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Author's Notes: Here's the second part of ch7, or 8th chapter, if you prefer to call it that. I don't really like how this came out, but hopefully it will be ok. Sorry for the wait, I had midterms, which took up a good portion of my time, and a whole mess of other things… I think I'll try to be more consistent though, and update once a month, instead of having you wait in uncertainty.
Warning: More OOC, language, fluff. Smut to come!
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
"I was with Pans, Harry. Dude, you should have been there, it was fucking hilarious. We scared the shit out of Draco, didn't we, Pans?" Harry mouthed "Pans?" to Karston, who winked back in response. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Oh yes, it was quite good. I wish we had a camera to photograph it. As the Weasel would say, it was 'Bloody Brilliant.'" Pansy reached from behind Harry and took his scone. "Thanks, love."
At that moment, Lucas came charging into the kitchen. "PANSY! You're here for breakfast! You said you were leaving, but you didn't but that's ok too; did I tell you I'm engaged?" Lucas asked, in one breath.
"Why yes, dear, I believe you have. But Karston here, I bet he'd love to hear about your engagement," Pansy replied, handing off the scone to Karston.
Lucas looked Karston up and down. "Very well, come with me," he said, with a tone that was eerily like his father's. "You'll want to get comfortable," Lucas chattered on, as he dragged a helpless Karston out of the room.
Pansy sat down adjacent to Harry, and grabbed an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table. "So Karston tells me you two know each other…quite well, if you know what I mean." Pansy winked, taking a bite.
Harry blanched, "We studied together. He was my roommate, if that 's what you mean." He took another scone, buttered it, and took a bite, in an attempt to hide the fear in his voice.
Pansy swallowed and leaned in closer to Harry, "What I mean is that you two used to f-u-c-k," She whispered, putting a pause between each letter..
"He told you what?" Harry tried to keep his voice down, but his response came out strangled, as he choked on a bit of scone.
"Oh, don't worry, Harry darling. Your secret is safe with me. I'm very good at keeping secrets. Just ask Draco."
"Ask me what?" Draco asked, descending the stairs that led directly from the second floor, to the kitchen.
"About how good at keeping secrets I am."
"Oh please, Pansy. Name one secret that you've held."
"But then I would be telling wouldn't I?" she asked, obviously pleased with herself. Draco was about to reply, but gave up, and sat down at the table in defeat.
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"And so, Molly and I were having tea, and she said 'You're nice, we should be friends.' And then I said, 'you're really nice too. And you're pretty.' And then she said 'You have very handsome features; I fancy your green eyes. Lets get married,' and then I said 'ok.'" Lucas finished, and then let out a breath. He looked rather pleased with himself.
"Wow, I wish my dates turned out that well," Karston said, leaning back on the sofa. He paused a moment before he spoke, "Lucas, do you have a mommy?"
"If you mean a mummy, then no." Lucas replied, nonchalantly.
"Really? Do you ever wonder why?"
"Not really. I did ask Daddy once, and he wouldn't say anything, so then I asked Gran, and she said 'magic.' Special magic." Lucas smirked.
"I think I know what she's talking about."
"Want to go get some breakfast, and then play a game?" Lucas's attention span was growing shorter by the second, and was looking for something else to do.
"I could manage that," Karston smiled, as he took the small boy's hand in his own, and walked to the kitchen.
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Draco was getting fed up with Pansy. She was saying too many suggestive things, and dropping too many hints, in his opinion. Things like how she'd rather "Save a broomstick, and ride a Quidditch player," more specifically, a "certain male keeper named Oliver Wood," as she glanced in Draco's direction. These comments certainly didn't ease the awkward tension around the breakfast table. She was just getting around to asking which food everyone preferred, when Lucas walked in, with Karston in tow.
"America is close to Mexico, isn't it Karston? And Salem is in America, so you must have had tacos before. I myself, have not. But since you have the experience, can you tell me if you prefer sausages to tacos?" Pansy winked.
Not missing a beat, Karston replied, "I like both. But as of late, tacos have been my first choice. If I'm given the option, that is."
"I like sausages. I don't know what tacos are though," Lucas said, screwing up his face in concentration. "Are tacos good?" Pansy nearly spat out her tea, and Harry was pounding himself on the chest, as he choked on his scone again. "Do you like tacos Daddy?"
Draco took an unusually long drink from his Earl Grey, not sure how to answer the question and keep his dignity intact at the same time. Pansy was giving Harry a strange look, and almost motioning with her head, in Draco's direction. He could only begin to imagine what that meant.
Lucas was sick of waiting for an answer, and broke the silence, "I want waffles. I'm hungry." Draco nodded his head, and told Lucas to go tell the house elves. On his way out, Lucas asked, "Can Karston play with me, before he has to work?"
"I don't know, you'll have to ask," he replied as he motioned to Harry.
Lucas cleared his throat, and in his most polite voice, asked, "Mr. Potter, would you allow Karston to play a game with me before he has to work?"
"That depends, what kind of game were you thinking? It's pretty cold outside, and there's snow on the ground. I can't have my team get sick, of course." Harry answered, mock-seriously.
Before Lucas could answer, Karston replied, "We were thinking football, the real kind. In fact, I think it's time you Brits got a taste of American culture. We have three hours before anyone gets here, so that's plenty of time to learn and play. And it can be played in the snow, we'll just dress warmly," Karston added excitedly, before Harry could object.
"Ugh, you mean that muggle sort where you only use your feet to kick a ball around a field?" Draco said this as if he had just witnessed his mother kiss Professor Snape.
"Nah, that's your football. I'm talking about American football. The sport that separates the boys from the men." Karston flexed his bicep as he said this, and Pansy giggled. Karston could be so immature, Harry thought to himself.
"Brilliant idea, Karston, we'd love to!" replied Pansy.
"Sweet. I'll meet everyone outside. Go out, and find an open spot, one that doesn't have too many bushes around. Harry, when you get out there, start melting a patch of snow."
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With the exception of Draco, everyone was able to catch on to the concept of American football. Even Lucas could understand it better than his father. When they tried to play a small game, Draco kept calling time outs, to ask questions.
"Wait, how do I know when a quarter is up?"
"Merlin, Draco! That's like the fifth time you've asked that!" Pansy said exasperatedly. She was rather miffed; Karston was about to tackle her when Draco called the time out.
"Fine then, Pansy. I'm not going to ask any more questions, because I give up on this barbaric muggle game." Draco stalked off to the nearest stone bench to watch the rest of them play.
"Is he always this moody?" asked Karston.
"He's worse than a bloody girl," Pansy replied.
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Draco watched enviously as everyone continued the game of football without him. How come non-magical sports came so easily to them-to his four-year-old son! - more easily than they came to him? However, as he watched the game, Draco's jealousy ebbed away. Lucas was tackling Pansy fiercely, but he was putting in extra effort when it came to Harry. Karston too, looked like he was enjoying himself, especially when he could tackle Pansy (Or when he made any contact with her, actually), and she definitely didn't mind the attention.
But there was a certain brunette, who captured the blonde's attention. The way Harry's biceps bulged when he was getting ready to throw the ball (Draco could not understand why he would want to play outside, without a cloak in temperatures that were barely above freezing-and in muggle clothes, mind you), the way his jeans kept slipping down when he ran, and the way he looked when Lucas tackled him. Harry would play along and let Lucas think that he was beating him. Lucas would squeal with delight each time Harry fell to the ground, feigning pain ("Oh, you've got me!").
Draco's mind began to wander, as it often did, and he started to think about the secret he was keeping from Harry.
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Along a dark passage way voices could be heard, bouncing off of the cold stone. The sound appeared to be coming from the end of the hallway, which was unlit, making it unnoticeable to the passerby...not that you'd be a passerby if you even made it in to the place where the passage was hidden.
"Do shut up, Martin. You're an insufferable, pig-headed- "
"Be quiet, both of you!" yelled a voice. "We need to go over these plans again. We have half an hour before De Redon has to report to work, which doesn't leave us much time to discuss this." The two men looked like wounded puppies. "Wipe those looks off of your faces. You'd think you two were children, the way you're behaving.
"The plan, as given to us by our master is that you, De Redon, are to pose as the Foreign Auror Bertrand Colville. You will report all findings and details back to myself, and no one else. Is that clear?" Martin De Redon nodded. "Wonderful. Now go take the polyjuice potion so it has time to get into your system before you floo. You needn't attract any unnecessary attention to yourself; we all know how flooing can affect the properties of the polyjuice if taken too early, don't we, Martin?"
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"Bonjour, Monsieur Colville."
"Casse-toi." Go away.
"I was going to, but first, I have to do one thing. Stupefy!" De Redon walked over to the stupefied Auror and knelt down, withdrawing a glass phial from his robes. He cast a quick tondeo spell, which saved him from shaving the prisoner's head the muggle way. He swept the hair into the phial and corked it. "Finite incantatum."
Colville sat up, and felt around his body, checking for any anything that the other wizard might have done to him. When his hand reached his head, Colville glared.
"Now you sit here and have fun!" De Redon said mockingly.
Bertrand Colville reached up to feel his head again, and thought about the numerous ways that he would torture the Neo Death Eaters who had imprisoned him.
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"Are you ready, De Redon? Or should I say 'Colville'?"
"Oui," De Redon smirked.
"Very well. I expect to hear from you tonight."
"Yes, ma'am." De Redon said, stepping into the flames. "Malfoy Manor, via Ministry of Ministry of Magic, London."
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Harry, Karston, and a few others were standing by the fire, in one of the Arrival Rooms in Malfoy Manor. It was similar to a muggle mudroom, but it was the most lavish and ostentatious mudroom that Harry had ever seen. He thought that the Persian carpets were a little much, especially for a room where people would be covered in soot.
The fire (which had been secured by a number of spells and charms) suddenly flared, and out stepped a tall, dark haired man.
"And you are…?" Harry asked, scanning his list.
"Colville. Bertrand Colville."
