile to match as she laid a hand on Severus's shoulder and squeezed. He absently patted her hand as she held their stunned gazes, her smile widening as she set her drink down and stroked Lucius's long hair. He caught on and snickered before leaning close to her, whispering, "Now, now, pet . . . mustn't scare the locals."
"Would you all please be quiet!" Draco exclaimed irritably. "It's time for Harry's speech. None of you pay attention to anything other than your hormones."
He sat back in his chair with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Harry's arse as he made his way to the stage. Draco's eyes clouded with barely contained alarm when he saw the way Harry swayed a bit as he climbed up on the dais that stood in front of the memorial that had been unveiled during McGonagall's speech.
It was to be moved to the Ministry's entry hall on Monday.
Harry stood, surveying the crowd as one hand fingered the rim of his vodka glass with nervous agitation. All eyes were fixed on him. The real him, and the joke in stone behind him. His viridian eyes narrowed as he was consumed by rage that licked its way through him like a flood of lava. Flicking his tongue over his lips to moisten them, he finished his drink in one draught. As he lowered his head, he fixed his enraged glare on the crowd and through clenched teeth spat, "I want to piss on you all!"
Draco's shocked squawk was the only sound in the room. The rest of the crowd sat in stunned silence. Harry spun on his heel and hurled the crystal glass at the statue. It broke across the center of his face, raining needle sharp shards of glass down on him, piercing his arms and left cheek. Without another word, he stormed from the dais and through the now murmuring crowd that was growing louder with each passing second. He paused only long enough by the table where most of 'his' group was seated and spoke to Draco and Hermione, "Get Ron, Viktor and whatever other strays there are and come on. We're going home."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco was monumentally pissed off, but he managed to control his temper until they were back at the manor. However, the moment the heavy oak doors closed, he gave it free reign.
“You incomparable bastard,” he snarled at Harry.
Harry lifted a brow at him and said nothing.
“Well?” Draco said. “Say something!”
“I’m going to bed,” Harry said, and walked past him.
Draco watched him with his eyes narrowed to bright silver slits. “Do you have any idea at all the kind of planning and organization it took to pull that party off with anything resembling style?”
“That would be your particular area of expertise, not mine,” Harry said, pausing with a hand on the banister and a foot on the bottom landing.
“Months,” Draco snapped. “There were caterers and flower shops to negotiate with, invitations to have made, then sent, there was the cake-which was a major pain in the ass, I don’t mind telling you-the decorations and the decorators, not to mention the monument itself-”
“Please, don’t mention it,” Harry said dryly.
Draco stopped talking and went very still. “It wouldn’t have mattered. You still would have hated it.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Hermione sighed. “Will you two please stop it? Do you even know what you’re fighting about?”
“Has that ever stopped us before?” Harry asked, sounding tired.
“I know precisely what we’re fighting about, and so do you, you insensitive asshole!” Draco picked up the nearest solid object that was not attached to the wall or the floor-a Ming vase-and hurled it. The vase exploded into thousands of tiny little shards on the floor by Harry’s feet.
Ron and Viktor, wisely, took this opportune moment to disappear. Hermione crossed her arms over her breasts and glared between Harry’s cold, impassive face and Draco’s frankly enraged one, but said nothing. Lucius and Severus meanwhile, appeared to be vastly entertained by the whole thing.
“I’m going to go have another drink, then a shower because this entire affair-hell, this entire day-has made me feel filthy, then I’m going to bed,” Harry said calmly. “When you calm down, you’re welcome to join me.”
Draco laughed. “Am I really? In my own house, imagine that.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “No, I don’t fucking think so. You can spend the night alone.”
Harry shrugged and began making his way up the stairs. “Suit yourself.”
“Oh, believe me, I will,” Draco said. He gave Harry a meaningful look under lifted brows. “And at least for tonight, so will you.”
Draco turned and walked away. Harry glared after him for a second before disappearing up the stairs. A few moments later, the bedroom door slammed.
“Well, that was certainly entertaining,” Lucius said.
“I thought so,” Severus said.
Hermione grumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like fucking divas.
“Willy!”
Hermione’s head came around and she glared wrathfully in the direction of that voice. “Draco Malfoy, don’t you dare take your sorry fucking temper out on that poor creature!”
“Hermione Granger, don’t you think for one bloody second that just because you’re fucking my dear old daddy you can give me orders!” Draco shouted right back. “Willy! Get your scraggly little ass in here right now and clean this up!”
Hermione gave Lucius a meaningful look. A look which plainly said, you do something about this right now or I will.
Lucius smiled enigmatically. “Don’t let me stop you, pet. You’re doing a splendid job.”
“Careful, Lucius,” Hermione said quietly, “or you’ll be diddling yourself tonight too.”
Lucius grinned unrepentantly at her and slung an arm around Severus’ shoulders. “Maybe…and maybe not.”
“Willy! Don’t make me come get you or you’ll be spending the night locked in the broom cupboard making nice with the cutlery!”
“For the love of god,” Hermione groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Somebody go turn on the telly and put on Oprah before he kills another house elf.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A door slammed and Hermione groaned, rolled over, and promptly shoved Lucius off the couch onto the floor.
Lucius sat up, still half asleep, and looked around blearily.
“I told you, I didn’t actually do anything, Remus,” Sirius said. His voice was suspiciously slurred, event through all of that whining. “I just watched is all.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Sirius,” Remus said, sounding positively cheerful for…Lucius turned his head and narrowed his eyes at the clock on the lamp table…one o’clock in the afternoon.
“It is not shit-”
“It is.”
“Would I shit you, Remus?”
“You most certainly would,” Remus said.
Remus had hold of Sirius by the back of his wrinkled collar and was dragging him through the doorway. Something that under any other circumstances would have warmed Lucius's heart to see, but bloody hell, he’d been sleeping. Couldn’t they have their rows at a decent fucking hour?
“I swear to God, I didn’t-”
“You don’t believe in God, Sirius,” Remus said patiently.
“But, Remus-”
“Save it,” Remus said. “I can smell Weasley all over you, and you don’t get that from just watching.”
“Would you two please shut the fuck up!” Hermione snarled, her voice muffled half by the couch cushion and half by Severus's arm, which was flung over her shoulders with the hand pressing against her face.
Severus grumbled and shifted against her back, nuzzling her hair.
Sirius jerked out of Remus's grasp and headed for the kitchen in search of something for his massive hangover. He almost ran right into Draco, who was carrying a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies.
“Good morning, Sirius,” he said in a much-too-cheerful voice, holding out the plate for him. “Want a chocolate chip cookie?”
Sirius made a face and eased by him. “No, I do not want a fucking cookie,” he snapped. “I want an aspirin. Possibly a whole bottle of aspirin.”
“Sirius has a hangover,” Remus informed them all. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked disapproving. “Serves you right for following your baser bitch instincts and chasing after Weasleys.”
Sirius muttered under his breath, swiped his long black hair out of his face, and began rummaging through the cupboards for pain pills.
Draco set the plate of cookies down on the coffee table by his father and went back into the kitchen to make Sirius a bloody Mary.
Lucius grinned after him, took a cookie from the plate, and bit into it.
Remus looked at Lucius sitting on the floor in nothing but his pajama pants, happily munching on a cookie and jerked his head in Draco’s direction. “Fight?”
“Of course,” Lucius said, brushing crumbs from his fingertips and debating over another cookie. “Isn’t it always?”
Remus lifted a brow. “Is he okay?” he asked, meaning Draco.
“He’s fine,” Lucius said. “Sent Potter to bed alone and stayed up all night playing reruns of Dr. Phil and All My Children, driving us all nuts with trivia about some stupid American socialite named Paris something-or-other.”
“Hilton,” Remus supplied automatically.
Lucius waved that away and decided on another cookie. “Whatever.”
There was a loud crashing commotion from the kitchen and they all looked up, even Hermione and Severus.
Severus swiped his hair out of his eyes and sat up. Hermione cursed colorfully and got to her feet. Her shirt had hiked up in the night, probably with a lot of help from Lucius and Severus, and she jerked it down before angrily crossing the room to the kitchen.
“What the bloody fucking hell is going on in here?” she demanded. “In case it has somehow escaped your notice, some people-namely me-are trying to fucking well sleep in here!”
“And a good morning to you too, Granger,” Sirius said. “Want a darvocet? You look like you could use one…or two.”
“No, I do not want a darvocet,” Hermione snarled. She smacked the proffered pills out of his hand and glared at him. She had to tilt her head back to do it because he was more than a foot taller than her, but it didn’t make her any less intimidating.
Draco finished mixing the drink for Sirius, plopped a stick of celery into it, and wordlessly handed it to him before checking on his cookies to make sure they hadn’t burned.
Sirius looked at Draco bent over the oven, then back at the drink. He took a long swallow of the spicy tomato liquid, then tossed back three of the pain pills and downed them with the rest of it.
“You stay out all night long,” Hermione began, warming up to a full out mommy-lecture, “and from what I heard, alone-”
“Must have missed that part about the Weasley’s then,” Sirius said.
“Without Remus, then” Hermione snapped. “The point is, none of us knew where you were. And-”
Sirius gave her a pointed look, raking his eyes over her chest in a way that, despite the modest cut of her top, made her feel just about naked. “In case you haven’t noticed, Granger, I’m a grown up. I can handle myself.”
Hermione did not blush. She had long become accustomed to Sirius's defense mechanisms and they did not faze her. Besides, they all knew that he preferred boys. “Oh yes, and you appear to be taking care of yourself just fine right now,” she said sarcastically.
Sirius shrugged. The woman was going to bitch at him no matter what, she had made her mind up about that already, the only thing for it was to sit back and take it. He just wished she’d hurry it along. He needed to take a shower.
“You have got the attention span of a toddler on crack and the sexual decorum of a hound on the rut,” Hermione said.
“Now let’s not get personal, Granger,” Sirius said. “Wouldn’t want me to drag out all of your past conquests for the world to see, would you? I think you might be nearly tied with me in that area.”
Hermione glared at him and thought about smacking his face. The only reason why she didn’t was because Sirius was one of very few men of her acquaintance who would have smacked her back and felt well justified in doing so.
“Maybe we’ll have to start tying you to Remus’s bed,” Hermione retorted. “How would you like that?”
Remus was coming into the kitchen when she said this and paused in the doorway.
Sirius looked at him, then at her, and grinned. He swiped a cookie off the tray that Draco had just removed from the oven and was setting on the counter, took a bite, and said, “Could be fun.”
Remus and Draco choked on a laugh. Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, but Sirius winked at Remus and went to take his shower, a suggestive sway to his hips as he went.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was after three p.m. when Harry came downstairs. The rest of the group had long since retired to the massive den to watch their afternoon tv programs. Lucius was currently embroiled in a bitter debate with Draco over whether or not it was his day to watch Animal Planet and TiVo Draco's soaps, or if it was the other way. The older man was livid by the time Harry blundered into the room, drink in hand and already well tipsy.
"Just let him watch the goddamned show, Draco, before he blows a vein," Harry said as he plopped down on the large leather sofa between Draco and Sirius, the latter of which tipped his fourth Bloody Mary at his godson, sloshing it on his sleeve and the sofa itself.
"That's a waste of fine spirits, there," Sirius groused slurrily as he rolled his head to the side and blinked stupidly at it.
"It would appear that alcoholism runs in adoptive types of families as well," said Snape from his position in a wingback chair that looked dreadfully uncomfortable, the sleeve of his robe artfully covering his own glass of port from view.
Harry looked pissed, Sirius giggled and Lucius crowed in triumph as he wrested the remote away from Draco's tenacious grip and fled to the far side of the room where Hermione sat with Ron and Viktor. Ron murmured softly to his prized begonia and stroked its soft green leaves. Lucius curled his lip and fought the urge to fling the household idiot's damned plant across the room, just in hopes that he would cry. Locking his will against such a petty act, he presented the remote to Hermione and told her, "Corwin's on today. Quickly now, change to the program for me."
"Lucius, you really need to learn how to operate this equipment your own fucking self. Also, do stop referring the universal remote as 'the wand with buttons' you sound like a bleeding feeble minded village idiot," she said even as she took the remote and changed the channel to the program he wanted to see.
"No pet, I believe Weasley there has already filled the position of village idiot," Lucius drawled.
"Hey!" Ron snapped out, blue eyes sparking with irritation as he glared up at the Malfoy that was currently smirking at him, looking very pleased with himself. "I'm not an idiot, Malfoy!"
"You talk to a plant. You're an idiot. Now shut up and let me watch my program in relative peace."
"Lucius Malfoy, do not talk to Ronald like that within earshot of me ever again," Hermione growled. "He can't help if he's a bit dim."
Ron's mouth fell open in shock at her last statement. "Damnit, 'Mione, that's not fair. You're upsetting Gilbert, too."
"Gilbert?" Draco raised his eyebrows.
Ron gestured angrily with his begonia. "Yes, Gilbert! My friendly little friend."
"Dear gods," Lucius snapped. "I am trying to listen to my program. He's looking for the elusive black mamba. Have you no consideration for a man's viewing needs? I swear, next commercial, I am having a drink. Oh . . . would you look at that, Black has passed out cold. At least he made it past noon today. Delightful."
Indeed, Sirius was slumped forward in his seat, a string of Bloody Mary stained drool hanging from his lip.
"He makes it far longer than that, Lucius and you know it," Ron said, rising to the aid and threatened pride of a defenseless fellow former Gryffindor.
"It is no use talking to these angry people, Ronald. Come, let us go explore the gardens. The irises are blooming this time of year," spoke Viktor Krum from his spot beside the livid, red faced Weasley.
Snickers resounded in the room. "Sure, Vicky, you two are going to look at irises in the gardens. And will you be planting any of your own seed in dear old Ronda?"
"You are shutting your mouth now, Draco Malfoy. We are not homosexuals. We are fine men, fit for breeding with women, not each other," Viktor said in his thick accent.
"You just keep telling yourselves that," Harry piped up, as the pair made their way from the room in a collectively self righteous huff.
"Finally! Yes, get the idiot out of here!" Lucius snapped, pulling a snorting laugh from Snape who by that time was only pretending to read his book, more interested in casting surreptitious glances at the tops of Hermione's breasts which were spilling out of her low-cut top as she desperately tried to soothe the irate elder Malfoy by combing her fingers through his long, thick hair. His lips quirked up further as he saw her dart a quick look to make sure Lucius was once more ensconced in his show before she started separating the soft locks into three pieces.
She's really going to do it this time, Snape thought with unholy glee. Lucius Malfoy with plaited hair would be a sight to see and Hermione was a smart girl - she knew when he was too distracted to notice what was about to become of his much touted and preened over hair. He recalled with a slight grimace the time she had done similar to him while he slept off a two-bottle night. Much to his chagrin he had awoken with two jaunty pigtails the next morning that no one bothered to point out to him until some time much later in the day. He'd been furious with her, but she'd made up for it with her talented mouth in an upstairs broom closet.
Halfway through the Corwin Experience, Lucius's gleaming hair was partly braided and looking very feminine in its French plait. The man was so lost in his program, his threat from earlier about getting a drink had been forgotten. Draco looked at his father with a wry smile, recalling his initial reaction to having Muggle technology in his home. It certainly had not been pretty to have Lucius Malfoy arrive home from abroad to find a television set in one of his favorite parlors in the entire manor, not to mention outlets - outlets! To say he had given Draco the silent treatment after his initial tirade was the least of his worries at the time.
Eventually, his natural curiosity had gotten the better of him and Draco had overheard him asking Hermione one night how they got 'the little people in the box'. She had, at the time, gone to fetch Draco who'd attempted to look casual when she opened the door and found him eavesdropping. A harsh throat clearing and a pointed look told him he was fooling no one and his father looked completely bumfuzzled when she nodded at Draco and said, "I think he's ready now."
They had first introduced Lucius to the blender, which had proven to be a loud, messy experience when he, not only left the lid off of the device, but the spoon he'd insisted on stirring his rum-laced chocolate shake with. Draco had grimaced at the proposal of sweets that late, but his father had snarled with indignation and said something about how it was necessary to be decadent in life and that Draco was, essentially, not the parent there.
Draco was snapped out of his thoughts by the low murmur of Harry's voice saying, "Accio Smirnoff."
Draco gritted his teeth and prepared to duck.
Which thankfully proved to be unnecessary, though not because Harry’s aim was worth a damn. Still half asleep, Sirius lazily reached out and snatched the bottle from the air about five inches from the end of Draco’s nose. Sirius uncapped the bottle and took a long swig before tossing it to Harry. Though he was quite a bit drunker than Harry, his aim was considerably better and it landed in Harry’s lap.
“Thanks,” Draco said to Sirius.
Sirius winked at him and promptly passed out again.
Draco turned and glared at Harry who returned the glare with a serene smile.
“If it hadn’t have been for your godfather, Harry, I’d have a split skull now thanks to your shitty aim, so don’t you dare smile at me,” Draco spat out.
“Shut up, Draco,” Harry said in a clipped, low tone, the corners of his smile pulling tight and his eyes taking on a hard glint.
“Fuck you, Harry, it’s not even four yet and you’re almost as drunk as Sirius is, but not nearly as entertaining.”
“I said, shut up, Draco,” Harry replied once more, all smile gone, the expression replaced with a hard look to match the warning tone in his voice.
“Or what?” Draco asked, snapping his head around to look at Harry again. “Fucking lush.” He finished with a hiss as he turned his head back to the television program.
“Or I’ll make you,” Harry said, his voice eerily calm as he leaned over to whisper in his ear. He grabbed Draco’s wrist in a vice-like grip, grinding the bones together painfully as he spoke.
“Harry, let go. Please?” Draco asked softly, going rigid beside him as he darted an anxious look over to his father on the other side of the room, relieved to see he was still engrossed in his program. A soft laugh from Harry was his only response.
From beside them a sharp pair of ears perked up and Sirius’s eyes blinked open. He lifted heavy lidded eyes to look at Remus who was intently watching the pair. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at him but he only frowned a bit, shaking his head, seemingly at a loss.
Sirius decided it was best to diffuse the situation without drawing undue attention to themselves from the others in the room. He silently congratulated himself on such a clever plan before clearing his throat and saying, “Harry, if you’re not going to drink that vodka, give it to someone who will. Hmm?”
Harry quickly let go of Draco and turned to Sirius with a brilliant smile. “You saying I can’t drink, Black?”
“I’m saying you may need a few lessons, yeah,” Sirius said with a cheeky smile, holding his hand out for the bottle.
Harry was in the process of passing the bottle to Sirius, pointedly ignoring Draco who was rubbing his wrist and trying not to wince when a female voice cut in on Jeff Corwin’s who was excitedly describing the venomous properties of the pit viper family.
”We now interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you this special news bulletin. Animal Planet has just been informed that our very own Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, has been killed in a swimming accident off the coast of North Queensland during filming.We are all shocked and saddened by this terrible event, and mourn for his family’s loss as well. We spoke to Paul Lewis, President and General Manager of Discovery just a few moments ago over the phone and this is what he had to say, ‘Discovery Channel and Animal Planet first introduced Steve Irwin to Canadians through his popular show Crocodile Hunter. While there have been many imitators since, Steve was a true original and his incredible energy, passion and love for life will remain true fixtures of both networks.’
Of course, he is right. This loss affects us all and once again - we grieve. Discovery Channel and Animal Planet will have more news as it is forthcoming. We now return you to your program already in progress.”
The den was silent for a moment until an incredulous snort from Sirius sounded.
“What the fuck does Canada have to do with anything?” He asked the room with another disbelieving snort.
Lucius looked pained for a moment as he stared at the television, longing for his program to be returned, but seeing only commercials in its stead. Then he said, “For once, I have to say - I agree with Black.”
He quieted then, losing himself in thought for a moment before the corners of his mouth began to twitch, his shoulders beginning to shake almost imperceptibly. Hermione frowned down at him, his hair still trailing from her fingers. She shook her head a bit and went back to braiding. Severus also looked up, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval for what he knew was coming. Draco only smirked, some of his own humor beginning to return. The whole room waited in the pregnant silence that had once more fallen on the room.
And finally it happened:
Lucius cried out ecstatically, nearly yanking out the hair that was still dangling from Hermione's hands.
"Lucius! Someone's death is not something to be happy about," Hermione admonished sternly.
"Pish, that man was a scourge on my existence. Crikey indeed!" Lucius said mockingly before turning grave. "BUT . . . the fact that they interrupted my program for that bit of drivel was unseemly. The man taunts me even from the grave. Anyway, it was to be expected. The man cavorted with all manner of dangerous creatures. But, did you know? He was uneasy around parrots. Parrots!"
“How is that you claim to hate the man so much, yet you know all sorts of useless trivia about him?” Remus asked, his eyes dancing with laughter.
Lucius cut his icy grey eyes over to where Remus sat and replied with, “Know thine enemy. Didn’t they teach you Gryffindor lot anything at Hogwarts or were you too busy pissing upside the Herbology sheds?”
He ended his statement with another sniff as Hermione quickly secured the ends of the French braid she'd completed during his self-righteous spiel with a bright yellow ribbon the color of highlighter ink.
"Perfect," she whispered with a smile as she shared a conspiratorial glance with Severus and Draco.
Lucius's jovial mood returned once more and he stood quickly, saying, "I have an announcement! In celebration of this wonderful event, I am taking you all out tonight for dinner and drinks. Lots of drinks."
"Even Ronda?" Draco asked with a quirked brow.
"Yes," Lucius conceded with a slight grimace. "Even that moron."
Remus began trying to rouse Sirius from where he seemed to be trying to take up permanent roost in the squishy couch cushions. With the vodka now back in his loving possession he was even more reluctant to acquiesce than he would’ve been otherwise. Remus scowled down at his lover who was smiling winningly up at him as the others began to stand.
Harry almost made it before toppling back over onto Draco. He tried again, paying no attention to the youngest Malfoy's irate grumblings and succeeded that time.
Lucius watched them all with a look of puzzlement on his face. "Where are you all off to?"
"We're going to prepare to leave for this evenings dubious ‘festivities’," Severus informed him, wondering if he was going prematurely senile.
"We won't be going anywhere just yet," Lucius said with a sniff. "Corwin isn't over."