Okay, thank you so much for this review, which had been sent in by 'HI,' now I think I know what the problem with my fic is. Thank you so much for the criticism, it helped a lot. As I'd said I needed both a beta reader AND a muse. Anyway, I can't give ALL the information right now, since I can not possibly think it all up in an hour, my given writing time, and it might ruin the plot I have in mind.
And Depressed!Harry was overdone, I suppose, but don't worry, there won't be a Depressed!Harry from here on. He may still act a little bit weird, but hey, wouldn't you if you were told that you had to marry your arch nemesis?
And so now I present to you Chapter 5 and ½, where most of the missing information which I know you would like to know about will be divulged. It'll still be set on Sunday, then Monday, perhaps.
Chapter 5 ½:
Harry had met Narcissa that day, and their conversation had been short, but Narcissa had managed to alienate him anyway. It went as such:
"Good Morning, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry had greeted, but the woman had only nodded curtly, her head still held up high as she walked into the parlor where they were, and took a seat on an armchair.
"Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Potter." Narcissa had said, but still had not looked upon Harry. The woman was looking down at her fingernails, as if disinterested of Harry, and finally looked up to set her eyes on the raven-haired teenager. Her mouth dropped open, to say the least. "Good grief, Potter. Shouldn't you even have at least the tiniest decency to dress up even the smallest bit presentable?"
"I'm sorry; Mrs. Malfoy, but I don't have any 'presentable' clothing." Harry had said in reply, his eyes narrowing slightly. He was getting very annoyed, but he knew that he had to keep his anger in check.
What Harry said had indeed come true, the newspapers had displayed again on the front page the news of Harry's bonding, but the boy was grateful to the Malfoys, for once, since they screened Harry's mail to get rid of the howlers. Harry however, did get letters from the Weasley family, well, Ron, that is. Harry had opened the letter and read it silently,
"Dear Harry, Don't worry, and try to keep away from the Malfoys. Hermione asked me to tell you that she was working on finding a cure, and pestering the teachers about why they made you marry Draco. Oh, and she said that she'll ask the Bloody Baron to force Peeves to tell why he cast a spell on you and ferret face. Take Care, Harry." Was what had been written in it. At least the Malfoys had the decency to not open his mail and read them.
The day passed rather slowly, with Narcissa commenting about how Harry seemed to be like this, and how he seemed to be like that... Naturally Harry was being driven crazy, but for his own sake he kept silent, and kept to himself all the anger he had wanted to let out. There would be other times for that. Narcissa had kept on, mentioning about how he would take Harry and Draco shopping the next day. She had invited Lucius to come along, should he have liked to go with them. Fortunately—for Harry, the elder Malfoy had refused, under the pretense that he had much to do. Of course, they'd figured out that he only did not want to be standing around waiting for Narcissa to decide if she would buy which for Draco. In this case, which, for Harry, also. They had spoken and come to an agreement that they would go and do so—shop—tomorrow, and so it would be Monday when they would go to Regal Alley to shop for Harry and Draco.
"Okay, I'm sorry to say this, Malfoy, but your mother—she's... I don't know, I've no word to describe her." Harry commented, pacing the room, his hand resting on his forehead, the other on his waist. He was walking about the room he and Draco were to share, for the time being, that is, for Lucius had arranged for them to have a bigger room in the manor once they are married.
"I know, I know. Many of my friends say the same thing about my mother, now will you please stop repeating it? I've heard that same phrase dozens of times. There is nothing that I can, or will ever be able to do to change her. It has to be you who to adjust to her. She'll warm up to you once she gets used to you." Draco replied, watching Harry walk about, seated comfortably on their king-sized bed.
"And when will that be, ten years from now? Hello, Malfoy. Think! You and I have been sharing quarters—with different rooms, mind you—but I don't recall you ever warming up to me! What makes you think it'll be different with your mother? She's even haughtier than you!" Harry replied, sighing and taking a seat on the four poster bed, although a distance from Draco.
Draco only shook his head and sighed, getting up. "You know, you better start accepting the fact that we are in a situation that we can possibly not be able to get out of," Draco mentioned, seeming to sound nonchalant, although he too was having trouble admitting to himself the situation he was in.
"Easy for you to say," Harry replied, looking out the glass double doors, leading to a semi-circular balcony. It was only then that he had realized just how amazing and breath-taking the manor and its grounds really was, and only then also, that he had noticed how beautiful his and Draco's room was.
The room was rectangular, and along the length of it ran a plush area rug, of off-white. The floor itself was of stone. On the said carpet was embroidered several patterns, and words—in different languages that Harry presumed ancient, languages that have been long dead. Along the left wall were many portraits, and two wooden doors, the knobs of intricately carved silver. One door leading to the walk-in wardrobe and interconnected bathroom, and the other leading to the study. The bed was in the middle, leaning against a wall, and beside it were two end-tables. Atop the end-tables were candleholders, long tapered beeswax candles held in them, to light up the room at night. The bed itself was a marvel, four-poster and king-sized, the sheets and curtains in inviting black silk, embroidered on them green and silver snakes, in patterns on the hems. Underneath the wooden bed lay an area rug, in a hue that matched that of the silk on the bed. Above the bed, hanging on the ceiling, was a mirror, the same size as the bed, perhaps for Draco to look at himself idly, for when he was on the bed. (A/N: And other purposes too. Winks) On the wall opposite the wall the bed was leaning against was embedded a four-feet tall, four-and-a-half feet wide fireplace, and atop it was a portrait of Draco. Facing it was a black circular leather couch, and in front of the couch was a glass coffee table. Flanking the coffee table was a leather armchair, in the same color as the couch. Along the right wall were two wall-to-floor windows, flanking the said glass double doors leading to the balcony. The windows had off-white lace curtains.
The room was ensconced in a yellow-ish glow as the lighted candles and fireplace gave off the said glow, making the ambiance of the room very homey and comfortable.
"You know, I could get used to this room," Harry said off-handedly, before he was able to think. He blinked a few times.
"Did I just say that?" He asked, and Draco plainly nodded in reply, a smirk playing at his lips.
"You will, don't worry," Draco said, standing up and heading to his—and now Harry's—study.
End chapter 5 and ½! As I've said, since this is only a filler, it's shorter than my usual length.
Word count: 1,383
There's a problem with and I can't upload anything, but I will as soon as I can.