Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Wait	By : Meggie Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 2046 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for the fantastic reviews! I really am quite honored by your attention to my story.

P.S. Lucius will reappear, I promise.

Chapter 9
He was still my cousin…

His first sensatwas was a crippling pain in his head, followed by a vague sensation of nausea that was, unfortunately, growing more and more concrete as the seconds passed. Ron groaned, rolling out of bed and tripping over the scattered clothes and magazines that adorned the bare floor as he stumbled quickly across the bedroom and into the tiny bathroom adjacent. He wretched, feeling his stomach twist inside him and groaned again, regretting deeply the night before and all the rum he had drunk. His fel felt clammy as his fingers brushed too-long locks of hair off of his forehead. Ron groaned again, sitting slowly on the bathroom floor and wondering painfully why he did this to himself night after night.

"Its because you miss her, isn’t it?" The voice came from across the bedroom, and Ron jerked his head quickly to see who was standing there. Harry slipped out of the chair he was sitting in, wearing his white Auror’s robes adorned with the traditional crimson sash. The sight made Ron feel even more useless. Harry Potter, a respected auror, and his best friend, Ron Weasley, sick on the floor.

Ron looked down at his pale hands, long spindly fingers, and short ragged nails. "Not anymore," he said with a sigh. "I still love her. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that, but—" he hesitated, sighing, and looked back up at Harry. "—Its more than that, now. I feel… I’m useless, Ha" He" He looked around, waving his hand in the general direction of the rest of his flat, pausing in his speech a moment to fight another wave of nausea. "I have a job that is effectively leading me nowhere, a ratty one-room flat that wouldn’t impress a beggar---" He sighed. "I need a new track, Harry. It isn’t Diana anymore."

Harry hesitated, then made his way over and offered Ron a hand up before pulling a vial of potion out of his robe sleeve. "Its from Hermione," he said quietly, "to help you get over your hangover." Ron smiled in thanks and downed the potion in one gulp. He leaned against the bathroom sink and ran a hand through his hair. Harry hesitated, still watching his best friend in concern. "So if it isn’t Diana, then you don’t mind her marrying Draco?"

Ron looked up at Harry, narrowing his eyes slightly in thought. For a moment, he looked angry, eyes tinged green with a tangible veil of jealousy. Then he softened. "Don’t get me wrong, Harry. I still hate the little prat, but…" he paused again, looking reluctant to speak. "…but if Diana’s happy, then I guess… then I guess this is what I want for her. I don’t like it, and I don’t know what she’s thinking, but if she’s happy…" he sighed again. "That’s what’s important." He looked up at Harry, seeming for a momin tin the dim light of the bathroom to be a child again, fourteen and burning with an inner desire to be someone, to do something important. "I don’t want to be poor, Harry," his voice came as a whisper. "I saw what it did to my parents, I saw the regret in their eyes when they couldn’t afford to buy us real clothing or new brooms. I don’t want that to happen to me, or to my children." He smiled lopsidedly. "As if anyone would ever want me."

Harry remained silent for a moment in light of this new development, quietly contemplating the consequences of this confession. "I understand, Ron," he said after a moment, his voice soft. "And I think I can help you."

Ron looked up at him, fiery red hair falling back from his face. "You can?" His eyes were hopeful, his face reflecting a tense anticipation.

Harry smiled, nodding and pulling a silver chain out of his sleeve, extending his hand and placing it in Ron’s hand. Ron felt his hand grow heavy, then cautiously reached out to turn the pendant over with his free hand. "Harry, is this--?"

He shrugged. "Its on a probationary basis, you understand. My superiors don’t like it." He flashed a grin. "But we’re out an auror, and I need a partner."

Ron looked up at Harry, eyes wide in absolute ecstasy. "Harry, I don’t know what to say."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "You can start by saying you’ll take the job." He grinned again, turning and starting out the door. "Now get dressed. I’ve got some work to do and I want to give you the tour."

***

Abby was inspecting the third floor room directly overlooking the master bedroom's balcony. It was a dusty and disused room that was now apparently being used for storage, as it was filled with stacks of ebony wooden chairs and tables of varying sizes and colors. In one corner an ordinary broom stood, gathering dust. Apparently it had once been charmed to sweep on its own,everevery once in a while it shivered from handle to bristles and made one or two feeble twitches.

The window was the only portion of the room that was sparkling clean, and Abby could understand why the house elves would choose to clean this. It was a cathedral-style round stained glass window, brilliantly shining in deep reds, greens, blues, and golds. She stopped to appreciate the design for a moment, a single crimson rose, thornless, with a twisting stem emerging and blossoming emerald leaves which framed the lower half of the picture. This was backed by a bright azure sky interrupted by a golden sunset.

"I wonder," she murmured in awe to herself, "how such a beautiful thing could exist in such a horrid house."

"Its not so horrid anymore." Draco's voice made her start and spin swiftly to face him. He was leaning casually against the door, all in black save for his pale skin andr. Hr. His eyes were deeply shadowed, and he seemed filled with remembrance. "It was, years ago, a dark house filled with ugliness." he narrowed his eyes slightly, straightening and taking a few steps forwards. "You could put your hand to the wall and feel the screams of the souls who died here. Their suffering thickened the air and their twisted bodies crowded your mind when you tried to sleep." Abby watched him silently, voice caught stubbornly in her throat as she listened to him k.
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