Elizabeth Culmer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
edenfalling) wrote2010-01-12 10:17 pm
edenfalling) wrote2010-01-12 10:17 pm
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[Fic] "New Horizons" chapter 2 -- Harry Potter
Back in August 2008, I started writing a short Ginny/Harry/Draco threesome fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
askerian that is, no lies, compliant with all HP canon, up to and including the epilogue of Deathly Hallows. In other words, middle-aged married people with grown children will be having sex in chapter 3 or 4. *grin*
I fail utterly at reasonable update speed, but anyway, here is chapter 2, clocking in at 1,600 words. (And here is a link to chapter 1, because I am quite sure nobody remembers it by now.)
---------------------------------------------
New Horizons: Chapter 2
---------------------------------------------
"This is a terrible idea," said Harry as Ginny dragged him out onto the balcony. "It's Malfoy. We can point and mock without exposing ourselves to his actual presence."
Ginny didn't even bother stifling her wicked grins these days; she just accompanied them with melodramatic sighs. "Pointing and mocking, Harry? For shame. You're supposed to tell me to be polite, not egg me on. Now hurry up -- I want to catch up on gossip and no matter how much he denies it, Draco Malfoy always knows the latest filthy rumors."
"Well, people will keep telling me their sob stories," said Malfoy, slouching against the sliding door of his hotel room. "I must have a wonderfully honest face."
Harry examined him, amused despite himself. "They must all be Confounded. You still look like a ferret to me."
Astoundingly, Malfoy threw back his head and laughed. "Potter, you have no idea how refreshing it is to have someone be nasty to my face. But I'm being rude unintentionally. Come in, sit down. Have a drink." He waved an unsteady hand at the two chairs dragged over near his unmade bed and the full bottle of vodka sitting on the night table. "Of course, you'll have to transfigure something into glasses -- I wouldn't trust myself with a wand just now."
Ginny eyed Malfoy appraisingly. "Sensible of you. Have you got any cranberry juice? Straight vodka's disgusting, even Grey Goose."
Malfoy just shrugged, wavered back to the bed, and slumped, cross-legged, with his bathrobe gaping open across his chest. "I wasn't particularly worried about flavor. If you don't want any, suit yourselves. Just make me a new glass to pay for the insults that I'm sure will be forthcoming."
It was bloody odd to see Malfoy this disheveled and uncaring about his public presentation. There wasn't any satisfaction in it, either -- too many years between Harry and the heat of his childhood anger, and anyway, he'd not been the cause of Malfoy's current funk. Harry took pity on him and changed the unused ashtray into a shot glass.
"Ta," said Malfoy, pouring himself a shot and knocking it back. He coughed, and then seemed to pull himself into proper focus for the first time, gray eyes cynical and knowing despite the alcoholic cushion.
"So. What do you really want to talk about?"
---------------
"Your son, mostly," said Ginny, before Harry could open his mouth.
"He's off in Norway, hunting imaginary creatures for Lovegood, as you well know," Malfoy answered. "I consider the business entirely your son's fault."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's true that Al trusts Jamie too much, but he has never made your son do a single thing that Scorpius didn't already want to do. I think it far more likely that your son wanted to get my baby away from his other friends so he'd get used to relying only on Scorpius."
She watched Draco through slitted eyes, wondering how he'd react to her insinuations.
They weren't quite lies, but they weren't exactly the truth, either. Al didn't make people do things. He made people want to do things, to please him. That had been one of Ginny's favored tactics as the youngest of seven children, so she could recognize it in her son's arsenal of tricks. She was certain that he was in Norway because he wanted to be there, and that Scorpius was there because he wanted Al to be happy.
The trouble was that Al might want to be in Norway because he thought it would make Scorpius Malfoy happy, and Scorpius might have ulterior motives for wanting Al to be happy.
Malfoy rolled his bloodshot eyes right back at her. "Liar," he said. "If we were talking about your daughter or your other son that might be vaguely believable, but Albus is just as Slytherin as Scorpius. Don't paint him as a precious ickle martyr; it won't wash."
Harry laughed. "Point to him, Ginny. I love Al to pieces, but if either one of the boys persuaded the other into their trip, it was Al." He walked over to one of the armchairs and sank into the cushions with a sigh. "But I think they're both being idiots and egging each other into stupid dares and adventures. I'm told it's what young men do when they aren't recovering from wars. James is certainly making a strong case for that scenario."
Ginny met Malfoy's eyes. After a moment, he shrugged and set his new shot glass on the nightstand. "Fair enough," he said. "I suppose there are definitely worse things for them to do than bugger around Norway looking for phantoms."
"Who knows, they might even find some," suggested Ginny, relenting and taking a seat in the other armchair. "Or they could lie creatively. That worked out fairly well for Gildeory Lockhart."
"Until he lost his memory," Harry pointed out, clasping her hand and lacing their fingers together.
Malfoy grinned like an alcoholic shark. "Oh, that's what you think. His books still sell like bloody hotcakes, and he finally pulled himself together enough to get released from St. Mungo's last year. He's writing a new autobiography -- hadn't you heard? It's meant to explain the whole Chamber of Secrets cock-up and then segue into an exposé of the dysfunctional medical system."
Harry looked disgusted. Ginny leaned forward, intrigued. "Do you think there's any truth to it? Most of his other books were about ninety percent true, except for the slight problem of the encounters actually happening to other people."
Malfoy shrugged. "How should I know? I donate to St. Mungo's, certainly, but Iris was the one who sat on all the boards and that nonsense. I haven't a clue what the hospital did with my money."
"That's irresponsible of you," said Harry, "but in any case, do you think we ought to tell Hermione? It seems the sort of crusade she'd be interested in."
"Yes," said Ginny, at the same moment that Malfoy said, "Oh, Merlin, no!"
They glared at each other.
"You know, this is going to get loud -- I can feel it in my bones," said Malfoy after a moment. "Give me five minutes to wash up and dress, and we can continue outdoors."
---------------
Draco spent three minutes in the shower, two minutes dressing, and another five minutes wondering precisely when he'd lost his mind.
"Probably when I started pickling it," he muttered, flicking his wand at his hair to dry it. He glanced at the mirror and scowled at the flyaway blond strands. Where the devil had he left his hair-tie? Why on earth had he thought growing his hair out was a good idea? His scowl deepened. And why was he so scared of facing the bloody Potters anyway? The worst they could do was laugh at him, and it wasn't as if he had to stay in this hotel, on this island, or even in this country. He could go be miserably drunk anywhere he wanted.
The trouble was, he didn't want to be miserably drunk. He just wanted to stop thinking about Iris and drinking seemed less drastically stupid than Obliviating himself.
And he was stalling again. "Fuck this noise." Draco pulled himself together and stomped along the balcony to the Potters' sliding windows. He knocked on the frame, then strode in.
"Not even a quarter hour," said Potter, checking his wristwatch. "I expected thirty minutes at least."
"I am not that much of a prima donna and I never was, either, so lay off and let's get out of this elf-forsaken place," Draco snapped. "I need to explain precisely why your wife is out of her mind if she wants to get Granger involved in any medical scandals."
"Oh, do let's," agreed Ginny with a sickeningly false air of sweetness. "I'm just dying to hear Malfoy pronounce truth to poor ignorant little me. He has such a vast expanse of moral high ground, don't you think?"
"Ginny, can we at least try to avoid bloodshed until we're somewhere a bit more isolated?" Potter asked in a strained tone.
"No," said Draco, and once again found himself speaking at the same moment as Ginny... except this time they weren't disagreeing. He gave her a suspicious look.
Potter had the temerity to laugh. "I should have known," he said as he ambled across the plush carpet of the hotel room and opened the door. "Neither of you ever did anything the sensible or easy way."
"As if you're one to talk," muttered Ginny, seizing her husband's arm with a proprietary air. She tugged him out of their room and down the corridor toward the stairwell.
Draco followed a half step behind and to the left, wondering what he thought of Potter's pronouncement. He, have things in common with a Weasley? His ancestors were undoubtedly rolling in their graves. On the other hand, she did have a certain verve and bite that so many people lacked.
Iris had been like that, too. Strange that he and Potter had such similar taste in women... except Ginny didn't seem in any hurry to ditch Potter for greener pastures. And what did it say about Draco, that he couldn't even keep a wife as well as Potter?
Draco shook his head to dislodge that thought and pushed ahead of the others, shoving open the door at the base of the stairs. "You want somewhere isolated? Then we'll skip the beach, but if we head west along the rocks for about ten minutes, we'll reach a nice, deserted cove with a ledge to sit down out of the spray. Follow me -- and if you drown or smash your head on the rocks, I disclaim all responsibility."
---------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 2
Return to Chapter 1
Continue to Chapter 3
Read the final version on fanfiction.net
---------------
So yeah, that's that. Perhaps chapter 3 will not take me a year and a half to write? *sheepish*
askerian that is, no lies, compliant with all HP canon, up to and including the epilogue of Deathly Hallows. In other words, middle-aged married people with grown children will be having sex in chapter 3 or 4. *grin*I fail utterly at reasonable update speed, but anyway, here is chapter 2, clocking in at 1,600 words. (And here is a link to chapter 1, because I am quite sure nobody remembers it by now.)
---------------------------------------------
New Horizons: Chapter 2
---------------------------------------------
"This is a terrible idea," said Harry as Ginny dragged him out onto the balcony. "It's Malfoy. We can point and mock without exposing ourselves to his actual presence."
Ginny didn't even bother stifling her wicked grins these days; she just accompanied them with melodramatic sighs. "Pointing and mocking, Harry? For shame. You're supposed to tell me to be polite, not egg me on. Now hurry up -- I want to catch up on gossip and no matter how much he denies it, Draco Malfoy always knows the latest filthy rumors."
"Well, people will keep telling me their sob stories," said Malfoy, slouching against the sliding door of his hotel room. "I must have a wonderfully honest face."
Harry examined him, amused despite himself. "They must all be Confounded. You still look like a ferret to me."
Astoundingly, Malfoy threw back his head and laughed. "Potter, you have no idea how refreshing it is to have someone be nasty to my face. But I'm being rude unintentionally. Come in, sit down. Have a drink." He waved an unsteady hand at the two chairs dragged over near his unmade bed and the full bottle of vodka sitting on the night table. "Of course, you'll have to transfigure something into glasses -- I wouldn't trust myself with a wand just now."
Ginny eyed Malfoy appraisingly. "Sensible of you. Have you got any cranberry juice? Straight vodka's disgusting, even Grey Goose."
Malfoy just shrugged, wavered back to the bed, and slumped, cross-legged, with his bathrobe gaping open across his chest. "I wasn't particularly worried about flavor. If you don't want any, suit yourselves. Just make me a new glass to pay for the insults that I'm sure will be forthcoming."
It was bloody odd to see Malfoy this disheveled and uncaring about his public presentation. There wasn't any satisfaction in it, either -- too many years between Harry and the heat of his childhood anger, and anyway, he'd not been the cause of Malfoy's current funk. Harry took pity on him and changed the unused ashtray into a shot glass.
"Ta," said Malfoy, pouring himself a shot and knocking it back. He coughed, and then seemed to pull himself into proper focus for the first time, gray eyes cynical and knowing despite the alcoholic cushion.
"So. What do you really want to talk about?"
---------------
"Your son, mostly," said Ginny, before Harry could open his mouth.
"He's off in Norway, hunting imaginary creatures for Lovegood, as you well know," Malfoy answered. "I consider the business entirely your son's fault."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's true that Al trusts Jamie too much, but he has never made your son do a single thing that Scorpius didn't already want to do. I think it far more likely that your son wanted to get my baby away from his other friends so he'd get used to relying only on Scorpius."
She watched Draco through slitted eyes, wondering how he'd react to her insinuations.
They weren't quite lies, but they weren't exactly the truth, either. Al didn't make people do things. He made people want to do things, to please him. That had been one of Ginny's favored tactics as the youngest of seven children, so she could recognize it in her son's arsenal of tricks. She was certain that he was in Norway because he wanted to be there, and that Scorpius was there because he wanted Al to be happy.
The trouble was that Al might want to be in Norway because he thought it would make Scorpius Malfoy happy, and Scorpius might have ulterior motives for wanting Al to be happy.
Malfoy rolled his bloodshot eyes right back at her. "Liar," he said. "If we were talking about your daughter or your other son that might be vaguely believable, but Albus is just as Slytherin as Scorpius. Don't paint him as a precious ickle martyr; it won't wash."
Harry laughed. "Point to him, Ginny. I love Al to pieces, but if either one of the boys persuaded the other into their trip, it was Al." He walked over to one of the armchairs and sank into the cushions with a sigh. "But I think they're both being idiots and egging each other into stupid dares and adventures. I'm told it's what young men do when they aren't recovering from wars. James is certainly making a strong case for that scenario."
Ginny met Malfoy's eyes. After a moment, he shrugged and set his new shot glass on the nightstand. "Fair enough," he said. "I suppose there are definitely worse things for them to do than bugger around Norway looking for phantoms."
"Who knows, they might even find some," suggested Ginny, relenting and taking a seat in the other armchair. "Or they could lie creatively. That worked out fairly well for Gildeory Lockhart."
"Until he lost his memory," Harry pointed out, clasping her hand and lacing their fingers together.
Malfoy grinned like an alcoholic shark. "Oh, that's what you think. His books still sell like bloody hotcakes, and he finally pulled himself together enough to get released from St. Mungo's last year. He's writing a new autobiography -- hadn't you heard? It's meant to explain the whole Chamber of Secrets cock-up and then segue into an exposé of the dysfunctional medical system."
Harry looked disgusted. Ginny leaned forward, intrigued. "Do you think there's any truth to it? Most of his other books were about ninety percent true, except for the slight problem of the encounters actually happening to other people."
Malfoy shrugged. "How should I know? I donate to St. Mungo's, certainly, but Iris was the one who sat on all the boards and that nonsense. I haven't a clue what the hospital did with my money."
"That's irresponsible of you," said Harry, "but in any case, do you think we ought to tell Hermione? It seems the sort of crusade she'd be interested in."
"Yes," said Ginny, at the same moment that Malfoy said, "Oh, Merlin, no!"
They glared at each other.
"You know, this is going to get loud -- I can feel it in my bones," said Malfoy after a moment. "Give me five minutes to wash up and dress, and we can continue outdoors."
---------------
Draco spent three minutes in the shower, two minutes dressing, and another five minutes wondering precisely when he'd lost his mind.
"Probably when I started pickling it," he muttered, flicking his wand at his hair to dry it. He glanced at the mirror and scowled at the flyaway blond strands. Where the devil had he left his hair-tie? Why on earth had he thought growing his hair out was a good idea? His scowl deepened. And why was he so scared of facing the bloody Potters anyway? The worst they could do was laugh at him, and it wasn't as if he had to stay in this hotel, on this island, or even in this country. He could go be miserably drunk anywhere he wanted.
The trouble was, he didn't want to be miserably drunk. He just wanted to stop thinking about Iris and drinking seemed less drastically stupid than Obliviating himself.
And he was stalling again. "Fuck this noise." Draco pulled himself together and stomped along the balcony to the Potters' sliding windows. He knocked on the frame, then strode in.
"Not even a quarter hour," said Potter, checking his wristwatch. "I expected thirty minutes at least."
"I am not that much of a prima donna and I never was, either, so lay off and let's get out of this elf-forsaken place," Draco snapped. "I need to explain precisely why your wife is out of her mind if she wants to get Granger involved in any medical scandals."
"Oh, do let's," agreed Ginny with a sickeningly false air of sweetness. "I'm just dying to hear Malfoy pronounce truth to poor ignorant little me. He has such a vast expanse of moral high ground, don't you think?"
"Ginny, can we at least try to avoid bloodshed until we're somewhere a bit more isolated?" Potter asked in a strained tone.
"No," said Draco, and once again found himself speaking at the same moment as Ginny... except this time they weren't disagreeing. He gave her a suspicious look.
Potter had the temerity to laugh. "I should have known," he said as he ambled across the plush carpet of the hotel room and opened the door. "Neither of you ever did anything the sensible or easy way."
"As if you're one to talk," muttered Ginny, seizing her husband's arm with a proprietary air. She tugged him out of their room and down the corridor toward the stairwell.
Draco followed a half step behind and to the left, wondering what he thought of Potter's pronouncement. He, have things in common with a Weasley? His ancestors were undoubtedly rolling in their graves. On the other hand, she did have a certain verve and bite that so many people lacked.
Iris had been like that, too. Strange that he and Potter had such similar taste in women... except Ginny didn't seem in any hurry to ditch Potter for greener pastures. And what did it say about Draco, that he couldn't even keep a wife as well as Potter?
Draco shook his head to dislodge that thought and pushed ahead of the others, shoving open the door at the base of the stairs. "You want somewhere isolated? Then we'll skip the beach, but if we head west along the rocks for about ten minutes, we'll reach a nice, deserted cove with a ledge to sit down out of the spray. Follow me -- and if you drown or smash your head on the rocks, I disclaim all responsibility."
---------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 2
Return to Chapter 1
Continue to Chapter 3
Read the final version on fanfiction.net
---------------
So yeah, that's that. Perhaps chapter 3 will not take me a year and a half to write? *sheepish*
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Ginny and Draco really seem to bring out each other's bitchier sides, whereas either alone with Harry would be somewhat more serious and self-reflective. Also, I suspect Ginny and Draco wouldn't be quite so snarky if Harry weren't around for them to show off to. But the three of them together are (in my head, at least) very, very amusing to listen in on.