HP9: Stone of Life- Chapt. 2

MAJOR DH SPOILER ALERT!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T YET (AND EVENTUALLY INTEND ON) READING HP7!!!

The following is a Harry Potter slash fanfic -- The following contains mature, adult materials not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. If you find such sexually themed materials offensive please do not read on! All characters and names are copyright J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Inc. and Warner Bros. Entertainment.

Ship(s): Harry/Draco
Type: (M/M) Gay
Chapter Rating: PG-13

------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2

Judging by the raspberries the blue-hair infant was blowing as he threw bits of cake and frosting around the room, no one would guess that not even a year earlier had he lost every blood relative had had. Teddy Lupin, the metamorphmagus son of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks turned one year old today. In the course of his short life, he had lost his mother, father, grandfather, and most recently his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks.

Earlier that morning everyone had bounced back and forth between contemplative grief and awkward smiles, but now that everyone had arrived at the Burrow for the party, all that was left were genuine smiles. No one who ever stayed in Teddy’s presence could stay sad, for his toothy grin and bubbly personality was completely contagious. What had started as a day of mourning had turned into one of joyful reminiscence.

“I don’t know who McGonagall is going to get to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position after 18 years of that curse,” Ginny said through giggles, “but I don’t think we will ever have a professor that did better than Lupin.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, laughing also. As if on cue, Teddy smashed his palms into his scalp, mixing white and yellow frosting with his bright blue hair, making his looking like some sort of exotic confection. Everyone broke into renewed peals of laughter as the loud snapping sound of Mr. Weasley taking a photo of the baby echoed through the small room.

“Oohh, that’s a keeper!” Mrs. Weasley said, clapping her hands happily.

Everyone broke into separate conversations with each other, the level of chatter at a decent roar. Harry looked nervously down at his watch, the very same one that Mrs. Weasley had given him almost two years earlier for his seventeenth birthday. It had taken quite some time to figure out how to read a watch that had no numbers or clear indication of time as muggles were familiar with it, but Harry was sure of one thing as he peered at its face.

Draco was late. Harry was frustrated that given the tentative relationship he had with all of Harry’s friends and adopted family, he had hoped Draco would make an effort not to be ‘fashionably late’ as he usually was. Draco was just as bad as dating a woman – he took just as long, if not longer, to get ready to go out, and was just as difficult to get out of the house with any semblance of punctuality about him. Of course, Draco would never admit to this as being a bad thing.

“I wouldn’t want people thinking they are important enough to merit the punctuality of a Malfoy, that would ruin all the hard work my family has done to establish superiority in the Wizarding community.” Draco would say as he straightened out one of the cuffs on his perfectly tailored dress robes. Harry shot the pompous blonde a scathing look of disapproval to which Draco would grin impishly and just shrug. Harry told himself that he was mostly joking to soothe his conscience.

Harry’s occasional doubts regarding the integrity of his boyfriend injuring his continuously delicate reputation were usually squelched quickly, in about as much time as it took for the two of them to fall into bed together. If there was one thing in the world that Draco Malfoy had a reason to be arrogant about, it was his admittedly superior skills in the bedroom.

“You okay?” Hermione said, barely above a whisper, but still loudly enough to jolt Harry out of his daydream.

“Hm… wha? Oh… Yeah, m’fine.” Harry muttered. “Draco’s late.”

Hermione opened her mouth, about to speak. “Fuck ‘em” Ron interrupted her before she got the chance; the phrase came out surprisingly clearly through an overly large mouthful of birthday cake. Ron’s expression made painfully clear his continued disdain for Draco’s slow, yet steady invasion into their circle of, supposedly, trusted friends.

Hermione shot Ron an angry look, but chose not to dignify his remark with any other response. “He’ll be here, Harry. He wouldn’t miss a chance to get to see you. Don’t worry.” She said, trying to comfort him.

Harry looked up at her, still pulling himself out of his thoughts. His voice was soft as he spoke. “Me, no, but he would gladly miss the torture of sitting through Mr. Weasley babbling on about muggles.”

Hermione had already turned away, but spun back around at the muffled sound of Harry’s voice. “What was that, Harry?”

“Nothing.” Harry said, quickly, thinking better of repeating himself in the present company.

Neville looked at the three of them questioningly, clearly curious to know what the hushed conversation was about, but not willing to be so rude as to ask them what they were talking about.

“So!” Mrs. Weasley raised her voice above the sound of everyone speaking. “There are so many big changes this year!” She said, her voice filled with excitement over the promise of a quieter year than the last eight had been. Harry knew better than to assume his life would ever again rival anything even approaching what someone might consider ‘quiet’ or ‘normal’. “Dean, dear, what are your plans this year?”

Dean Thomas was sitting next to Ginny, eating cake, albeit much more slowly than Harry, Hermione, or Ron. He was far too busy, it seemed, shooting Ginny googly-eyes over their glasses of milk. He was startled out of his lust-induced stupor by Mrs. Weasley’s sudden question. He looked, panicked, up at her with a look that suggested he thought he had been doing something wrong. Harry snickered to himself as he considered the real possibility that the only thing Dean had done ‘wrong’ was thinking dirty thoughts about the youngest Weasley in the ‘presence’ of her parents.

Ron looked perplexed at Dean’s expression, Hermione tisked quietly, and Ginny blushed deeply as she continued to hide behind her glass.

“Oh, well,” Dean said, swallowing nervously as if he was still expecting to be caught. “I am going to be going to school at the Ministry in London to get a job in the Department of Magical Gaming.” He said, looking anxiously at Mr. Weasley as if looking for his approval in this choice.

Ever since Harry and Ginny had split up during his last year at Hogwarts, Ginny and Dean had slowly, but surely, been getting closer and closer. He was glad to see her happy, and he knew that Dean always resented Harry for being her ‘first choice’, but by the looks of things he didn’t harbor that resentment any longer.

“It will be a long year without all my usual friends around.” Dean added, looking around the table, his eyes settling last on Ginny and lingering there for a moment.

Ron interjected tactlessly with no regard for Dean’s dramatic pause. “I’m taking up George’s offer to work at the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley, so he can work on opening a shop in Hogsmeade.” Ron smiled widely, revealing frosting covered teeth.
“Filch will like that…” George murmured loudly enough for everyone to hear him.

Harry, Ron, Dean, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Kingsley, and Mr. Weasley all chuckled. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley looked at the rest of them reproachably.
“Honestly, Ron, you could do so much better for yourself if you would just go and work at the ministry, or go to school!” Mrs. Weasley said, throwing her hands into the air, frustrated.

“Now really, Mum, if you think that my business sense is that useless I’ll gladly take back that set of dragon scale enforced pots I got you with the profits…” George said flippantly, not making eye contact with his mother. If he had been, the scalding look she gave him may have burnt his eyes out.

“I, well… You know what I mean!” She said indignantly before sitting back down again.

“Well,” Hermione said, glad to demonstrate her superior plans, “I’ll be traveling to America to go to school to work for the Department of Magical Law.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled politely. “That’s nice, dear. And what about you, Neville?”

Neville looked blankly back up at Mrs. Weasley before turning to look at Harry and Kingsley in turn. “I’m not sure yet.” He said sheepishly. Since destroying the final Horcrux at the end of their seventh year Neville had been a completely different person, and his current anxiety didn’t suit him anymore.
“Not sure?” Hermione asked in shocked dismay. Everyone was quiet and looked at Neville. Teddy’s bubbly giggle interrupted the awkward silence.

“Well,” Neville started, “I want to do what Harry’s doing. I’d like to become an Auror.”

“That’s awesome, Neville.” Hermione praised him. “You’d be a fantastic Auror.”

Suddenly, as if on cue, the door slammed shut, Draco’s form was silhouetted by the setting sun. The further into the room he walked the cleared his appearance became. He wore his typical superior, aristocratic expression and spoke down his nose to Neville. “An Auror? Longbottom?” He reiterated, as if he had heard incorrectly. “That would be a laugh. Can you even cast a basic disarming spell?” He asked, amused at the thought of Neville trying.

Harry dropped his head into his hands. Draco had quite the talent for causing people to instantly dislike him. Hermione only smiled a forced, polite grimace in response. “Well, I think after how admirably he fought during the Battle at Hogwarts, Neville has proved himself to actually be quite capable.” She shot Neville an approving look.

“Yes, I quite agree.” Luna perked up, speaking in her usually airy tones.

“Right,” Neville started, looking like a scared first year once again. “But the only problem is that I never passed all of the OWLs and NEWTs that I needed. Worst of all, because of Snape I never had a chance with Potions.”
It was Kingsley who finally spoke up as Draco squeezed himself into the chair across from Harry, looking at the worn, wooden furniture as if it harbored several deadly diseases. Harry doubted if Draco had ever seen any furniture that was as old or in such poor condition as the dining room set that the Weasley’s kept in their dining room.

“Well, Neville, I suspect I might be able to write an appeal for you?” Kingsley suggested. “Perhaps I could bring you the applications to fill out after work on Monday and write up a request for an appeal for Mr. Longbottom to submit at the same time?”

“That would be great!” Harry said.

“I don’t know…” Neville replied, still apprehensive.

“Don’t be silly.” Hermione said, patting Neville heartily on the back. “You should give it a try! If you don’t go you’ll always wonder if the appeal had been approved.” She smiled genuinely at him, ignoring Draco’s obviously un-stifled scoff.

Neville just nodded in assent. “Great.” Harry said, smiling, shooting Draco a warning glance, which Draco regarded with an aloof, raised eyebrow. Draco was good at playing dumb, but Harry knew that Draco knew perfectly well how good of a job he was doing to garner distrust and dislike from everyone else at the table.

Mrs. Weasley, ever the polite hostess, brought Draco a plate with an impossibly small slice of cake and scoop of ice cream, but not a fork. Draco was completely nonplussed by this, and graciously accepted it as she handed it to him. He simply plucked the fork Harry had been using from his now empty plate. Teddy continued to smash his hands into the cake he had, rub it liberally into his hair, and laugh.
“And what are your plans this year,” Mrs. Weasley paused to consider what name to call him by. “Draco?” At least by using his last name she could attempt to pretend that he wasn’t the son of Lucius Malfoy.

All eyes were on Draco. Unlike Neville, however, Draco thrived on being the center of interest and lavished in the attention as he dove into explaining his plans for school.

“Well, Molly,” Draco began, causing Ron and George’s cheeks to flush crimson at the fact that Draco chose to disrespectfully refer to their mother by her first name. Mrs. Weasley only flinched slightly before forcing herself to smile graciously as she continued to listen intently. “I’ll be leaving to go to Romania in a week for school. I’ve been accepted at the Cautator Institute in Romania into their Radiaþie program.”

Everyone looked at him blankly for no one had actually followed any of what he had just said. Harry looked at him imploringly, willing him to expand with his eyes. Draco sighed visible and rolled his eyes as he got the hint. “A Radiaþie is like an Auror.” Draco said. Harry half wished that Draco would stop his explanation there, but knew he would not be so lucky. “However, the standards, as you might imagine, are quite a bit higher than those the ministry requires. Unlike Aurors who use, often ineffectual, defensive magic and techniques to ward off the agents of evil, the radiaþie use offensive dark magic. They fight fire with fire.”

There was a palpable silence that was finally interrupted by the perpetually distant, aloof voice of Luna. “Oh, sounds dangerous.” She commented, as she pushed the remnants of frosting on her plate around in circles. Teddy giggled and launched a fistful of cake at Luna, which landed in her hair. “Oh… dear, I had better wash this out. Sugar attracts nargles, you know…”

Draco stifled a laugh, but no one else seems to find Luna’s antics terribly amusing in the wake of Draco’s unusual news. Surely, none of them had even heard of the Cautator Institute, or of radiaþies.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat loudly. “Well,” he said, trying to break the tension. “Ginny and Luna will be returning to Hogwarts for their last year.” Ginny nodded emphatically. “At least someone will be at the castle to be sure nothing goes to hell, eh?” Mr. Weasley added, addressing Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

“Now don’t go giving her ideas, Arthur.” Mrs. Weasley scolded him as she rounded the table and began to pick up empty plates to make herself busy. Harry’s head had yet again found its place buried in his hands.
The room went awkwardly silent again. “Presents!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, stunned by the genius of his own revelation that it would sufficiently distract everyone. “I think it’s time for presents!”

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as everyone threw themselves wholly into handing Teddy gifts and allowing him to unceremoniously tear the paper off them. Everyone put their bows on Teddy’s head and took a photo with all of them on at once. Harry was glad that Teddy’s first birthday party wouldn’t be remembered by Draco’s transgressions.

At the end of the evening when Draco asked Harry if he would like to spend the night with him he gratefully accepted. At least he wouldn’t have to immediately deal with everyone’s questions about Draco’s questionable future plans.