Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Let There Be No More Curse	By : lexiatel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 61015 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jk Rowling, I do not make any profit in writing this story what so ever, I am just having some fun.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Early, in the following morning, before the sun was even set to rise, Scorpius squinted his eyes in his wake, and lifted his head up to look around. His vision was quite distort, as his eyes were still adjusting from having slept a while. He rubbed them clear and yawned. Then, he looked at his parents.
First at his daddy. He slept on his tummy, and had his arm bridged over Scorpius's small body where it was set atop of Mumma's hip, who was on her side, facing both Scorpius and Daddy. Daddy was breathing softly, sleeping peacefully; something he got to do a lot of recently, since Mumma and Daddy slept together side by side every night now.
Mumma had her hands tucked under her cheek to act as a pillow. She was snoring slightly, even though her mouth was tightly shut. Mumma was smiling. Scorpius sensed she was dreaming of nice things. Happy memories maybe.
Scorpius looked up at the Christmas tree that he had fun decorating with his family many hours ago. He smiled, thinking about it, pleased that everyone had participated without too much of an argument. It was progress, he thought.
Carefully, Scorpius rolled over onto his limbs. His back grazed his Daddy's arm in the movement, but he knew Daddy was in a heavy slumber and wouldn't wake from the touch. He crawled out from between his parents, all the while focusing on a blue tinted Christmas bauble, admiring how the glare of the multicoloured lights flickered off it.
Why was it this colour? he asked himself. Out of all the colours in the entire world, what was it about blue that fascinates me so much?
He sat just at the edge of the tree, and reached up to tug on a branch, exploring the prickling feeling of the needles.
Mumma's favourite colour isn't blue, he thought. It wasn't even red, as much as Daddy liked to think it was (obviously, Mumma hadn't told Daddy what colour she really liked). Scorpius was beginning to learn that many people thought you liked a certain colour because of the Hogwarts house you were sorted into, but that wasn't actually a fact. How could a sorting determine what colours you like? And it would be pointless to be sorted into a house based off your favourite color.
And Daddy's most favourite colour is...
Scorpius looked at his father, wrinkling his eyebrows in concentration. Daddy's favourite colour wasn't green, though he quite liked it. It wasn't grey or black either, as some people would think it was because of the chosen colours he always wore. It was... Scorpius' lips twitched slightly in frustration. He wasn't quite sure what Daddy's favourite colour was. That disturbed him a little. He knew so much about Daddy (and also about his mumma—how could he not, he was bound to them, afterall), but not knowing this tiny detail about Daddy bothered Scorpius. And he couldn't understand why.
Why should this matter to him? It's only a colour preference.
He twisted around, settling his eyes on something, suddenly remembering it. He wanted to touch it, but Mumma hadn't understood Scorpius when he had been pointing the object out to her earlier. He could check it out now, though, since he had the chance to.
With a determined look on his face, he began crawling to the display shelf. His eyes widened as he got closer to the item. It was so shiny; so pretty. Though it wasn't blue, it was still an object he would like to hold and play with— if he were careful with it. He certainly didn't want to break the precious thing.
*/*
Hermione stirred awake and opened her eyes a moment later. Draco was snuggled up next to her with an arm wrapped around her. She felt secure in his embrace. Protected and safe. She leaned forward, enclosing the tiny gap between their heads and kissed the tip of his nose, making it wiggle from her touch.
It was time to feed Scorpius. Gently, so she wouldn't wake him, she removed Draco's arm from her. She sat up, looking between their bodies for her son, but he wasn't there. She flipped off the blanket that covered her, thinking he may have somehow gotten underneath it.
That wasn't the case though. Her heart frantically began to pace. Malfoy Manor was enormous, and Scorpius was a fast mover. How long ago had he gotten away? She swallowed hard at the thought of him getting lost.
She tugged the blanket off of Draco, hissing, "Draco, wake up!"
He groaned, grasping the blanket and pulling it back to him.
"Draco!" She thumped him on his rear end.
"No," he moaned. "I'm too sleepy!" He then buried his head under the blanket.
"Scorpius is gone!" she shrieked, rolling from their makeshift bed and standing up.
That got Draco's attention. He bolted up from his laying position and tilted his head in confusion. "Gone?" he asked, searching the bed with his squinting eyes.
"He's crawled away!" Hermione retrieved her wand from the end table where she had placed it on the night before. Her eyes widened in terror. "He may have crawled down a flight of stairs and crack his head!" She ran out of the room then, frantically calling for the baby.
"Hermione!" Draco was sprinting up behind her. "Don't panic," he warned her, then called upon Toogy.
Hermione didn't pay him any attention as she ducked her head into every room she passed, calling out for Scorpius.
"Oh, Little One is with your father, sir," the House-elf answered after Draco asked where Scorpius was.
Hermione snapped around with a sigh of relief. "Where?!" she demanded.
"Master's telly room, miss!" Toogy responded, happily rocking on the balls of her feet.
"Thank you," Draco and Hermione both said in unison before Hermione dashed off to the room.
Draco hurried after her. "That was a bit of an overreaction," he told her seriously. "The Manor isn't as dangerous as you think. I grew up here," he added firmly.
"Sorry," she said breathlessly. "I just... he could get lost easily here. I know I could."
"There are five House-elves here who know pretty much everything that goes on. They know where every person in the Manor is located at in any given time. As you know, their magic is special. They also know when someone is physically harmed while under this roof..." He frowned a split second later and shook his head. "If Scorpius was hurt, we would have been notified of it immediately."
"Sorry," she repeated. "I wasn't thinking. I was just so scared, and I didn't know that the elves would know that..." she said shamefully.
"There's a lot about House-elves you don't seem to know. I would have thought with all the knowledge you have about everything, House-elves would have been one of the subjects you'd have read about more."
Hermione scoffed. "One thing I learned when reading books: many authors have biased opinions. With the lack of care that those poor creatures get, any book about them was considered rubbish to me!"
"And how many books about them have you read?"
She ducked her head at his narrowing eyes. "None... just a brief chapter in a book, explaining their slavery and devotion to their rotten masters. I found it utterly repulsive."
"And you based all your opinions about those who write about House-elves on a measly chapter in one book?" Draco asked, quirking up an eyebrow.
Hermione shrugged. "Most books I discovered about them weren't much different— according to the summaries I read. I wasn't interested in reading about their abuse. That 'measly' chapter was enough to make my skin crawl. It was pretty graphic."
He nodded. "You're right that most books about them cover the horrors many of them go through, and the abuse they are put through because a lot of people believe that the House-elves actually enjoy it and think they deserve it, but there are a few rare treasures that cover their side of their enslavement and their opinions about it."
"In favour of them?" she asked hopefully. "How they truthfully feel about their predicament?"
"Yes, and I so happen to have a few of them," Draco informed proudly. "I'll show them to you later, alright?"
Hermione smiled at him with a nod. "I would like to read them."
He returned her smile, looping an arm around her waist. "I know," he said, planting a simple kiss to her cheek. "That is why I brought it up. You'll need to read them before we start campaigning for their rights. If you want to be taken seriously, you should know every angle of the subject first."
Hermione agreed with him. People would take her much more seriously if she knew everything she could about them. Which meant she'd have to force herself to read those graphic stories on House-elves.
Draco patted her side with the hand that was rested against her waist. "It'll be alright," he said softly, noticing her gruesome look. "I'll be right here to help you."
"Nahdee!" Scorpius cheered from his place on his grandfather's knee when Draco and Hermione stepped into Mr. Malfoy's telly room.
"Ah, you're awake," Mr. Malfoy announced, standing up from the sofa. "Have a good sleepover?" he asked and let out a quiet snicker.
"It's our new Christmas tradition, Father," Draco informed smugly. His lips spread out into a grin as Mr. Malfoy raised his eyebrows to the announcement.
"What a strange tradition," Draco's father drawled in thought. "Might I ask why so?"
"My parents and I used to do it every Christmas," Hermione explained, taking an anxious Scorpius from Mr. Malfoy. "And I'm going to do it with Scorpius, because he's my son too." She gave the elder Wizard a pointed look, daring him to argue or perhaps forbid her from doing it.
"We are going to do it," Draco emphasized. "I'm her family now, just as she is mine."
Mr. Malfoy's eyes briefly flickered to his son. He stiffened a little. "If that is what you wish to do," he said with a tone that matched his stance. His upper lip twitched a little as he looked Hermione in the eye. "Best to keep a better eye on the boy, Draco." His eyes narrowed at Hermione. "Found him playing with your mother's snowglobe— you know, the special one."
Both Mr. Malfoy and Hermione looked over at Draco upon hearing him clear his throat. His eyes widened a little as he looked at his father for a lengthy few moments before they fell to Scorpius who began fussing, eager to nurse on Hermione. He nodded and tilted his head forward. "Yes, Father," he acknowledged.
"Oh!" Hermione huffed, and struggled with the baby as he started pulling down the neck of her night shirt in an effort to expose her breasts to him so he could feed. "Nahdee!" he screeched hungrily. "Dah!"
"Go and feed him, Mione," Draco told her. "Before he shreds your clothing into pieces." He chuckled slightly at that.
Hermione sent him a look before glancing embarrassingly at Mr. Malfoy.
"Breakfast will be ready in twenty-three minutes, Draco. Unless, of course you want to change that part of your Christmas tradition too?" Mr. Malfoy asked, all the while staring at Hermione, seemingly not noticing the struggle between his grandson and her.
She pursed her lips, hugging Scorpius close to her to slow his progress. "We'll be there," she informed him with as much patience as she could muster up. Then she hurried out of the room to find a private area to feed her son at.
Twenty minutes later, after putting a sleeping Scorpius down for a nap (since he had fallen asleep during his feeding), and dressing quickly so she wasn't in a complete mess, Hermione joined Draco and his parents in the dining room for Christmas breakfast.
When she was growing up, before the war, she used to cook Christmas breakfast with her mother. They had always made the same thing every year, another tradition that she missed; Cinnamon-raisin rolls, made from a dough Mum had prepared the night before.
Maybe she'd do that with Scorpius when he was older and make that into a tradition too. She had a short afterthought that Mr. Malfoy would likely disapprove his grandson cooking in the kitchen, but she tossed that aside. She didn't care if he would like the idea or not. Scorpius was her son; he had gotten to raise his own already. If she wasn't sad over the absence of her parents, she'd actually smile at the thought of Mr. Malfoy's scowl upon seeing his small look-alike spreading a layer of cinnamon and sugar on a sour-smelling dough.
"Are you alright?" Draco leaned toward her from next to her and asked.
She nodded tearfully, missing the time she had spent with her parents. "Yes," she managed to answer, but it came out in a whisper. "There is just so much food!" she said, forcing a smile. And really there was a lot of food. Five different pancakes, three types of french toast and toppings, eggs in just about every style you can think of, rainbows of fruit, bacon, ham, sausages, and even fish. Breakfast rolls, scones, and toast. There was also fresh yogurt and cereals. Hogwarts wasn't the only place that could put on a massive feast.
"Didn't think anyone could beat Hogwarts when it came to a food buffet, huh?" Draco said, dishing himself up some fruit.
His parents had already began filling their plates too. "Well, dig in dear," Mrs. Malfoy said from across the table when Hermione hadn't made a move to eat. "Don't let it get cold now. The House-elves worked very hard to prepare this for us. You wouldn't want their work to go to waste, would you?" she craftily said with a wink.
Hermione gave a faint smile to the woman who she had discovered recently could be very kind when she wanted to be. "Um... Happy Christmas, everyone," she said, folding her hands together and glancing around the table as the Malfoys all realized they hadn't said it to each other yet. They paused their chewing, looking at each other guiltily.
"Happy Christmas, Miss Granger." Mr. Malfoy was the first one to come to his senses. He inclined his head. "Happy Christmas to all of you."
"Indeed," Draco spoke up, lifting his fancy glass that contained milk in it. "Thank you, Hermione, for joining us on this fine Christmas morning."
Mr. Malfoy rolled his eyes at Draco's sappiness, but Mrs. Malfoy voiced a verbal agreement and lifted up a glass that matched Draco's, only she had chosen grape juice to drink. "Yes, thank you for being here with us today, Miss Granger." She gave her husband a pointed look who looked to have given a defeated sigh.
"Thank you, Miss Granger," he drawled as he, too, lifted his glass, giving her a toast.
Hermione held up her empty glass (she hadn't filled it with anything yet). "Thank you for having me," she said, smiling. "It has honestly been a very lovely time, and I appreciate all your hospitality."
After breakfast, owls started to arrive with many Christmas wishes and gifts for the Malfoys and Hermione. As always, Hermione received books as gifts, enough to nearly fill an entire book shelf. This meant that when she got home, she'd have to transfigure a new shelf and then rearrange her collection of books(even though she had already done it a few months ago when she had gotten books for her birthday). She noticed that she had received a few copies that she had already owned (this happened to her more often than not). She was just going to donate them to the Hogwarts library, as she did any other time.
As everyone else was opening their own gifts from their friends, Hermione immediately wrote out thank you notes, and after asking Draco if she could borrow little Preetea (his owl), she sent them off to be delivered.
*/*
By nine AM, Scorpius was ready to have his first Christmas. They had all chosen to wait until he woke back up before they opened the gifts they had gotten each other.
Hermione brought Scorpius down to "The Christmas Room" (as she called it), and she and Draco sat down by the tree, with their little son near them.
Magically, they divided the gift boxes and bags into separate piles, each belonging to a different person. Now it was time to teach Scorpius how this all worked.
"Let him open ours first!" Mother said with bright, excited eyes.
"Alright, alright, let's open up Grandfather and Grandmother's first then," Draco said to his son. He and Hermione showed Scorpius how to rip the wrapping paper.
"Das!" Scorpius laughed at the sound of the ripping paper, giggling uncontrollably. Mother hovered above, recording the whole thing with Draco's ClickCap.
Mother and Father had gotten Scorpius a pile of reading books for magical children. Scorpius squealed in delight, and Hermione curiously look over the ones she never even know existed, pointing out pictures to the baby. Scorpius slapped at the books excitedly.
Then it was time for Hermione's gift to Scorpius. She had gotten him a disgusting set of lion pajamas (complete with a tail and mane). Draco thought it was atrocious, but Scorpius was thrilled by it and fingered the silky mane with interest.
Draco got his son some building toys that magically changed their shape every so often, to make things more challenging for him. They were normally for toddlers a bit more older than Scorpius was, but Draco knew his son was a brilliant kid, and he would need the added exercise for his ever developing mind.
Scorpius also got lots more new clothes and toys from his parents and grandparents. His godparents sent him over something too, in which Draco couldn't help mocking at. It was a blue painted wooden box, nearly big enough for Draco to climb into. According to the note Potter had left for Hermione to read after the box had enlarged itself upon opening the gift, it was something that both Albus and James loved playing in. Father doubted this was going to entertain Scorpius as much as Draco did, but Scorpius had to prove them wrong by crawling into it and expressing his love for it by smacking at the sides of the box, screeching out in glee.
The last gift for Scorpius was what both Draco and Hermione gotten for the three of them. They had picked out the gift together. It was an ornament to go on the Christmas tree for many years to come. They had had it custom made, whittled out of wood and hand painted.
Mother thought it was breathtaking as she studied the ornament that was a replicate of Draco, Hermione, and Scorpius having a sleigh ride in the snow. Engraved on the side of the sleigh was the mark of their bond. The green marking of it stood out well against the red painted sleigh.
"It's beautiful," Mother whispered. "And has incredible meaning."
"We thought it was perfect too," Draco said, and helped Scorpius hang it on the tree.
Then the adults exchanged their presents. Draco had gotten his father a few DVDs to add to his collection. He had gotten Mother a few specially made candle waxes for a hobby that she had mentioned a couple weeks ago that she had wanted to try.
For Hermione, Draco had given her three different books about House-elves, books that he had thought she had been needing to read for a while, and now with her wanting to campaign for their rights, this just gave him an excuse to have her read them. He also got her something more personal, even though he knew she would like the books more. He held up the silvery otter (the form of her patronus) hair barrette.
"Oh, it's just so beautiful!" she gasped out, taking it from him so she could look at it. It had been dipped in silver glitter and two spinel gems made up the eyes, twinkling red when the light hit it just right. "I love it," she said, smiling and handing it back so he could put it in her hair.
Gracefully, he clipped it on. It acted more as a decoration than anything, since Hermione already had her hair tied up behind her head, but it was a nice accessory to have in her hair.
"Thank you." She lightly pecked his cheek with a kiss.
"You're welcome," Draco said, squeezing her hand.
Hermione had gotten him some books he had never heard of before. She told him that they were from the Muggle world. Some of them he wasn't quite sure of, but there was one book that did pique his interest a little. Apparently, Muggles were creating new species of plants using science. It fascinated him that they were taking an apple tree and a peach tree and 'infusing' them together, making a different tree all together. Some Herbologists had tried doing something similar, but only a very few had been successful, but reading that the Muggles were trying to do the same thing definitely interested him.
Draco's parents had given him an endless amount of gifts, including clothing, books, DVDs, and sweets. They had gotten Hermione her very own ClickCap which she happily informed that she had been thinking of getting one herself, and was relieved to have waited before she bought one.
Lastly, was the gift that Draco and Hermione had put together for his parents. It had been Hermione's idea, and Draco had loved it. He just hoped it was good enough for them.
He cleared his throat uneasily, handing the wrapped package to his mother. "This was Hermione's idea," he murmured quickly to Mother, tossing his girlfriend a wary look, who crossed her arms after over-hearing him, knowing he was implying blame to her if they didn't like it.
Mother smiled just the same. "Then, I'm sure it's a thoughtful gift indeed."
Draco nodded in agreement. Thoughtful it was, but definitely not pricy... It didn't cost them hardly anything, and that's what he was worried about.
Mother unearthed a green and blue swirl coloured book and curiously opened it. "Oh my," she whispered. Her lips stretched out across her face. "This is amazing! Look Luci!" But Father was already leaning over her shoulder in his own curiosity of it.
"What is that?!" Father demanded suddenly, pointing to a specific area on the page. Hermione let out a weak chuckle. "Draco did that," she tattled.
"You took a picture of me while I was sleeping?" Father narrowed his eyes at Draco, looking as if he had just blabbed out his deepest, darkest secret.
Draco laughed. "I couldn't help it! You and Scorpius looked so cute together!"
"Look!" Mother gasped in excitement. "There's me trying to feed Scorpius!"
"Trying being the key word," Father drawled playfully, already having had forgotten what Draco had done. "I remember that," he chuckled. "I think he wanted to have a food fight more than anything!"
"And here's a picture of Draco's reaction to Scorpius spitting up on him!" Mother laughed.
"There's also one of Draco's horrid face after getting peed on," Hermione supplied. "Page fifteen!"
Draco groaned. "I told you that I only wanted pictures involving Scorpius in the photo album, Hermione!"
"She knew what we'd want. Right Luci," Mother said cheerfully.
Father chuckled again. "It is a pretty humorous photo, Draco. Thank you, you two. This is a wonderful gift."
"You're welcome!" Hermione said, pleased with herself in having Father say such a thing to her (even if it involved Draco in the mix).
Draco let out a sigh of relief. They liked the photo album with pictures of Scorpius with his parents and grandparents. He was grateful for that. Draco certainly didn't want to disappoint his parents on Christmas.
"Happy Christmas," he said happily. "Thank you all for being a part of my life."
His wish was echoed around the room, and Hermione and Draco went around to the back of the sofa to reminisce over the first six months of Scorpius's life while the baby played by himself with his mountain of new toys.
"Oh, you just must sing, Draco!" Mother pleaded with shining eyes.
Draco groaned. "Must I?" he asked childishly. Why did she always have to embarrass him? And he really didn't like singing. He sounded like such a girl!
"Oh, I would love to hear you sing," Hermione chimed, wearing a teasing smirk.
Draco pointed a finger at her. "No," he growled.
"Please, Draco?" Mother asked.
Draco shut his eyes to avoid his Mother's puppy-dog face she would do when she wanted him to do something that he flat out refused.
"It's tradition, son." Father's voice weaseled into his head.
"Oh, you wouldn't want to break such a lovely tradition!" Mother added excitedly.
"Fine," Draco seethed. "But one song! Then you all have to sing with me! Including you!" he said to Hermione, who blushed shyly.
"Oh, I don't—"
"If I have to, you do too!"
"Sounds like a swell rule," Mother said, getting up from the sofa. "This way." She gestured to everyone to follow her. Draco went over to pick up his son, grabbing up a stuffed bat that he was currently having a conversation with.
"Derbla!" Scorpius said before his attention went back to the toy.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked when they had all filed out into the hallway.
"To the piano," Draco answered in a matter-of-fact. "Father's going to play it while we sing."
"He is?" Hermione was shocked.
"I am," Father simply spoke up behind them.
After a lengthy walk, they entered into a large room with a piano, fluffy furniture to sit in, and a fireplace with a crackling, roaring fire. They all circled around the piano as Father sat on the bench and wiggled his fingers in preparation.
"Song choice?" he asked Draco.
" 'Do You Hear What I Hear?' " Draco said after a quick thought, and his father gave a nod before he began playing. Then Draco sang the bloody song to make his mother happy. When he was finished, he announced that they all sing We Three Kings, saying he'd sing the first verse, father could join him on the second, then Mother and Hermione could join them in the chorus.
Scorpius even sang with them, though he spoke no real words, but he had fun just the same. They sang a few more songs, as Draco was enjoying himself when Scorpius had started singing, finding that incredibly priceless.
After seven songs, Father declared that his fingers were cramping, and so they stopped. It was tea time anyway, as Pipsy had been kindly waiting for them to finish their last song so she could serve it.
*/*
"You sing really well," Hermione complimented when they had returned to the Gordin Manor. They had survived their week stay at Draco's parents, and Draco thought it had been fairly pleasant, considering.
"Yes," he agreed, taking the suitcase that contained all of their things that she had packed for them to their bedroom.
"You should do it more often. I'd love to hear you sing more!"
"Gah!" Scorpius added his opinion.
Draco snorted. "No," he said firmly. "I only sing for my mother, and only on Christmas, and maybe her birthday— sometimes."
"But why?" Hermione asked. "You have a very nice voice."
"I sound like a bloody school girl!" Draco grumbled. He set the suitcase on their bed and took his wand out of his suit to snap the suitcase open with a spell, which sent the items levitating into the air and then flying into all different directions. Scorpius, who Hermione had set on the floor to crawl around, squealed in delight, watching the items put themselves away.
"You sound so lovely though!" Hermione argued.
Draco gave her a look. "Oh, That's just what every man wants to hear!" He rolled his eyes. "How lovely their voice sounds when they sing!"
She sighed and sat on the bed, watching Scorpius busy himself with peering under the bed. "So... what was so special about your mother's snowglobe?" She changed the subject, as if the thought had just entered her mind.
Draco cleared his throat and looked away. Suddenly, his shirt felt like it was strangling him. He loosened his tie and pulled at the collar of his shirt. "It's... not something I'm ready to discuss..." he said uneasily, avoiding her eyes.
"Okay..." Her response was unsure and quite curious, but she respected his answer and didn't ask about it again. He was relieved. The snowglobe was a special thing. Something he didn't want to spoil for her.
The next morning, Preetea delivered a letter to Draco in the middle of breakfast. Hermione's spoon clattered down to her bowl as Draco held out a slice of an apple to his companion.
"So, that's what he eats!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, so?" Draco wasn't sure why she was making such a big deal out of it.
"I've tried all sorts of meats, and he never takes them! I've never seen an owl refuse a piece of bacon before!"
Draco chuckled. "Preetea is a vegetarian," he informed, petting his owl's silky feathers.
"Really?" She was in absolute shock by the announcement. "You mean, she doesn't even hunt?"
"Oh, she hunts, but she doesn't eat what she catches."
"But then... what does she do with her killings? Surely she doesn't just let them die for nothing?"
Draco focused his sole attention on the letter he had received. Noticing who the addressee was, he hugged the envelope to his chest and stood up. He shrugged. "I don't know what she does with her catches. I've never given it much thought."
"Where are you going?" Her voice came from behind him as he left his unfinished breakfast to exit the room, wanting to read his letter in private.
"Nowhere," he said distantly, ripping open the envelope with a mild eagerness.
Dear Flamethrower,
Your latest idea is extremely brilliant! After thorough testing and variations, we've come up with a few prototypes that we plan to put on the shelves after the New Year's. We believe we'll make buckets of Galleons with this epic creation of yours. We have even contacted the company that partners with Bertie Botts for his jelly bean flavourings, hoping for a partnership of our own. This will broaden the product beyond what we can even imagine!
We'll let you know either way! Keep your eyes crossed!
—George Weasley
P.S. We're going to launch the product in a new brand name called "The Flamethrower"! Let us know what you think about that. We feel we owe it to you, plus it's just a pretty wicked name, don't you think?!
Draco smirked to himself and cast a spell on the letter so only his eyes could read it. It was too great to rip it up and throw it away. He didn't want anyone else to know who the true identity behind "The Flamethrower" was. No one knew besides him (and Preetea, obviously) anyway.
And he liked it that way. At least for now. Once "The Flamethrower" was a popular brand, then maybe he'd reveal himself.
Maybe.
For now, he'd just be happy with admiring his brilliant, anonymous ideas being made into reality.

Review Responses since the Last Update:
ssdawning: Weren't they just so cute? I hate to disapppoint you, but they aren't going to "tie the knot" before the New Year :(
Trelweny : I am sorry to hear about your loss. How tragic! :( Lucius is just old fashion though! Everyone does things differently.
Meeshs Wand: Wow, you must have spent HOURS reading up to this far, heh (it's almost 100k words up 'til here).
JaxPendragon: Because he broke the curse (and is half-blood), when he's an adult, he'll be able to produce more than one son, unlike his father and grandfathers.
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Let There Be No More Curse