http://dragonofgrey.livejournal.com/ (
dragonofgrey.livejournal.com) wrote in
milliways_bar2007-07-13 10:40 pm
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Draco had spoken to Potter a while back, and Harry mentioned a secret. Something horrible and evil. One that's unspeakable and unforgiveable. Worse than Voldemort himself.
He steeled himself, and asked the Bar for some.
There was a note on a napkin, "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, just give them already." He scooped up the materials. If you listened closely, you could almost hear the distant voices of cackling evil laughter, and piercingly shrill squees of delight.
He carefully placed them on a table, and ordered a drink. Just from what Harry had said before, he knew he would need it.
Mr. Malfoy was learning about the evil that is HP fandom. (Though luckily, he's being spared the truly mind numbingly worse of the lot, because that's too much for most muns, much less the pup.)
Shortly into reading, there's a loud cry, "URRRGHHHH! I don't even LIKE HIM! And WHY AM I PREGNANT??"
He steeled himself, and asked the Bar for some.
There was a note on a napkin, "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, just give them already." He scooped up the materials. If you listened closely, you could almost hear the distant voices of cackling evil laughter, and piercingly shrill squees of delight.
He carefully placed them on a table, and ordered a drink. Just from what Harry had said before, he knew he would need it.
Mr. Malfoy was learning about the evil that is HP fandom. (Though luckily, he's being spared the truly mind numbingly worse of the lot, because that's too much for most muns, much less the pup.)
Shortly into reading, there's a loud cry, "URRRGHHHH! I don't even LIKE HIM! And WHY AM I PREGNANT??"
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And arches his eyebrows, also very slowly.
"... Mazel tov," he decides after a moment. A cheerful grin, bordering on 'manic.' "Who's the father?"
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"Potter in this one, but in another one it's Snape." He then threw down the papers.
"And I'm not really, it's these blasted horrible stories people wrote about me. What rubbish!"
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"Well, they do say wildly inaccurate fictionalization is the highest form of flattery."
There are some ruthless tabloid writers where this kid's from.
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And once again, an example of Draco is the incessant whining. Like right now. Also, they did get the shrieking part right. There were eyewitnesses in the bar who could and would attest to this.
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Mr. Universe's curiosity is piqued; the few tidbits that Draco has provided are tantalizing ones. He gets up, laptop and all, and comes around to try and get a look at what the kid's reading.
"If it's any consolation," he adds conversationally, "the entertainment industry really isn't all that worried about getting it right." A fond, long-suffering sigh. "The little scamps. They're almost as bad as the government."
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"Sounds like the Ministry of Magic. Don't know what they're doing most of the time either."
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"Have you been cursed?" the bright-eyed woman asks with a look of concern upon her ageless face.
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People had written stories about her as well. She knew where Draco was coming from.
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"Well, it's funny in stories where it's Longbottom getting stuck like that."
As long as it wasn't him.
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"I must admit..it does take a while to become used to such things. Tell me. Are they all that bad?"
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"Uh. Well, to answer your question, when a man and women love each other very much, and for some reason the laws of biology decide to work completely the opposite of how they're supposed to..." said a familiar somebody who was currently ghosted out.
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He then added bitterly, "And considering how some of these don't bother with a man and a woman, they clearly don't care about any sort of sense about such matters."
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He floated over to look over Draco's shoulder.
"...What in the heck is this stuff?"
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"Ew." A pause. "Isn't Snape one of your teachers?"
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He remarked, "Not that I would anyway. I have Mia now." Interesting tone and expression on his face now. It wasn't even like this with Wednesday.
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That's a strange thing to hear Draco say.
Mia is looking at her boyfriend with a very wide-eyed curious face.
Something like this: O.O
"And you didn't even tell me? How far along are you, dear?"
It's not said with much humor. It's more of grasping for sanity.
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Head goes down on the table with a loud "AAAAGH!!!!" And his face is probably as pink as she's ever seen it.
Somewhere amidst the papers and wooden surface, after a minute, there's a faint muffled cry, "It's not really me..."
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"Thank goodness. I'd hate to see you go through labor."
That might actually be worse than doing it herself.
"What in the world compelled you to say that, though? And after we had been so careful," she couldn't help adding.
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"It's these blasted stories. People supposedly writing about me, but they're completely wrong. And one of them has me somehow pregnant."
Thud, thud.
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"Don't do that. It's not doing you any good."
She eyes the stories cautiously.
"I suppose they would have to be completely wrong if you are the pregnant one."
Wait, what?
"Why are people writing stories about you?"
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