Only through the pain

Disclaimer: I now own a large bottle of pain killers and another large bottle of blood thinners but, sadly, I still do not own Harry Potter. The pain killers make the illusion more real though, especially since my hubbie looks kinda like a buff, greek, older Draco…..hmmm……..

Warning: Pain Killer induced craziness!!!

A/N: Hey all! I’m back, well not really. I still don’t have net, I’m writing this on my lap top, on my couch, on my back, waiting patiently for the T3 connection to be hooked up for me so that Blondie, loving over protective dope that he is, can transfer the files to the computer so I don’t have to move more then my fingers. Ok, now, I’m sorry for worrying all of you a few days ago, do not panic, I am fine. More then fine actually. As some of you know, (because Blondie wrote to you for sending me a letter) I have a genetic malfunction that messes with my hemoglobin and makes me clot too much, too fast. I was cooking dinner (lasagna, a family recipe) and a clot that had formed in my veins got stuck for a second in my heart. I blacked out, hit the floor, (don’t worry, the over door was closed) broke my collarbone and the clot dislodged itself (it was a very SMALL clot, and it didn’t get stuck so much as strike a valve wall wrong or something) and then re-lodged itself in the bicep of my left arm. Blondie, having heard the loud crashy bangy noises, ran in, got me to the hospital where they extracted the clot before it could cause too much tissue damage and then put me through an ass load of tests. And let me tell you, that damn MRI machine sounds like the worst house techno ever. All bangs and clangs and clicks and for a second you go “well, that’s an interesting beat” but then it starts to sound like someone’s banging trashcan lids together and totally throws off whatever groove you may have had going in your head….did I mention they gave me lots of pain killers? Apparently, they think broken collar bones hurt….I guess none of them have ever gone through 63 consecutive hours of labor to squeeze not just one, but two, objects the size of a watermelon through a hole the size of a lemon. More on the saga of Murray’s injuries next chapter ^^ for now, this chapter is called dueling banjos….

Chapter 9- Dueling Banjos (Draco)

I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Harry during lunch, after I woke up from my thoroughly disappointing nap where all I dreamed about was penguins doing swan lake, because the moment I walked up to him in the Great Hall, Dumblefuck’s bitch McGonagall pulled him away. Ginny, however, bounced right up to me under the Headmaster’s stare, pretended to insult me and slipped a note into my robe when she pushed past me. All of this would have been a convincing, normal Weasley/Malfoy altercation if she hadn’t then winked broadly at me and wiggled her eyebrows again. Needless to say, Dumbledore called her away as well to ‘scold’ her for causing a scene.

Harry did not reappear throughout all of lunch and I decided wisely to wait to read Ginny’s note until I returned to my own room since the Slytherins all seemed to be pissed at me for some reason, and Severus seemed equally angry and distracted, staring down the head table at Dumbledore every few moments and then shooting me meaningful glances which I ignored for the most part. I chanced a few glances myself at Harry’s Gryffindor friends, all of whom were also staring at me. In fact, the only people in the hall NOT staring at me seemed to be the Ravenclaws because they were all stuck with their noses in books, as usual.

Finnegan, the drunk Irishman of Gryffindor, seemed in between thoughtful confusion and doubtful consideration, alternately frowning and smiling at me. Neville Longbottom was simply scared, as usual, though I thought I detected a hint of hope for a better future in the rabbit-eyed darting looks. The sleepy one, Dean Thomas I think, blinked a few times, smiled guardedly, blinked again and then fell asleep face first into his sandwich. All of these I took to be good signs that they would not jump me in the hallway and try to ‘force me’ to leave Harry alone. Even Granger, bookworm, muggle-born, leader of the “I hate Malfoy” club, wasn’t looking nearly as hostile as I expected, simply thoughtful, as if on the edge of solving the mystery of the big bang. Weasley though looked ready to leap across the tables and beat my face in with a serving platter if he weren’t being kicked under the table to stop him by Granger. Ginny was just staring off into space near my head with a rather dreamy expression that made me roll me eyes. If things ever did work out between Harry and me, I’d have to be careful never to be around her with a camera.

I sneered at Crabbe and Goyle when they tried to follow me, sent an angry grimace at Severus and then left the hall, in my usual flaring melodramatic style. You see, I’ve noticed that people are less likely to follow you if they’re too busy staring after you with either longing or envy, therefore giving you a good head start. It does not, however, prevent people already waiting for you in the hallway from catching you unfortunately, which is how I was caught by both elbows and dragged backwards through an invisible wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I snarled at the unseen snatchers, “I’ll have you know that it’s a Malfoy you’ve so unceremoniously grabbed!”

“Oi Fred,” said a familiar voice, “Did you know it was a Malfoy that we grabbed?”

“Actually, George, I did indeed know that, but whatsmore, I feel it was more of a ‘yoink’ then a grab.” Said the other twin.

“Oh, no, no, no Fred! It couldn’t have been a yoink, because neither of us SAID yoink.” Said George in a scholarly way.

“Right you are, George, it must have been a snatch then.” Agreed Fred sagely. “We unceremoniously SNATCHED a Malfoy.”

I looked between the two of them, arguing the logistics of a snatch versus a grab or a yoink, and frowned, “What the hell are you two doing here? I thought you dropped out to start a joke shop.” I said finally, getting both of their attentions.

“Ah! That we did, that we did, Eh George?”

“Right Fred, we did indeed.”

“But now we’re back because our darling little sister called a pow-wow…”

“And because Dumbledore worked it out with our mum that we could take night courses and so finish our edu-ma-ca-tion properly.”

“People our more willing to invest in businesses when the owners are learned people.”

“Ah, too true Fred, too true,”

“Don’t let it bother you George.” Said Fred, handing George a handkerchief.

“Thank you Fred,”

“No problem George.”

“You two are giving me a most unpleasant migraine.” I snapped, “So could you please tell me WHY I was snatched from the hall?”

The twins exchanged a look and then grinned at me.

“We,” said one,

“Are on,” said the other,

“A top secret mission,” they said together.

“Ginny told us to come get you and keep you out of Dumbledore’s clutches all day,” Fred…or was it George…said.

“And then we are to deliver you to the time and place of her choosing.” Said George…or possibly Fred…

“If this is a top secret mission, why did you just tell me?” I rolled my eyes. I hadn’t had many encounters with the twins before, but I knew from other people that they were always this ridiculous.

“Ginny said she filled you in.” One shrugged, and I remembered the note in my pocket.

“Hang on,” I muttered, pulling the paper out and reading it out loud. “Grasshopper, Harry and I wanted to hang out with you after lunch, but unfortunately Dumblefuck is wise to us, so we’re going to have to talk after hours. Things look good in all departments, and I hope you have worked a little on the assignment I gave you because you never know when I’ll spring a pop quiz *insert evil laugh*. Oh and by the way, the twins are going to be abducting you after lunch to keep you away from Dumbledore until we can have a proper party. Don’t be alarmed if you suddenly find yourself with a rough woven sack over your head or something equally resembling a kidnapping. Ciao, G.” I frowned as the twins took the note and muttered for about the billionth time in a mere 24 hours, “What a weird, weird girl.”

“Oi! That’s our baby sister you’re muttering about!” Snipped one of the twins.

The other tilted his head thoughtfully, “You have to admit though Fred; she IS odd at times.”

Fred, frowned, “Yes George, she is, but that doesn’t mean he gets to say so. Not yet anyway.”

“Ah, a truer statement was never said Fred,” George admitted, while hooking my arm again and beginning to walk me down a secret passage. They continued on in that manner for several hours, showing me ALL the secret passages of Hogwarts while continuing to bicker and agree over my head.

Then, near the end of the tour, when I was about ready to bash my skull against the nearest blunt object, they pulled me into one of the girls bathrooms and I frowned, “Not that this tour of the girl’s loo isn’t fascinating, but what exactly is in here that is interesting?”

“Did you hear that Fred?”

“Sure did George! The bloke wants to know what’s interesting about Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom!”

“Should we explain it to him Fred?”

“I don’t know George, might ruin the surprise.”

“Just out of curiosity, do you two have an off button somewhere underneath all that red hair?” I interjected sincerely.

“Well…” said Ginny, stepping out from behind a stall door, “They do have an off switch….but it’s not in their hair and you have to have a really LONG OBJECT to reach it, if you get my drift. Now boys, if you’d release my grasshopper, I’d appreciate it.”

“No fair telling everyone about our naughty secret Ginny,” One of the twins pouted.

“Yeah! That’s top secret information, that is!” The other added, pushing me towards my unasked for mentor. “And we’re sure your ‘grasshopper’ doesn’t appreciate being taunted with something he can’t have.”

“Why you little…” I twitched forward and was stopped by another of Ginny’s shoes. Did the woman keep them hidden up her ass somewhere? It wasn’t even a shoe she was WEARING for Christ’s sake! “OW! What the hell was that for?” I shouted, turning to her and away from the twins, missing the fact that they were both starting to unbutton their pants.

“Hey, a small bump from Prada now is saving you from a lifetime of scarring in the future.” Ginny shrugged, retrieving the shoe and shouting over my shoulder, “Put your pants back on you two, Draco probably doesn’t want to see those monsters, Harry doesn’t need to and I CERTAINLY don’t want to ever again!” she flung the shoe at her brothers this time.

I heard zippers and one of the twins saying, “But he insulted our manly hood, and we have proof to the contrary!”

“Well said!” said the other.

“Would you two kindly shut up?” said Harry scaring the shit out of me when his head popped out of a giant pipe that had appeared out of nowhere. “I have seen your proof and trust me, it would NOT convince him,” he winked at me, “Now stop your damned verbal tennis match and come on! I’m bored!”

“Alright Harry, alright!” One of the twins sighed, “Move your head and we’ll come all you want!”

“Oh, kinky Fred,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Just get down here.” His head disappeared again and the twin, Fred, jumped down.

“Hmmm, someone’s in a good mood, he must have started without us, the wanker.” George commented and was pushed down the hole by Ginny.

“Hermione managed to get some muggle anti-depressants from Lavender and I slipped a couple to Harry in his pumpkin juice,” She whispered, “I don’t want him to have an episode tonight when the conversation turns…interesting.” She winked broadly, “Now hurry up, and watch your hair on the way down, we still haven’t figured out how to completely de-slime this pipe.” She herself pulled all of her hair into a bun and pulled a muggle hooded sweatshirt over it. “Come on then!” she grabbed my arm.

“You have got to be joking….No…wait…Weasley! No! I am not going down that disgusting….ahh!!!!!”