Just Around the Riverbend

Oh, a new semester at school is upon us and real life sucks biscuits. Anyway, I think everyone for their patience, and I reward you with a longer chap than usual. I'm glad you all liked the interaction between Daisy and Phelan, and I know you're all curious as to Draco's appearance. Be Patient, my luvlies, and we'll see soon enough. I may have undershot the runway, and may very possibly hit 55 to 60 chapters at the rate this story is going in my head. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Voracious Reader
angeles
HarryGinny4Eva
Anathema
hairsprayX12
JadeLucky
margaritama - One of these days I'll figure out what you're trying to say...
Gypsy Rhodes
Jenn
Alina
LaBibliographe
Grander
Forsaken_dream

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Draco opened his eyes blearily, and closed them again immediately due to the fact that it felt like a leprechaun was tap dancing on his brain. He gagged, and felt bile rising in his throat. A garbage pail was shoved in front of his face just as he leaned forward to vomit. When he was through retching, he leaned back against soft pillows, and felt a cool cloth pressed to his forehead.

“Pansy?” he croaked, unwilling to open his eyes.

“Pansy? Ha! She hasn’t even sent an owl to ask how you’re doing!”

That wasn’t Pansy’s voice. In fact, it sounded an awful lot like-

“Granger? What the hell are you doing in my flat?” he asked. He heard a tutting sound.

“This isn’t your flat, Malfoy. This is your bedroom back home,” Hermione said. Draco made a sound of understanding, and was quiet for a few moments.

“Wait…why are you in my bedroom back home?” he asked suddenly, braving the headache to open his eyes. Hermione waved her wand over the garbage pail, vanishing the mess inside.

“You Apparated onto the grounds in a right state. If Phelan hadn’t found you, the Healer said you would have either bled to death, or choked on your own vomit. Not exactly a very honorable way to die, Malfoy,” Hermione said, pinning him with a look. Draco looked at her with bloodshot gray eyes.

“That still doesn’t explain you…in my room….at the Manor,” He said obstinately. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Lucius asked me to make sure you were still breathing.” She replied. Draco pulled the cool cloth from his forehead, and threw it at Hermione’s feet.

“You can tell my father to piss off and mind his own damned bus- wait a moment….did you just call him Lucius?” Draco completely backtracked mid-sentence, staring at the Muggleborn witch before him. Hermione merely gave the young blonde a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile.

“Did I? Silly me,” she cooed, summoning the wet cloth to her hand without a word. “I must have meant ‘super mega sexy man who spawned you,’” Hermione said. It was quite hilarious the way Draco’s pale, pointed face paled even more. In fact, he looked sicker now than he did before he’d woken up.

“Granger…you….and my father…?...So the thing at the ball….with your magic….ugh!” Draco groaned, and buried his face into his hands. No one wanted to think of their parent as a sexual being. Especially with a girl that he’d graduated with. And a mudblood to boot! Draco recovered much quicker than Hermione had expected.

“Well…at least you’ve moved up on the social ladder. Weasley couldn’t buy you a mouldy paper sack,” Draco sniped. Hermione merely smiled.

“Please. I’m not in it for the money. Your father is just very…very…very good at what he does,” Hermione replied, and winked at Draco. The shock was back on his face, and Hermione took this time to turn away from him, and walk languidly from the room. She shut the door behind her, and nearly dissolved into giggles.

“’Super mega sexy man who spawned you?’”

Hermione looked up to see Lucius leaning against the wall, an eyebrow up. Hermione shrugged.

“He was going to be a little prick about it. I decided to go ahead and shut him up.” Hermione said. Lucius’ lips quirked slightly.

“Well, you did it successfully,” he chuckled. “But now I’m going to have to hear it from him…”

Hermione tilted her head at Lucius, studying his face. Would he be ashamed of her in the presence of his son? She suddenly felt very self-conscious.

Lucius saw the change in her demeanor, and a wave of fierce protectiveness hit him. He stepped forward, and drew her into his arms.

“I will not change my feelings for you over what my son has to say. You are mine, Hermione, and no man, be he my son or my enemy, can take you away from me,” he rumbled gingerly, and she buried her face into his chest.

“So it’s true.”

Both of them looked up to see Draco leaning in his doorway. He was shirtless, save for the bandages looped around his chest to cover the long, suspicious gash the Healer had found going downward from his shoulder to his side. He also had some bandages around his right forearm. His left arm was bare, revealing the Dark Mark tattoo that still lingered on the pale skin. Hermione’s brown eyes were drawn to it.

She hadn’t really noticed Lucius’ as of late. Perhaps it was because he had given her no reason to. Draco was about to light into them, and so Hermione’s attention was drawn to the flaw in his physical being.

“Like it, Granger? It was given courtesy of my father. I never thought it was too attractive,” Draco said, holding his left arm out. Light silver lines marred the image of the Mark, and faded to ugly pink scars when it touched his un-tattooed flesh. “I tried to cut it off several times,” he added conversationally. “But you can’t get rid of the Dark Lord’s Mark that easily. No, no, no! I even contemplated cutting off my own arm just to be rid of it. Did I ever tell you that, Father?” Draco’s silver-gray eyes flicked up to his father’s face. “No? Well…it’s true,” he finished, his eyes lighting on Hermione’s face. He saw something there he didn’t like. Pity. His face twisted into a mask of fury.

“Don’t you dare pity me, you filthy Mudblood!” he hissed, taking a step forward. Hermione gasped, but Lucius’ arm extended, wand in hand, and stopped Draco in his steps. “Filthy Mudblood…” Draco whispered, and backed into his room. He stood there for a few moments, just staring at Hermione with haunted eyes, before he turned his back to them. Hermione gasped when she saw the silver scars criss-crossing over his back. At one time his back must have been lain open with stripes for so many scars to appear. “Another gift from the Dark Lord,” Draco mumbled without looking back, and then his bedroom door slammed of its own accord.

Draco’s only company for the next few days was the healer that tended to him. He stayed in his room for all things. He did not leave to eat, as he took his meals in his room. He did not leave to bathe, as he had a bathroom connected to his bedroom. He passed the time by reading in his room from his own private collection.

Lucius found that while Draco’s presence was a huge relief to him, the circumstances surrounding his return were not. The boy had been beaten nearly to death. He’d suffered several internal injuries to match the ones on the outside of his body. And for what? Because the boy couldn’t keep it in his pants. He knew Draco was rebelling. He knew his son was doing something- anything to keep himself sane after the war, and after losing his mother. The boy-no, he corrected himself- the young man was a lonely island on a sea of sorrow, searching desperately for an anchor to keep himself from drowning. Lucius knew the feeling. He knew it well.

His own anchor was at present leaning against him languidly, with an open book in her hands. She had said nothing about Draco so far, and for that Lucius was grateful. He didn’t want to speak of his son’s shortcomings with her. He knew that there had been incredible animosity between the two in school. And it was his fault. That was how he’d raised Draco. And he’d pressured him to be better than the Mudblood. And now he cared deeply for the same girl his son had wanted nothing more than to get rid of.

He reached over and ran his fingers over Hermione’s soft curls. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

The small pop next to them startled them apart, and Lucius looked down to see one of the house elves standing there, rubbing its hands together nervously.

“What is it, Mint?” he asked irritably. The elf shivered, lowering its amber eyes to the ground.

“Mint hates to bother the master…but a visitor is being here for him. Heady Master Denebola is being here for Master.” Mint said. Lucius frowned. Then he started, standing from his seat with such abruptness that Hermione fell backwards slightly.

“Bloody buggering hell!” he hissed. With all of the drama from Draco the previous night, he’d completely forgotten that he’d asked the current Headmaster of Hogwarts to come over to discuss enrolling Daisy for the fall. Despite being thirteen, he was positive her magical knowledge would get her in with the fourth years. She’d need to be screened, though.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, righting herself on the sofa.

“I asked Headmaster Denebola to come today. I was going to see about enrolling Daisy at Hogwarts. But with everything that happened last night, I completely forgot,” He replied, looking a bit flustered. He never forgot appointments. He hated being late. He despised being unprepared.

Hermione stood calmly from her seat, placing her book out of the way.

“Calm down,” She said soothingly. She reached up and smoothed down the lapel of his robes, that had gotten shifted when she laid against him. “You still look like you own half of the wizarding world.” She teased gently. But he merely returned her words with a cross stare.

“But I do.” He replied, no hint of mirth in his retort. Hermione raised an eyebrow. Then she looked down at herself. Her lounging clothes were unsuitable for company. Her wand was out of her sleeve in a flash, and with a few taps of her wand, she had transfigured her robes into something more suitable. She stood in a knee-length, cap-sleeve navy sun dress, and her abominable trainers had changed to white ballet flats. She quickly conjured a white ribbon, and tied her hair away from her face, securing her wand in the resulting ponytail.

“Such skill with Transfiguration…” Lucius commented idly. Hermione smirked.

“I wasn’t McGonagall’s favorite lion for my good looks. Now, receive your guest and stop staring at my boobs.” She scolded. He merely smirked, and snapped at the house elf, which disappeared with a pop.

A few minutes later the guest appeared in the drawing room. He was a far cry from Albus Dumbledore, Hermione noted with no surprise. He wore dark blue robes over an impeccable silk shirt and perfectly pressed pants, and his polished boots barely made noise against the stone floor. He had neatly groomed hair, black as pitch with a single streak of grey at his right temple. And his eyes were the most amazing shade of- holy buggering shite! His eyes were gleaming red, but they held no malice in them. They were normal eyes, with only the iris a crimson color. He had a neatly trimmed black goatee, and he walked with quiet power and grace.

“Aladfar. It is a pleasure to see you.” Lucius welcomed, snapping into host mode. Aladfar Denebola gave the blonde a polite nod.

“Lucius. It’s been quite a while. But I understand that this isn’t a social call?” Denebola spoke with the careful art of a Slytherin.

“Unfortunately. I’ll cut to the chase, shall I?” Lucius inguired. Denebola inclined his head again. “I wish to speak with you about my dear cousin. With the school year nearly upon us, I would prefer Daisy spend in studiously within the walls of Hogwarts, instead of lounging here with no purpose.” Lucius began. Hermione stood quietly out of the way, marveling at the new Headmaster from afar.

“Ah yes, the one who has managed to keep herself in the papers since she arrived. I do believe at last I heard she’d managed to blood-bind herself to the son of Fenrir Greyback.” Aladfar said, his voice void of any condescension or malice. He merely…spoke.

“Indeed. But he is no problem. He is no threat to anyone. His mind stays with him during transformations without the aid of the Wolfsbane Potion. As you may know, many consider him the hero of that night.” Lucius returned, thinking how hard he would throttle the boy if he was the reason Daisy wasn’t accepted to Hogwarts.

“I judged him not. I merely observed.” Denebola spoke. “Transfers are rare to Hogwarts, as you know. The last transfer happened over fifty years ago.” His gleaming eyes fell on Hermione, and his expression changed slightly. “Ah, and what lovely young lady has decided to grace us with her presence?” he asked, stepping towards Hermione. She blushed.

“I’m Hermione Granger.” She said. He bowed to her slightly.

“Ah yes…the great Hermione Granger. The smartest witch to pass through the walls of Hogwarts in centuries. And a Muggleborn to boot.” He added, his voice mirthful. Hermione gave a small smile, but said nothing after that sentence. “Well, I suppose I should ask you: What is your opinion of Miss Daisy Melfy?” he asked. Hermione seemed to think for a moment.

“She likes to learn. She’s willing to learn. And she’s very easy to get along with. I think she’d do well at Hogwarts.” Hermione said. Headmaster Denebola listened as Hermione spoke. As he opened his mouth to speak, a sharp squeal sounded in the hallway, and they all turned to see Phelan come into the room, with Daisy thrown over his shoulder. He paused when he saw the newcomer.

“Phelan, you stupid furry fuck-tard! Let me down!” she cried, and kicked her legs. He quickly put her down, his face turning red quickly as Lucius let out a low groan and put his face in his hand. Daisy whirled around, and stiffened when she saw the stranger. “Oh. Erm…I mean…Phelan, you silly silly boy…” she said weakly. But Denebola surprised them all by letting out a deep laugh.

“While I do not agree with the language, I find your verbal creativity amusing.” He said, smiling at Daisy. Her cheeks flushed, and she gave a nervous smile.

“Um…thanks?” she was unsure of what to say, really. Lucius stepped forward, an annoyed look on his face.

“Daisy, this is Aladfar Denebola. He is the Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Lucius said, his voice a bit tight. Daisy’s eyes widened slightly. She’d heard her cousin speak fondly of Hogwarts, but she had no idea she was supposed to go! She thought she’d be home schooled like she had been in the States. Apparently not.

“Hello.” Daisy said softly. Denebola gave her a toothy grin, and she noticed his canine teeth were slightly longer than normal. Phelan noticed it too, and tilted his head.

“You’re not completely human.” Phelan said, his nostrils flaring. Denebola looked at Phelan for a moment, before laughing again.

“No, my boy, I’m not. I am one quarter vampire on my father’s side. Just enough that I get fangs, but not enough that I’m-”

“A magical creature.” Phelan finished for him. Denebola merely smiled.

“I was going to say ‘a fire hazard in the sunlight,’ but that works too.” He said genially.

“Aladfar…this visit has been quite embarrassing.” Lucius started. “Be honest with me. Does Daisy have a chance at getting into Hogwarts?” he asked.

“I’ll have to approve it with the board, Lucius, but I don’t see them saying no with such a glowing recommendation from me. Miss Melfy would be quite a riot in the halls of Hogwarts. In a completely good way, of course.” He added, seeing the look on Lucius’ face. “Besides, it looks good for international relations to have an American in the school. I should say to be expecting her Hogwarts letter in a few weeks.” Denebola finished.

“What year will she be? She’s ahead of her age group…” Lucius said. It always looked good to be ahead.
After a moment’s pause, Denebola answered. “We’ll screen her sometime next week then, and perhaps she’ll be amongst the fourth years.” He said, eyeing Daisy speculatively.

“What about Phelan?” Daisy asked suddenly, moving close to the boy in question. “I won’t go anywhere without him.” She said. Again, only a few moments passed before Denebola answered.

“There used to be provisions made for students who became married while at school. I should think blood-bonding would fall under the same category, being nearly the same thing. I’ll see what some of the Portraits have to say, and we’ll get back to you on that. Is that sufficient, Miss Melfy?” Daisy nodded wordlessly, still a bit in shock over what was happening.

She’d never been away from home like that before. This was essentially a boarding school. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. But Hermione and Lucius looked so excited at the prospect of her going…

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Aladfar.” Lucius said, holding out his hand. Denebola took Lucius’ hand firmly, and shook it.

“I hope we shall get to meet more in the future.” He said. Lucius nodded.

Daisy watched as Lucius led Denebola out of the room, both talking quietly. Phelan was silent behind her, but when the two men had left, Hermione let out a squeal.

“Isn’t this exciting, Daisy? You’ll be going to Hogwarts!” she said, and clapped her hands. Daisy gave a watery smile, and felt Phelan’s hand brush hers gently, before he took her hand in his.

“Absolutely heart-stopping.”

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Daisy seems a bit nervous about the prospect of going to Hogwarts. Phelan hasn't given his opinion, and Draco seems to have found a dark corner to hide in. Things are getting interesting.

Well, you've shmoozed my fantastic and terribly exciting chapter, the least you could do is drop me a few lines. Lay some verbs and adjectives down for me, you jive turkeys. ^_^ Yay, outdated slang.

Anyway, review/rate/both....