Recap: Sequel to Now what, Draco? - What happens when they go back to school...
Dicslaimers: I don't own the characters and all that stuff...
Warnings: Boy X Boy!
Other info; less Ron-/Ginny-bashing (although it might come back later, but for the most part, Ron is a good guy, I honestly don't know where that came from o_O)
EWE, I apologize for OOC, eehm, Fred is still alive (btw), possible Deamus further (but I doubt it)
A/N: And here it is, I've got the first act written, and I'm now cutting it into chapters, so I'll upload it in parts. If I don't then I won't get all those awful mistakes out of it.
So enjoy this chapter, hopefully.
I also haven no idea how this is going to end...
The holidays are almost over; finally, we can go back to school. Now there's a sentence only a wizard would think.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the living room of the Burrow, looking at the stuff they'd bought in Diagon Alley only hours before. Packing was one of the most fun things to do. Almost as fun as unpacking and moving into the new dorms.
Four suitcases were standing in front of them. The fourth didn't belong to Ginny however. She was packing in her room. Ever since the little *cough*stunt*cough* Harry had pulled about three months before she'd refused to speak to him. Or his counterpart, for that matter. But let's face it; she wouldn't have spoken to him either way. It wasn't the kissing part that bothered her. Not really. Maybe a little. Doesn't matter.
Anyway, what bothered her was the reaction that followed.
Granted, running away whilst screaming her head off hadn't been the most … elegant way of dealing with such a situation. Still, her brothers didn't have to laugh at her every time she walked into a room. I mean, it had been three months. Just move on!
So she wasn't talking to them anymore, which Harry was fine with. It was so peaceful and quiet.
He was just about to place his books in a nice pile when Draco walked into the room. Ron looked up and rolled his eyes. He'd gotten used to the boy being in his house, but he still didn't exactly like him very much. Draco walked to his suitcase, placed his final stuff in it and, with a flick of his wand, closed it firmly.
With two more steps he walked past the others and dumped himself (quite graciously) next to his boyfriend. Harry leaned over and kissed him gently on his lips before finishing up his own packing. Then he stretched a bit and cuddled against Draco's lean body.
The blonde had always been pretty toned, but during those last few months he'd changed a bit. He was now insanely hot; he'd grown and become more muscular. His hair was less strict but still looked perfect and his ever-scowling face had grown a little softer. Not that he didn't scowl anymore, but it wasn't as vicious and sharp as it used to be. It was more like his form of humour.
Harry had gone through about the same changes. He'd also grown, but he was still the smaller one of the two. His hair was the same royal mess but his eyes no longer reflected a hopeless fight. Instead, they showed sheer life and faith. He had also picked up some traits from his boyfriend. He was now a master of sarcasm, though he barely used it, out of fear of angering his friends. He'd also learned to plot evil plans. Or mad practical jokes, at least. The twins specifically loved that part. Their mother hated it.
Draco had draped his arm around Harry and they were watching Ron and Hermione finish up their own work as well. They had a rematch of quidditch planned. Although it was sure to be another slaughter because, let's face it, how could a bookworm and a weasel win against the two best flyers at Hogwarts?
Hermione nodded once after triple checking her suitcase and got up. "Okay, I'm done."
Ron looked up from his work and said, "Me too."
His girlfriend glanced over at his case and raised an eyebrow.
Malfoy's sneer came from behind his back, "Are you sure you want to be seen with that … thing?"
Ron shot him a deathglare.
"Sod off." His assaulter raised his hands in defence and looked away.
"Just saying," he muttered. Ron was about to give him a peace of his mind when Hermione pitched in, "Well, it's just that… it's a bit messy, that's all."
At this point Harry became interested in what the fuss was, so he turned his head to see it. He immediately stifled a laugh, and failed to do so. Draco raised his eyebrow in amusement as Ron yelled an undignified "Harry!"
"I'm sorry," Harry managed between laughs. "It's just that… I've never seen such an… interesting… suitcase."
"Interesting indeed," Draco repeated, staring at the box that looked as though someone had simply thrown everything in it, closed it and thrown it down six flights of stairs. The funny part being that, just like the other three, Ron had carefully placed every single object in its exact spot.
"I really don't see how you can do that without using your suitcase as a quaffle at the World Cup finals."
Ron just snuffed his nose and turned away, but he didn't exactly get any support from a giggling Hermione. "I'm sorry Ron," she said after she saw his face. Then the giggling overtook her again.
So it took them a couple of hours, rearranging a protesting Ron's case, before they finally went upstairs to grab their brooms. Seconds later they were flying through the sky. They played the same game they had for most of their matches; Harry and Draco versus Ron and Hermione, playing with a quaffle as they tried to play soccer-on-brooms.
Obviously, Draco and Harry won. After a few hours they walked back inside, Ron covered in mud because Harry had accidentally pushed him off his broom. The smell of sweet potatoes, sausages and spinach was wafting out of the kitchen window, and all four noticed how hungry they were. They gathered around the covered table and were about to start eating when Draco's eyes fell on the unread Daily Prophet that had been dropped on the windowsill that morning. The headline on the front page read:
Notorious Death-Eater Lucius Malfoy Disinherits Own Son?