Disclaimer: HP is not mine.
A/N: Oh Ma Gawd! I am so sorry. I meant to have this out weeks ago. It really is true what people say about baby's getting more demanding as they get older. Well, here it is. The final chapter. I'm pretty happy with it. I don't think a epilogue is necessary. Let me know if you disagree.
Chapter 23 – Running Back To You
For the tenth time in less than an hour Percy shook his head and forced his eyes back onto the document in front of him. How could he have let himself get into this mess? Three months ago he was happy. Well, content at least. He had his work. He was focused. He knew what he wanted to be and where he wanted to go in life. Now he could barely make it five minutes without his mind wandering, especially to less than appropriate territory considering he was at work.
As he sat at his desk pretending to by immersed in his work, his co-worker, Niles Benton, sat across from him perusing the latest addition of "The Prophet", and rambling on about some utter trash in the society column.
'Doesn't the man have something more productive he could be doing with his time?' Percy bit out sharply to himself.
Instead of railing at the stupid git about the unnecessary propagation of such nonsense, Percy ignored him, opting instead to meander back yet again to that first meeting with her. One particular exchange flashed strongly behind his eyelids.
"How romantically involved are we talking, Ms. Parkinson?"
She graced him with her first smile of the visit, and he felt a small flutter race through his chest.
"Enough so that displays of affection during social occasions and events would be viewed as both appropriate and genuine," she quipped.
'A little too bloody genuine,' he scowled to himself.
Merlin, but he missed her. He was so far gone that he was almost ready to put his ethics aside and agree to her ridiculous proposal. Did he really need to have children if it meant he could be with her? Percy felt his chest tighten to an almost unbearable degree. Of course he did. He wanted children. What Weasley didn't? But he wanted them with her.
Another moment from that same conversation, one that he had hungrily scavenged over in the past, forced its way across the stage of his mind.
Leaning in, she pressed her cheek against his and whispered into his ear. "Fair warning, Mr. Weasley. I will be kissing you at some point this evening."
She pulled back slightly, and brushed the ghost of a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
In hindsight, that was the moment he had lost himself to her. Forget all their schemed up intimate encounters and put on affection for the public. It only took one kiss from her and he was dead gone. He really should have seen it coming, but he had been too much of a myopic fool to admit it. How was he supposed to know what falling in love with someone felt like?
This one question led him down a path toward even more trying questions. If he had known back then how it was all going to play out, would he have still agreed to the scheme? Would he have knowingly set himself up for such pain? To his chagrin, no definitive answer presented itself. As much as Percy was hurting, he was more than certain he wouldn't trade a single moment with her for anything let alone peace of mind.
Suddenly, Percy became acutely aware of a voice coming at him through the fog in his brain. "Isn't that her?"
"Pardon?" he managed, pulling his head up from the document in front of him and his mind away from his ruminations.
"Her." Niles repeated.
"Who?" Percy snapped, still grumpily caught up in his confused daze.
"You know, the bird at the awards gala last month. The one who was eyeing us… well, you rather…up and down? Her name was Pansy Parkinson, right?"
Percy reddened at the other man's bang on assessment. "I… What? Yes. Yes, it was. Is. Why?"
"Well, apparently she split up with her fiancé. Did you know she was engaged?"
Percy just gaped at Niles, giving a very good impression of a fish.
"What?" he finally managed, choking on the word.
"Neither did I. It's all right here and it's the barmiest thing I've ever read."
Trying his damnedest to sound indifferent but failing miserably, Percy stammered.
"What do you mean? What does it say? What happened? In the article I mean."
"Well, apparently this Parkinson bird was all set to marry Draco Malfoy when in waltzed Harry Potter…"
Percy's eyes dropped to the newspaper in the other man's hands and he stared at it, nonplussed, for a good few seconds as the berk continued to ramble. Did he really want to know? Did he really care how she'd gotten out of it? Another more alarming thought ramped itself against his consciousness. Just because she wasn't engaged to that wanker anymore didn't necessarily mean she wanted to be with him now. And what was this about Harry? How the devil was he involved? Did Percy have yet another man he had to fight with for Pansy's attention? There was no way he could ever compete with Harry Potter.
Making a split second decision, Percy greedily snatched the paper out of Niles' hands and splayed it across his desk. There were three photos. The one farthest to the left caught his eye first. There looking back at him with a haughty kind of superiority was the most gorgeous witch he'd ever had the privilege to lay eyes and hands on and he instantly felt the all too familiar coil begin to churn tightly in the pit of his stomach. The only drawback to the photo was that she wasn't smiling, but was instead leering at him with heavy judgment.
The photo next to hers, the one in the middle, caused an altogether different reaction in Percy. A burning jealousy began to boil in his chest at the very sight of the man. He didn't give a rat's arse that Malfoy couldn't care less if they were together. Draco held the right to father her children. For that simple fact, Percy wanted nothing more than to wipe the self-assured smirk clear off the prat's face. And then there was the third photo in the line up. Harry "effing" Potter. Could the man not resist riding in on his white steed and saving the damsel in distress?
With this thought clearly in mind, Percy tore his eyes away from the photos and began to devour the piece.
THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY…
You decide which is which!
By Rita Skeeter
My loyal readers, this devoted journalist does not know where to begin. Just when she thought she had the "Boy Who Lived" pegged. Just when she thought she had him all figured out… But I'm getting ahead of myself. Where to begin? At the beginning.
Twenty years ago, Robert Parkinson and Lucius Malfoy entered into a contract. Or rather they entered into an agreement on their children's behalf. This was no ordinary business deal. No, this was a marriage contract of almost epic proportions. The two most prominent pureblood families in the Magical world were aligning themselves together to form what would be a most formidable match. Now skip to the present day. One of these families no longer resides among the elite. One of these families has experienced devastation and only continues to fall deeper into the shadows of disgrace. Names need not be provided. We all know of whom I speak.
Poor Draco Malfoy's distressing destitution and debilitating deprivation has done nothing to deter the affections of not one… but TWO lovers though! Here is where matters become sordid. Up until a few months ago, it had been common knowledge that Ms. Pansy Parkinson harboured a not so secret love for her reluctant husband to be. This fact, in and of itself, is not shocking. The other pursuer of Mr. Malfoy's heart, however, will have your head spinning. The second ardent lover is none other than… HARRY POTTER!! You read that right gentle reader. Apparently, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have been conducting a torrid love affair for the past year and a half!!
Who knew? It seems Mr. Robert Parkinson may have had an inkling. What other reason would he have had for coming home from business abroad so unexpectedly? Granted, his daughter was just newly engaged, but his impromptu return is highly suspect, especially in light of what came to pass directly after his arrival. What, might you ask, transpired? Only the quiet cancellation of a much anticipated and publicized engagement.
When questioned, Robert Parkinson could only offer the following:
RP: My daughter deserves only the best. And it is my place to provide it for her.
DP: So, it's not true that Mr. Potter offered you a lump sum for Mr. Malfoy's release?
RP: No. Mr. Potter challenged my daughter to a duel. I, being the protective parent that I am, could not abide any harm befalling her, so I called the engagement off.
DP: There were no other reasons for putting an end to this arrangement?
RP: None that I can think of.
DP: Not even Mr. Malfoy's less than stellar performance in the business market and his secret affair with the "Boy-Who-Lived"?
It was at this point that Mr. Parkinson concluded the interview, leaving my question unanswered I might add. My next dialogue occurred with Mr. Malfoy himself.
DP: Mr. Malfoy, were you aware that Harry Potter challenged your fiancée, Pansy Parkinson, to a duel for your hand?
DM: HE DID WHAT?
DP: So you weren't aware?
At this point, I must note that Mr Malfoy simply stared at me dumbly.
DP: Is this just another ploy by Mr. Potter to sully your family name?
DM: I beg your pardon?
DP: Or are there genuine feelings at play here?
DM: I'm sorry. I… I have a pressing matter that requires my attention. Excuse me.
Mr. Malfoy then shut the door, presumably to have words with Mr. Potter. Conveniently, Mr. Potter, himself, was not available for comment. That left only the sole lady involved in this debacle. "The Prophet" caught up with her while she was shopping in Diagon Alley.
DP: Ms. Parkinson, are you disappointed?
DP: You've lost your betrothed to Harry Potter. There must be a part of you that is upset with this unexpected turn of events. Are you still in love with Mr. Malfoy?
PP: Draco is a very old, very dear friend. Our betrothal was arranged when we were children. I wish him nothing but happiness with whomever he chooses to spend his life with.
DP: And what of yourself? Is there a special someone who will ease this hardship for you?
I must note here that I asked this as a leading question. Anyone with eyes will know what, or better yet WHO I mean.
PP: That is entirely none of your business.
Ms. Parkinson paused here, obviously deep in thought.
PP: If there were someone, however, I would tell him not to dawdle at work and be home promptly by six o'clock sharp for dinner.
I will allow you, my observant and watchful readers, to draw your own conclusions, at this juncture, to her meaning. I will say this however… It has been my experience that the Ministry works its employees far too hard… especially the Deputy Minister. By all rights, they should all take the night off and have a nice, quiet evening with the ones they love now and then.
Percy stared mutely at the page, his mind unable to process the enormity of what he'd just read and how it pertained to him. Had it not been for the other occupant of his office clearing his throat, Percy would have remained frozen, staring at the parchment gripped tightly in his fists indefinitely.
Although he snapped his eyes up, pinning the man across from him with a searching gaze, Percy was still incapable of stringing together a coherent thought. He felt dizzy and nauseous, and damn near ready to black out.
A knowing smirk plastered on his face, Niles coughed lightly into his loosely fisted hand. "Isn't that mad? Terrible how "The Prophet" propagates such nonsense, isn't it?"
Percy could only gape at him, thoroughly gobsmacked.
"So, are you planning on working late again?" Niles asked when he realized Percy was paralyzed in wide-eyed bunny mode.
"What?" Percy asked abruptly, the word tripping clumsily out of his mouth.
"Well it's now a quarter to six, and I wasn't sure but…"
Before he could finish, Percy had bolted out of his chair, snatched up his cloak hanging on the coat rack in the corner, and was out the door.
Stunned by the sudden flight, Niles whistled low and mumbled, "Barmy."
He turned back to Percy's desk to retrieve his stolen newspaper when something caught his eye.
Upon realizing what he was looking at, Niles turned quickly to the door and called out. "Percy mate, you forgot your…" but it was too late. His co-worker was nowhere in sight.
Percy barreled down the hallway and headed straight for the stairwell, knowing full well the lifts would be a nightmare at that time of day. He gripped the railing fiercely as he went, and opted to jump the last couple of steps down to each landing as he came to them. This idea nearly cost him a bloody nose and a cracked lip, but Percy gave the possible injuries no more than a passing thought.
Making it to the ground floor, he tried to walk calmly to the fireplaces across the foyer in a bid to maintain some semblance of decorum, but only succeeded in a jostling kind of scamper, looking very much like he needed to use the loo. As he slid to a stop at the cordoned off hearths, he stared in disbelief at the sign that clearly read "Out of service – nightly maintenance".
"Manny," he snapped desperately at the security detail, standing guard at his post, "What is the meaning of this?"
"The floo system, Mr. Weasley?"
Percy could only nod, much like a lost child looking for his mother.
"They're always down on Wednesday evenings for maintenance, sir."
"What do you mean?" Percy panted out, stricken by the thought.
"You always leave well after the crews are done, sir."
Percy goggled at the poor security guard for a few seconds longer before screaming, "Merlin's bloody pants!" and then bolted for the exit.
Slamming out onto the street, Percy glanced down to his wristwatch only to find he had less than ten minutes left before he was late, and he didn't even want to consider the repercussions. Their relationship was on tender hooks as it was. No telling what could happen if ambled in well past the appointed time. He shoved his hand into his cloak pocket but found only lint and a few sickles.
"What the hell?" he snapped violently.
Where the bloody hell was his wand? Percy's eyes slowly slid closed in dread as he made the horrible realization. It had been on his desk the last time he remembered seeing it. If he went back for it now, he'd definitely be late. Percy began to scope about desperately when suddenly, like a beautiful vision, the Knight Bus came screaming to a halt right in front of him.
"Thank fucking Merlin," he sighed out exhausted, before lumbering quickly onto the still humming monstrosity.
"Where you off to?" asked the shifty driver.
"366 Howland," Percy answered shortly. "And the sooner the better," he amended as an afterthought.
The driver shook his head slowly, and a quirk of a knowing smile flitted over his lips. "Yes, sir. If you say so."
Before Percy could even think of bracing himself, the bus kicked into gear, lurching forward and sending him flying backward straight onto his back. He lay there dazed for a few moments, staring up at the grungy ceiling of the bus. Once his mind cleared, Percy began to shakily rise to his feet only to be thrown forward by the sudden stopping of the bus.
"Here you are, sir," announced the driver.
As he straightened up, Percy groped his person to ensure he was still all in one piece. He then looked out the window, but to his dismay it appeared they'd only gone a mile or so.
"What are you talking about? We're still in the business district." Percy whinged, becoming desperate.
"I'm sorry, sir. But the Knight Bus is not permitted to enter your destination's area."
"Why, the devil, not?" Percy burst loudly, frustration oozing out of every pore.
The driver shifted nervously in his seat and slouched down slightly. The man before him was by no means a threatening figure in stature, but there was something unsettling gleaming in this passenger's eyes.
"The residents in this section of town banded together and petitioned the Ministry, sir. A bunch of high falutin' pureblood wankers if you ask me."
"Nobody asked you." Percy growled as he stormed off the bus.
"Good luck, sir!" called the driver facetiously.
But before Percy could turn around and offer the silly twat a less than polite gesture of thanks, the bus was gone.
Percy glanced around the street to regain his bearings, and then down to his watch again. He had exactly five minutes remaining before he would be deemed officially late. She would never forgive him.
"Fuckity fuck fuck!" he bit out sharply.
He looked about frantically. Without his wand, he couldn't even apparate. Probably for the best though, considering he'd in all likelihood splinch himself and end up a pile of disassembled limbs at her front door. Now, wouldn't that be a fitting first date! No, there was only one option left to him.
As Percy set off in a mad dash down the long tree-lined street, he marveled at his definite lack of athleticism. He had always scoffed at his brothers for their almost brutal pursuit of Quidditch and all things physical, while priding himself on more mentally stimulating pursuits. And how was his academia helping him now? If his painfully squeezed chest and burning legs were any indication, not bloody much.
And yet, as a searing pain shot through his chest and his vision blurred signaling an impending blackout, he realized with terrible clarity that although he'd gone about three miles, he still had at least another four to go. Unable to keep up the frantic pace, Percy skidded to a graceless stop and braced his hands on his knees.
There had to be a better way. Maybe he could call at one of these houses and beg to use their floo. In the brief seconds it took for Percy to decide the mortification and embarrassment would be worth it, a pair of feet donned in highly fashionable ladies footwear came into his line of view. With great effort, he pulled his chin up to greet this new person.
"Good evening, Mr. Weasley. Out for a run?" offered Millicent Bulstrode jovially.
Percy could only manage an almost violent shake of his head in the negative as he tried unsuccessfully to pull enough air into his inflamed lungs.
"Oh," she managed through tightly pursed lips, smirking at the almost ridiculous picture the man before her presented. "I take it then that you've been doing some light reading. Can I also assume that you've decided not to take me up on my offer?"
Startled by her abrupt change of topic, Percy looked up fearfully. "I… " was the most he could manage.
"Not to worry, Mr. Weasley. Although I haven't experienced the emotion myself, I do understand the necessity of love. Hopefully, you're headed there now."
At her words, Percy felt himself give up. It was just too much. There was no way he'd make it to Pansy on time now. He sat with a grunt on the edge of the sidewalk and placed his head in his hands.
Completely confused by his sudden deflation, Millicent edged closer, "Are you quite all right, Mr. Weasley?"
"No… wand…" he panted through the emotion and exertion plaguing his quickly tightening chest.
"Ah." She paused to consider his plight. "Would you care for a side along?"
His head snapped up, and he gifted her with an expression hope.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Percy hauled himself up but listed uncertainly to the side, weakened by his insane jaunt. Millicent tried to steady him but was pulled slightly off balance.
After briefly adjusting their centre, she caught his eye. "Are you ready?"
Percy nodded and closed his eyes, prepping himself for the pull of apparition. With alarming force, he felt the squeeze take hold on his already taxed stomach and lungs. His head was still spinning when the sensation began to abate and he cracked his left eye open slightly. There before him was still one Millicent Bullstrode but they were now standing on Pansy's stoop.
"Well, here you are." Millicent offered, roughly cuffing his right shoulder. "Good luck. And I'd say, looking at the time, you'll need it," she chortled glancing at her pocket watch.
Before he could respond, the woman before him disappeared into thin air. Without her holding him up, Percy tripped forward slightly. He threw his hands out in front of himself, catching hold of the side railing.
'Did that really just happen? Am I really here?' he asked himself.
After a few moments, he regained his senses and glanced down at his watch. It was two minutes past. He was late. Without a second thought, he turned toward the mammoth house, and bracing his left hand on the doorframe, he slammed his other hand against the large oak door in three successive bursts. After an excruciatingly long ten seconds, the heavy door opened slowly to reveal a small, very dour looking house elf.
"May I help you, sir?" Archibald asked calmly, ignoring the haggard appearance of the caller.
Percy pushed off from his steady position against the doorframe only to stagger awkwardly to the side. He bumped gracelessly into the other railing caging the front bushes and turned to grasp the cool rod iron. He made to heave the contents of his stomach over the side, but nothing came up but a dreadful retching sound.
"Who's here, Archibald?" came a man's voice.
Although he'd never heard the voice before, he knew it could only be one person. Determined not to have the first meeting with the man he hoped would be his father-in-law one day include him losing his lunch in front of their home, Percy stood and in a sort of daze, sloppily started to pull at his robes to straighten his appearance.
The older man appeared in the doorway, and gave Percy an appraising up and down. "Well, hello there."
Percy, still completely out of breath, could only manage a listless wave.
"I assume you're Mr. Percy Weasley?"
Percy offered a couple of head bobs in response and then taken by a coughing fit, doubled over and clamped his hands on his knees. This was not how he imagined confronting this formidable man when trying to prove his worth. Through his less than genteel hacking coughs, Percy questioned dismally how this meeting could possibly have gone worse.
Thoroughly amused by the show, Mr. Parkinson pressed his lips into a thin line to avoid laughing at the young man's expense. Only his little girl could elicit this kind of reaction from a Weasley.
"Come on, then. I think we've given the neighbours enough of a show," Parkinson offered, stepping aside to allow Percy entrance into his home.
Percy peered up into the warmly lit front hall as if peering into heaven. Summoning all of his strength, he launched himself forward in an awkward lunge. Once inside, Percy quickly realized he was being closely scrutinized by the older man but had no other recourse than to sit down on the hallway chair, and try and catch his breath.
"Before you go in there and woo my daughter," Parkinson stopped to shake his head and chuckle slightly at the notion, "let's get something perfectly clear. I am allowing this ridiculous courtship for three reasons. Firstly, Pansy seems genuinely fond of you, which is a rarity in itself. Second, you are far more qualified to run my business than that fool, Malfoy. And finally, I fully expect the Ministry, especially the Business Affairs department, to reduce the amount of bureaucracy and red tape it lauds on my company on a regular basis," he finished pointedly. "Do I have your assurance that this final point will be taken care of?"
Percy gaped up at the man. Had he not been so exhausted, he might have stood the moral high ground and fought against Parkinson's coercion, but he simply did not have it in him.
"Yes… sir," he croaked out through his panting.
"Good then. Let the games begin," Pansy's father chuckled merrily.
He stepped over to the drawing room door and gave it a few sound raps.
"Yes?" came Pansy's voice from within the drawing room.
Percy felt a mad rush of nerves invade his chest, and his already laboured breathing escalated even further. As his head began to swim with the excess oxygen, he realized he was going to lose consciousness if he didn't get himself under control.
Her father opened the door and stepped just inside. "You have a visitor, Petal. A young man…" He glanced at Percy with a slight smirk before turning his attention back to his daughter. "Are you up for some company?"
"I suppose so," her voice sighed out in a very put upon manner.
Looking back out at him, Robert Parkinson motioned with an impatient wave of his hand. "Well, go on then while she's still in a forgiving mood."
Still unable to catch his breath, Percy vaulted himself out of the chair toward the open door and clumsily stumbled into the room, a gangly mess of long arms and legs. Once he'd come to a halt, he bent over again and planted his hands on his knees, still gasping for air.
"You're late," he heard her state coolly.
He tilted his head up slightly to find her standing with her back to him lighting some candles on a table obviously prepared for dinner. As much as he wanted to, he was still unable to settle his breathing and heart rate enough to speak.
Pansy must have realized he wasn't going to answer her because the next thing he knew, he felt her small hands on his arm and around his back. The gentle touch did nothing to calm his frayed nerves.
"What the devil is the matter with you? Are you all right?" she simpered at him.
Not moving to stand up straight, Percy held out a hand with only a solitary finger extended and continued to gasp desperately for air. After only a few more excruciating seconds, Pansy's patience was obviously at an end.
"Well?" she pressed.
Percy stood quickly and stumbled to the side out of her loose hold, very nearly passing out on the spot. He fought against the encroaching blackness at the edges of his vision and the flashing stars that permeated his sight.
"I… " he gasped, still trying to regain himself, as he began to pace the carpet by the door.
"I…" he managed, shaking his hands to loosen the tension that was constricting his chest.
"You…" she repeated.
"Ran," he finally spat out.
With that integral word out, Percy could only muster a wobbly head bob before he doubled over again and let out a few violent retching coughs.
"You ran… All the way from the Ministry?" she confirmed.
This was answered by a quick shake of the head in the negative.
"Then from where?"
"The edge… of… business… district." he panted as he straightened up.
"That's at least eight miles away. Why, in Merlin's name, did you run eight miles?"
"It was four actually… Nevermind. Did you know the knight bus doesn't operate in your district," he managed as he made his way to the settee and sat down, propping his arms on his thighs and finally composing himself.
Confused, Pansy thought over the odd question. "Um. Yes, I believe I did know that."
"Then you know why I ran." Percy rejoined.
"Actually no, I don't. Why did you run?"
Percy looked up at her with wide eyes. "I… To get here on time."
"Why didn't you just floo?" she coaxed gently, taking a tentative step closer.
"The Ministry's network was down."
The slowly receding redness in his face caused by his physical exertion was quickly replaced by a mad, dark blush.
"In my haste, I… I forgot my wand on my desk. Anyway, I would have splinched for sure."
She stared at him blankly for several long seconds before launching herself toward him and onto his lap. Percy fell back against the cushions by the force of her near tackle, but wrapped his arms around her tightly regardless, matching her fierce embrace.
"You're still late," she breathed out, her cheek pressed firmly against his.
"It won't happen again," he responded softly, cinching her closer.
Pansy pulled back and regarded him tenderly. She brought her hand up to smooth her palm against his cheek and murmured. "See that it doesn't."
Before Percy could respond, whether to laugh or rail against her lip, Pansy crushed her mouth against his, claiming their first real kiss. Even after the second and third and even fourth mind numbing kiss, Percy was unable to see his way clear to answering her sass. He was too happily resigned to the fact that the woman currently on his knee wrapped tightly in his arms would hopefully lord over him for a very long time.
A/N: Well, there you have it folks. This story has finally run it's course. I have had so much fun with it. Hoped you enjoyed the ride. All the best :)
sunshine-48: There you go! You caught up just in time for the happy ending. Think of all those other poor suckers who had to suffer through my angsty torture. lol
Midnight Lilly: Oh, he is. :)
pop-pop-bananas: Perhaps you were correct in your estimation of Pansy's father ;)
Miss Anthrope: I love Pansy and Percy. I may just have to write another one :)
SMichaelM: You're welcome and thank you :)
qt4good: It would... but would it really be the best way? It would definitely be the Slytherin way. lol.
welshgenie: She is a little wonder, my little Jewel is. But more demanding by the day. lol. I think Percy would have been fine with the baby just not with the ethics of Pansy's plan.
Angel Rayne: Pansy's father is a true Slytherin. Greedy and conniving. Who best to serve his interest but the man who can make him even more money and get him a leg up with the ministry?
QueenoftheClumsyDorks: Pansy's dad is a truly greedy and self serving man. It didn't hurt that the man his daughter was really in love with has huge pull at the ministry and the potential to be a very talented business man.
autumnlover: lol. As I said before, her father is greedy. Percy has all the connections and talents a man in PArkinson's position could ask for.
stoneofpurity: It just is that easy. lol. And on a side note, I haven't forgotten about your "Ron" fic. Had to get this one done. Keep an eye out ;)
gingerale22: Her dad really is a true Slytherin, isn't he? lol. And so is Pansy. lol.
mjrkrantz: Unfortunately, I have to save the baby making scene for another story. Maybe a follow up. This story already has one very truly raunchy chapter. lol.
kalira: Hey there. I'm still working on those ideas. Still don't know which one I fancy more though.
peealasbut: It's been Pansy's perception of how her father would react. He's actually a true Slytherin at heart. Very conniving and self serving. And Percy's position in the ministry and he's many talents in the business world serve Parkinson's interests more than Draco does.
ginger28: I am so proud of you... lol. When are you coming over. She's massive now. She'll be 4 months on the 21st and she's over 15lbs now. She's my chubby monkey. lol.