At the head of a small meager dinner table sat a pudgy man with a face that resembles that of an old boar hog. The eyebrows on the man sat high on his forehead and his eyelids seemed rather small, making him look at though his eyes might pop right from their sockets at any given moment. The portly man’s wide, upturned, flat nose only aided in his piggy-like appearance. As he tore the meat from a turkey leg he tried speaking through his full mouth.
“Have you spoke with her,” he bellowed as bits of turkey meat fell to his large belly along with other crumbs from his meal.
“Yes father,” answered the second man. “And I have taken the Malfoy boy without incident, for insurance,” he peeked across the table wanting nothing more than to take a bit of dinner from the man.
The larger man noticed the snooping of his hungry son. “Oh, for the love of Salazar Slytherin, grow a backbone son, sit, eat a meal, and tell me more. You know, your sister may have left us but she has more guts than you will ever have. She is the one we should worry about and watch.”
Before the son could begin revealing the details of the meeting with his sister a stately woman entered the room, taking her place opposite the portly man. She was a woman of great beauty and poise. She sat just on the edge of her seat with her back quite straight, head held high. As she delicately placed her napkin into her lap she looked up at the younger of the two men. “The Malfoy boy has been taken care of, no need to worry about him.”
Draco slowly opened his eyes to see a ceiling made of old floorboards and dust falling from between the cracks. The smell of decaying fish filled the small room that seemed to be a basement of some sorts. Sitting up slowly, he began to look around, a fishing net filled with dried seaweed hung on one wall beside a string of large corks.
He tried to gain his bearings and squinted to see with what little light was available. Light fought to stream in from around the edges of the ceiling, sending smalls beams of hazy light his way. He ran the tips of his fingers delicately over the walls in order to aid him in his exploration of the room. Remembering what had happened at his place wasn’t the hard part; it was remembering what happened thereafter that was so hard. He knew it had been awhile since his capture as he could feel the grinding of his stomach. He worried desperately about what had happened to Daisy and the children and he hadn’t the foggiest idea who was holding him. He had nothing, what did they want with him.
Draco ran into a chair, stumbling to maintain his balance he slid it to the largest crack he could see in the ceiling corner. On tiptoe, he leaned to see what he might see. He made out what seemed to be a dock and water as far as the eye can see. The smell of salt water and fish was the strongest here. A creaking of the floorboards from overhead followed by a shower of dust startled him and soon thereafter made him reach for his eyes to protect them from the dust storm. Muffled voices came from the same direction of the creaking floor. Quickly he jumped from the chair and moved it to see if he might hear anything from above.
The morning sum shone in brightly across the bed causing Daisy to turn and bury her face in her pillow. She didn’t want to face another day without Draco. Yes, he was a git at times and lost his temper on occasion, but he wasn’t nearly as bad as she had heard. The stories of his school days mad him sound horrible. Then again, he confirmed it himself, he had been that bad.
Every time she looked into the eyes of her children, as they asked for their daddy, she felt her heart sink a little deeper. How would she explain to them that their own mother was responsible for their father’s disappearance? That her family had taken the only other family the children had ever known and she had no idea if he would be returned at all, much less alive.
The Weasley’s had been a great help and made her feel like she was one of them. Harry and Ginny had opened their home to her and her children, but what would she do if Draco never came back. She began to cry and bit into her pillow wanting nothing more than to hurt someone or something. She would like to scream until she used every ounce of energy that remained in her body. And thanks to the sleeping drought that Ginny had purchased for here, she had a bit of energy left.
A knock from the door brought her back to reality and she sat up abruptly. “Yes,” She said loudly.
“Daisy, we have begun breakfast and we will be leaving for the pitch soon thereafter. The children are dressed and ready, so when you are ready we will be off.”
Daisy was greatly appreciative beyond words for Ginny’s help. She had taken to helping her with the children in order for her to get more rest. Ginny said it was only practice for her. She needed all the help she could get to get her ready for a child that contained both Weasley and Potter blood.
“I will be ready before you know it. And I will have just a bit of toast so don’t worry about me,” Daisy shook her head and smiled at the attention that Ginny paid her.
“Hermione, you did owl Neville about today’s game, didn’t you?” Ron yelled from the shower.
“Oh course, you have only reminded me thirty or so times,” Hermione had grown tired of his constant nagging. She thought he sounded much like a child that was about to embark on their first day at Hogwarts. She had been given strict orders to contact all their old friends from Hogwarts to invite them to their first match that would take place this afternoon. Normally, she would not have taken to ‘orders’ very kindly, however she couldn’t help be proud to do so. They were good and she missed watching them play.
Ron walked out from the bathroom drying his hair with one towel while another was rapped around his waist, watering still dripping from him. “Great,” He dropped the towel he had been drying his hair with and took Hermione into his arms, kissing her. “I feel like a kid again, this is going to be fun.”
“Yes dear, although I do not care to take another shower, would you mind drying yourself off completely and getting dressed,” She pushed him away from her with a laugh at the sight of him. His hair fell into his eyes and drops fell one by one onto his nose. He laughed, leaning in closer to her, and shaking his head to throw water in her direction.
“A little water never hurt anyone,” Ron chased her like they were children again.
Hermione reached down to take the towel Ron had used on his hair, taking an end in each hand she began to twist in into a long tight, wet rope. “I am warning you Ron Weasley, if you take one more step I will leave a mark on you that will be the color of that wet mop on your head,” She snapped the towel once as a warning and twisted up again quickly.
“You haven’t the skill to catch the current keeper of the newest Quidditch team in the league,” He cackled at her. “So, be a good little wife and put the towel down.”
“Not a chance, hotshot,” She drew an imaginary line on the floor in front of her. “Come on, Mr. Keeper make my day,” A playful-like evil look fell onto her face. “You should know better than most that I can hold my own.”
Ron moved his mouth, mimicking her words, like a child would another. He hopped from one foot to the other as he did so. “Oh, so think you can take me on, now do you? We’ll come on then,” He stopped bouncing and enunciated the ending of his sentence as he stepped forward across the imaginary line Hermione had drawn with her toe. “Little Girl.”
Without a single word and with all her might Hermione pulled the towel tight and snapped it forward, hitting Ron just on the calf of his right leg. When the towel made contact a loud POP echoed for a moment as she widened her eyes with shock. He jumped back a bit, looking at his leg and then at her. She had done it. He couldn’t believe that she had actually done it. And it hurt at that.
He quickly lunged forward and tried snatching the towel from her but she was ready. Hermione ran around the room but wasn’t’ quite quick enough. Ron leapt forward and picked her up from behind. While she kicked and wiggled he carried her to the bed and threw her to it like a sack of potatoes.
He pinned her to the bed beneath him and grinned. “Well, well, well, look what we have here. A LITTLE GIRL with a big mouth.”
“Ron, you best let me up this instance,” She tried desperately to free her arms that were underneath his knees.
“Now wait a minute, you wanted to play with the big kids. So, you can face the consequences like a big kid,” He let her fight to release herself for a moment. “Now, what to do with you, I could return the favor and give you a nice whelp to match to one you gave me. But then again, I could come up with something better.”
“Ron, come on now, we have things to do. We need to get to your parent’s house so that we can get on to the pitch for the game,” She tried reasoning with him.
He laughed a deep laugh. “They can wait, besides we have plenty of time,” He then bent forward and allowed the water from his forehead to drip to hers. She tried even harder to get up. “Don’t like that now do you,” He looked his leg as it grew redder and redder by the minute.
“Ron that was just a love tap,” She tried convincing him.
“If that was a love tap then I’m Mad-Eye Moody,” He ran his hand over his leg. “Take a look at that. But, okay,” He leaned down again, this time kissing the end of her nose, then her left cheek, right cheek, her chin and so on. “I’ll let you off this time, but remember next time you will be sporting a matching mark and I promise you it will be much larger than the one you gave me.”
Ron rolled over allowing her to get up. Hermione sat up brushing the hair from her face, smiling. “Well, if that doesn’t wake someone up then I don’t know what will,” She leaned closer to him causing him to jump in defense of himself. “Okay, okay I’m done, I just wanted a real love tap,” And she kissed him before jumping from the bed.
Ron just shook his head, saying ‘women’ to himself as she walked out of the room.
Harry sat at the table with the children, trying to ensure more food ended up in their mouth than on the floor or each other when Daisy walked into the room. Ginny had her wand out removing the empty dishes from the table and placing them into the tub of water in the sink to set to washing themselves.
“Good morning, are you two giving Harry and Ginny a hard time this morning,” Daisy asked the children as she picked a slice of toast from the table.
“Uhuh, Mommy,” Granger answered as Winnie shook her head yes.
“They are just being children,” Harry defended.
“Well, it’s good to see they are having a good time. So, how is the day set to go,” Daisy asked, thinking this day would help her to keep her mind occupied.
“We will meet at Mom and Dad’s and then we will all be off to the pitch for the first match, today is history in the making my dear Daisy,” Ginny was happy for her family and although she was ecstatic to be carrying Harry’s baby, she would like to be on the pitch as well.
“I have heard on the Wizarding Wireless Network that Harry Potter has gone back to playing Quidditch,” The woman her husband.
When Draco heard that he thought he would never be found. He had always told Daisy that is anything had ever happened to him to go straight to Harry. He didn’t care to hear anymore at the moment and slid down the wall to think about what he should do next. But he couldn’t help but go back to Harry. He just couldn’t believe that Harry would leave the Ministry to play Quidditch. Something had to be up, but what could it be, and then again what if Daisy was never able to get to Harry or anyone else for that matter.
Draco began to think about what he could possibly do to get out of here. He had a strange feeling that if he didn’t do something quick he wouldn’t make it out alive. He had never been so hungry in his life. The creaking of a door quickly followed by a stream of light allowed him to see a woman enter closely followed by a short portly man carrying a wand pointed in his direction. The man was the one to speak as the woman set down a plate of food.
“Mr. Malfoy, I have been waiting a long time to meet you,” He paused looking him over. “I haven’t a clue what my daughter saw in you, but she was always the strange one in our family.”
“Your daughter,” Draco questioned as he stood up quickly from the chair. “What in the hell is going on here?”
The man snickered. “You aren’t in the best position to be making any demands my good sir.”
But Draco hadn’t heard anything else. How could Daisy be this man’s daughter? She was an orphan, or so she says.
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