My Own

Episode 3

Pride and Prejudice

Draco sipped his tea in his forest green tiled kitchen. The tea was very sugary due to Draco's sweet tooth. Harry complained that they had too much tea stocked up to keep buying it. Today, in particular, Harry wanted to pick a fight with Draco over his finicky tastes.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you even bother with tea?" asked Harry, as he sipped his cappuccino.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" He took a swig from his sweetened tea and sighed contentedly.

Harry leaned back against the counter next to Draco and sniffed warily at Draco's cup. Draco pushed him away roughly.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "No bogies in my tea, thank you." Draco never liked the way Harry sniffed at everything. Maybe his godfather passed on a few traits before he died, thought Draco, holding his cup protectively away from Harry's inquiring nose.

"You put so much milk and sugar in there," said Harry, pointing to said cup, "there's hardly any room for the tea. I'm surprised you can still taste it."

Draco glared at him. Whom does he think he is, insulting my favourite drink? Draco thought irritated. "It's better than that," he sniffed toward the mug in Harry's hand.

Harry took a defensive stance. Prepare for war, Potter. "Says who?"

"Says me."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And you are?"

Draco gasped indignantly. "Play you for it."

Curiosity bloomed in Harry's eyes, just as Draco planned. His inner Slytherin laughed wickedly. "For what?" asked Harry cautiously.

Draco sauntered in front of Harry. "We get to-" he licked his lips, "play for the respect-" he sighed seductively, as he leaned and stretched against the wall like a cat, "our preferred beverages."

Harry looked more interested in Draco's body than the bet. My moves are just too hot for his little horny Gryffindor brain, thought Draco confidently. He took the last drink of his cup and sent both his and Harry's empty cups to the counter. He leaned in and snogged the taste out of Harry. Draco stepped back satisfied and swaggered away calmly, as Slytherins usually did.

Draco knew any moment Harry would be on him and he could apply any stipulations he wanted to the bet. What shall I do? Draco thought as he walked into the bedroom. Just as he predicted, Harry grabbed him around the waist panting on his neck. Harry's tongue skimmed over Draco's pulse and Draco tried his best to stand because suddenly, his knees had gone weak. Hmm, this is interesting. Draco turned about to face a flushed Harry, who still panted in his face. Harry placed two hands on either side of Draco's head plainly focused on him. Draco drew himself up haughtily and stared back in the same way.

Harry kissed him, quickly slipping in his tongue at the last moment. "So what happens to the loser?" Harry licked Draco's lips and leaned into him.

Draco's thought process was mildly fuzzy and he tried to come up with a good stipulation. He can become my butler for two weeks, hanging on my every whim in only a Speedo. Draco would've grinned but he couldn't because he restrained the whimpers Harry caused by licking all over his neck. Draco tried to speak but when Harry grinded against him, he moaned.

"T-the l-loser," panted Draco, who virtually turned into pudding again, "has to..." Harry sucked at the pulse on his neck and groped him in a leisurely but zealous manner. Draco lost all coherent thought as he melted into Harry just feet away from the bed. Draco cracked open his right eye to see the bed just a mere stumbling feet away. He tried to move Harry in that direction but the stubborn man wouldn't move.

"Mmm," managed Draco, still locked in the kiss of death with Harry.

Harry's hand slipped up his shirt and played with his nipples, which made Draco sigh and whimper. While he still grinded against Draco, Harry said, "How about the loser has to the drink the opponent's favourite beverage?"

Harry kissed him again to prevent him from answering. Suddenly, Draco was caught unaware, and his pants pooled around his ankles. Draco's movements grew more frantic as he tried to pull away and pull Harry back. His body or more like, his mind was indecisive. His body knew what it wanted. He wanted Harry to take him on the bed, floor, wall, anywhere, at that precise moment. Now. While in the blurred 'evil concoctions' part of Draco's mind, he wanted to push Harry away, seduce him, and propose his brilliant idea. Unfortunately, the blurred evil concoctions dissipated into nothingness as Draco tried desperately to get Harry over to the bed.

"Mmgh," sounded Draco. He tried to pull away and grope simultaneously. "Pah-er."

"Hmm?" resounded Harry, as he continued his activities.

"Ba-ed"

"Mmm-mmm," declined Harry. Draco felt Harry grin wickedly in the kiss and it made him feel uneasy. "Agree to the terms I've set." It was more of a demand than question.

Holy shit. The little fucker devised this plan. And I fell for it. Damn!

"Unh-unh," mumbled Draco, upset because his traitorous body leaned into all the touches Harry produced.

Harry leaned back. "Oh really?" Draco swallowed at the amused mischievous glint in those green eyes. He knew he must've looked like a horny fool. Damn him! "Are you sure about that?" Harry's eyes now held challenge and Draco had never been one to walk away from a challenge.

Draco tried to regain what shards that were left of his dignity and stood straight with his chin defiantly up in the air. "Positive." Mr. Hero couldn't scare him. No, sir.

Harry's face carefully blanked and he stepped back a little from Draco. Draco had never seen him so serious, not usually anyway. It definitely wasn't like him to vacate his face of all expression. With two waves of Harry's right hand, he and Draco were as naked as Adam and Steve (soon to be Eve). Draco hadn't noticed until everything felt hypersensitive.

Harry stepped towards Draco, who looked very frightened and cross that his position had been compromised. Think of something quick! Draco's mind shouted. His eyes darted around the room and Harry chuckled. Draco looked up at him and glared.

"I really don't think," said Harry, as he stepped closer, "that something quick would help you in this situation." He was perfectly composed as he walked forward as though this was completely normal.

Draco eyed him suspiciously, he knew for a fact that he hadn't said that aloud. Merlin's beard! The bloody wanker had actually done it. He read Draco's mind and Draco didn't even notice it.

"You wanker!" Draco was more than upset that Harry read his mind so easily.

Harry looked appalled. "I think it is you who wanks." He leaned in closer as to emphasise his point. "Believe me; I know what you get up to in your office."

Anger welled up in Draco and he made to strike out at Harry, who unfortunately, with faster reflexes and caught his wrists. How dare he? Draco tried vainly to wrench himself free, all the arousal gone and replaced by fury.

'I dare do whatever I damn please,' answered another voice in his head. He stopped his struggle to noticed Harry's eyes bored into him. 'I was only kidding around. You get too serious.'

Draco stared back at him, hoping Harry could hear his mind speak. 'Then h-how do you know...?'

'That you wank in your office?'

Draco nodded just barely a little embarrassed.

'One day I came to your office to surprise you and I heard you call out my name. Well, I couldn't help but peak in and I saw you. In the throes of passion wanking with my name upon your lips.' Draco turned his head and blushed while Harry smiled.

"Could you let me go?" asked Draco, aloud. His anger had abated and he tucked 'putting a silencing charm on his office' in one of his memory files.

"Nope," answered Harry, twisted Draco around so that Draco's back was against his chest. "There's no way you can escape this."

Even the trepidation couldn't stop Draco when he turned around to see what Harry was holding. Merlin's balls. The feather duster never used for feather dusting. Cruel, cruel world. Woe is me, thought Draco half-despaired and half-anxious.

"Muah, ha, ha, ha, ha," laughed Harry, evilly. "Do you still refuse?" Draco bravely faced his impending torture. "Then prepare to meet your doom, Draco Malfoy! Muah, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Harry brought the feather duster down across his chest, very lightly. It made Draco hiss. "Hmm?" sounded Harry. Draco shook his head fiercely.

"All right," replied Harry shortly. "Prepare for the impending torture."

*

"You know I'll win right?" asked Harry.

They were now in the bed, under the covers, and thoroughly shagged. Draco himself was fuming. He had given in to the delicious torture and he hated himself for it. He unconsciously crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

Harry snorted. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my powers of seduction," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Draco moved to the edge of the bed away from Harry, angry. "Shut it, Potter. I was just caught unawares." Draco glared at him and pouted more. He can't believe he let Potter, of all people, get the best of him. He'd get his revenge soon enough...

"Caught unawares?" repeated Harry, incredulous. "'OH MY GOD! YESSSS! I AGREE, YOU STUPID TWAT! JUST FUCK ME!' Is unaware?" He brandished the offending feather duster. Draco unconsciously flinched and became angry.

Draco didn't hesitate this time. He grabbed his wand and hexed Harry right off the bed and on his arse. "Screw you, you damn intolerable goody-goody brat!"

Harry sat up and grinned widely. "I could swear you did just screw me..."

Draco felt his wand wouldn't be enough, so he hopped out of bed and tried to smother Harry with a pillow. "That'll teach you to mock me, Scarhead."

*

Draco had taken the day off and put Audrey Zimmerman, who was a rank below him, in charge. They were standing in front of the 'Jules Valrico Wizarding Clinic'.

Draco felt butterflies in his stomach as he and Harry approached the intimidating building. It was completely black and towered about three stories, but still looked formidable. The long walkway that lead up to it was red brick lined with bushes full of pink poppies. Draco thought the walkway and the flowers were a complete opposite of the stark, scary building they surrounded. He wondered vaguely who decorated the outside and figured he would ask when they were inside. This place was in serious need of a makeover.

Even the décor ideas couldn't stop Draco's feeling of dread about this place. He was one big walking nerve and he felt slightly clammy. Draco fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and felt his armpits dampen with sweat. Merlin, please don't let them take me, thought Draco, as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

"Draco?"

"Ahh!" yelped Draco, as he almost fell backwards. Harry, as usual caught him just in time.

"Are you okay?"

Draco smoothed down his shirt and turned to Harry. "Perfectly." He tried to continue to walk but Mr. Hero stood in his way. Draco felt the impending danger of another confrontation.

"You. Talk. Now."

"I'm not a silly caveman, you dippy," simpered Draco. He rolled his eyes and with as much self-respect he could muster, said, "I'm frightened of becoming a woman. And having woman parts, feelings, and a womanly mind."

Harry snorted. "I really do think it's too late for your mind, sweetheart." Draco glared at him.

"I'm serious, you simple twit," growled Draco. Harry always thought everything was funny, even when Voldemort when up in smoke. Harry said, "Bet old Voldie wasn't expecting that." Draco shook his head to make sure he could keep his composure.

Harry's expression softened. "I know, I'm just trying to make you feel better," admitted Harry.

"Oh, what a way to go about doing that, Potter," drawled Draco. "You have just a way with words."

Harry frowned and said, "Oh, and is woe is me a poetic announcement?"

Draco got in Harry's face. "You wouldn't know real poetry if Ginny Weasley herself smacked you with that paper in second year!"

Harry blushed and stood toe to toe with Draco. "That was just a crush! Moreover, if you hadn't noticed, she's married now! Her name is Ginevra Tyler. Ginny Tyler, you tosser."

Draco reached for his wand with his left hand when Harry caught his wrists again. Bloody reflexes! They both panted in each other's faces, obviously livid with one another. Harry took and deep breath and smoothed his expression over. Always trying to be the mature one, thought Draco patronisingly.

"Look, I know you're petrified," said Harry, letting Draco's assaulting hand drop limply by his side. "I am too. For you, for us, and hopefully, the child that we beget. You aren't the only one with nerves, Draco." Harry blinked rapidly and touched Draco's cheek.

Harry always knew how to sooth his anger and calm the demons that warred over his soul inside him. Draco usually wasn't as quick to jump the gun like Harry, but lately... Well, lately hadn't been agreeing with him. They still had to pick out outfits for tomorrow's party and most likely, it seemed Draco would have to get re-fitted for a dress. He didn't even know how everyone would react to his drastic sex change. He shuddered and Harry held him close.

"I already know," said Harry, as he stroked Draco's hair by his ear. Draco drowned in the sound of their hearts beating irregularly together, he wanted to go back home and just lie in bed with him. Nevertheless, he knew if he ran away, they would never get what they wanted the most. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. Okay?"

It was moments like these, which Draco felt he betrayed everything his house, his father, and Snape had taught him. But then again, in their own way, they had betrayed him as well. Draco frowned as he noticed how emotionally needy he was, and he sort of disgusted himself. He tried to push Harry away but the stupid man just held him more firmly.

"Don't worry it's okay to feel this way," said Harry. He sniffed Draco's hair and put his mouth to Draco's ear. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone know." Draco rolled his eyes.

Draco smiled in spite of himself. In fact, he felt himself grin and tried his best to turn it into a scowl. He pushed Harry away childishly.

"Damn it, Potter," he muttered. "You're turning me into a nancy boy."

Harry leaned back and looked him appraisingly. "I think you're still the egotistical, supercilious, whiny, ignorant git, posh bastard you've always been."

Draco smiled genuinely. "Thank you." Draco thought that today might not be as bad as he first thought it would. He took Harry's arms in his and gestured to the large brooding slate grey doors in front of them. "Shall we?"

Harry smiled politely. It looked strange. "We shall." They poshly made their way up to the clinic.

*

Ginny Weasley. Ginevra Weasley. No, not Weasley, Tyler. Ginevra Molly Tyler. All this aliases applied to the red head propped up in her luxurious house. Three stories, wide and well spaced, four bathrooms, six bedrooms, three guest rooms, two kitchens, an arcade, a large tropical pool, a lavish garden, three offices, a playground, a basketball court, a large Quidditch pitch, a potions laboratory, two personal gyms, indoor swimming pool, and forty loyal, intelligent, and honourably paid house elves. There was a suite glassed in on top of the house for people and guests to relax. None of it, however, mattered or pleased the woman who lived in this house. Not home, but just a house. It was a roof over her head and walls around her to keep the rain and cold out. Nothing more, nothing less. The other entire numerous nick knacks and useless pretty items were there for show and sometimes for extra comfort. Pointless, thought Ginny venomously, as she painted her toenails.

She resided in her room now. It was themed red and her favourite constellation adorned the walls and glowed on the ceiling. The huge canopy bed was mahogany and had thick wool curtains surrounding it. There was a vanity over by the only window in the room, which held all her favourite beauty products. That too was a deep rich red with a comfortable cushioned armchair. She had stars that hung from her ceiling like an infants' mobile over a crib. The carpet was velvet and embroidered with reddish gold thread. It was beautiful and immaculate like Ginny herself. She hated her room. She hated what it stood for.

She looked around the room and sneered. Whatever that French fuck of a interior decorator was thinking was beyond her. He and Sunny designed it in tribute to her flaming red hair. What the hell was it about her damn red hair? It made her a Weasley and plenty of her remaining friends sometimes still thought she was one. A Weasley, the Weasley sister. What the fuck? She did have her own identity. However, no one seemed to notice that or care. Hermione did and sometimes, rarely, Harry did. Oh, Harry, thought Ginny, a smile crept up her face.

She loved Harry, more than in a sisterly way. Nothing had really changed from her first year. She could've sworn Harry would shun her and be revolted at the very thought he associated with her in the first place when she was possessed by Voldemort. Instead, to her surprise and glee, he came and rescued her almost single-handedly. Take that Voldie. No, Tom Riddle. Sneaky, little, gorgeous bastard. She still had no idea why some one would change willingly into the thing that Tom Riddle had become that was Voldemort. Nevertheless, Harry did in fact conquer the Dark Lord, just as she said he would. Her hero in shining armour and riding up a golden broom waiting to take her away to their dream palace. Something that would never happen. Well, not without a little push.

Ginny sat up as one of her house elves, Judie, she thought, approached her.

"Yes?" asked Ginny, looking pointedly at her toenails. If house elves began to think that you cared too much they would get lazy. Such things couldn't be allowed to happen, as she was mistress of the household.

"Madam W is waiting for you in the arrival room," replied Judie, with her eyes downcast. Respect was a powerful thing Ginny learned early and she made sure she infused it into every one of her subjects.

"Decided to travel by Floo did she?" questioned Ginny. Judie nodded demurely. "How unusual. I'm glad I don't have to resort to those beastly methods anymore." She got up careful not to smudge her nail polish and looked around for her wand. She saw the white piece of wood on her nightstand. It wasn't just a piece of wood; it was a tool, a weapon, and sometimes a friend. She used it to dry her toenails and prepared to meet Madam W in a casual but beautiful dress.

Ginny dressed and glided down the curved staircase gracefully. She walked into the arrival area to see that Madam W waited patiently in a chair holding a cup. It was probably filled with some strange alcoholic beverage. She looked ridiculous holding the cup with her pinkie stuck out. She looked like she just came from some grunge concert or something. Ginny thought she contrasted distastefully with her house's splendour.

She sat opposite of Madam W with her legs crossed like a proper lady. Another house elf by the name of Pisa gave her a steaming cup filled with Chinese tea. She sipped and sat as one was expected to when the wife of a successful travel agent.

"Madam," prompted Ginny, as she nodded slightly to the offending character in her beautiful velvet chair. She hoped nothing got on it.

"Mrs. Weas - Oh, pardon me," apologised Madam W, smirking in a way that meant she intentionally said it. "I meant Mrs. Tyler."

Ginny smiled coldly. "You will not make that mistake again Madam or I will ask you to politely step aside and have someone else manage my affairs." She wouldn't tolerate blatant disrespect even when someone was supposedly doing her a favour.

"Warning taken," said Madam W, sitting down the cup on the table next to her.

"Now, do you have anything to report yet?" asked Ginny.

"Well, it seems Harry and Draco spend quite a bit of time apart," stated Madam W. "They made plans to go to the Terry Boot party tomorrow. There are rumours going around saying that there's a big surprise coming with their arrival."

Ginny looked at her expressionless. "I don't pay you to find out rumours. I pay you to work your way into their lives, to make it easier for me to obtain my rightly possession."

Madam W quirked an eyebrow at her. How Slytherin, thought Ginny, thinking of Draco and Snape. "Of course you do," said Madam W. "This possession you speak of, I really don't think it's right yours and I don't know if you noticed, this is a person." The bold aren't always the beautiful, thought Ginny scornfully, as she glared at the woman in question.

"As I said before," said Ginny, controlling her temper, "I don't pay for thinking either. And, he is rightly mine. It's obvious that - that - thing did something to him. He wouldn't willingly love that bigoted prat!" She fumed and noticed the madam looked at her as if she were mad.

"What're you looking at!" shouted Ginny, all composure and dignity lost. She stood up with her fist clenched tightly. "He is supposed to be mine. It is only the natural order of things. If my brothers can have what they want and desire then I can too. It's only reasonable Harry becomes interested in his best friend's sister. I mean Ron has Hermione. Harry's not really gay he's just confused. If Malfoy weren't around to influence him, he'd come to his senses and hex the pureblood bastard! He'd take me and marry me. Then," she paused looking around, "and then we'd have plenty of children to run around the house."

Madam W regarded her quietly and curiously. "You're already married."

"I know that!" snapped Ginny, turning a shade of red that matched her hair.

Madam W smirked at the flush and how well it blended with her hair. Ginny noticed and grabbed her hair and cursed it only to have it turn auburn. She trembled in repressed rage as she tried to regain her control and composure when she sat back down.

What did she know? Ginny thought angrily. She doesn't know about our history. Harry and I are meant to be together! Ginny looked at her and smiled frigidly again.

"I thought Sunny could love me for me," said Ginny. She smoothed her dress that became disarrayed when she threw her tantrum. "I thought I was over Harry. Maybe I was still in shock of finding... Finding out that he and Draco were dating. I admit it felt like some part of me was crushed to pieces but I dealt with it."

More like she went into a depressive state and drank herself into oblivion on the vacations her elder twin brothers thought would be good for her. She'd met Sunny in Australia and the rest was history. Not the one she wanted though.

"However," continued Ginny, looking in her teacup, "when I met Sunny, I thought I was really in love. I just wanted a normal life; to get old with the one I love and have lots of children and grandchildren. Just like my mum. I know I could've done many things since I'm such a powerful witch." She laughed bitterly still staring into the cup. "But I had enough excitement and pain from the war and Voldemort's attempts to control the world to last me a lifetime. I just want to settle down peacefully. There's nothing wrong with that is there? That's not asking for too much is it?" Ginny felt suddenly weak when she looked up to Madam W.

The older woman smiled benignly. "No, it isn't, dear."

An abrupt power surge rushed through Ginny's veins. "Of course not," she reassured herself. "Sunny... He's wants a family and somehow I'm not getting pregnant. The mediwizards all say there's nothing wrong with my womb or anything, so I don't see why we don't at least have one child yet. They told me to relax and not stress so much. Sunny, the great provider and protector, sends me on vacations, by myself, popping in only to bonk me and hope I get up the duff."

Ginny glared at nothing in particular.

"Of course he thinks he can just buy me off when I get upset," continued Ginny angrily. "He doesn't stop to think there might be something wrong with him, but noooo." Ginny screwed up her face in exact imitation of Sunny. "'Us Tylers have strong seeds that root instantly. The problem lies with you. Try.' Like I can just will my body to get pregnant. Arsehole. Now, he distances himself from me, until the next time we have sex. He refuses to get his sperm count tested saying there's nothing wrong with his bloody balls."

Ginny sighed heavily. "I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?" asked Ginny, more to herself. "He wasn't like this in the beginning. I know he wanted children, but now it's an obsession. I don't understand it."

Madam W gave her a look.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Madam W mildly.

Ginny scowled at her and noticed she let herself prattle about things that obviously didn't matter and bored the woman.

"Anyway," said Ginny, switching the topic, "have you placed the recording devices in their house yet?"

Madam W shook her head. "I can't get in, there's a password on every entrance, even the chimney and there are Anti-Apparation fields surrounding it when they're not home."

"Oh, I should've said something." Ginny saw that her cup was refilled. She was glad she never saw the house elves, a true mark of an excellent house elf. "The password is 'The Dark Lord rots in Hell'," said Ginny loftily. "Inventive, don't you think?" She slipped the indifferent mask back in place, cursing herself for letting it slip in the first place.

"Yes, very creative," replied Madam W conversationally.

"A little too crude for my tastes however."

"You know," said Madam W, as she leaned forward slightly, Ginny could see her earrings swaying with movement, "what happened to you?" The question was innocent enough. Nevertheless, Ginny knew there was solid purpose behind.

"What do you mean?"

"You weren't always this way," said Madam W, as though it were obvious and gestured towards her. "What happened that was so terrible to make you become the painted, cold-hearted woman sitting before me? What made you turn away from the things that truly define you?"

"How do you know anything about me?"

"The same way I know anything about anyone else. Background research and information."

This woman annoyed Ginny and she thought that maybe it was a mistake to hire her if she was going to be this moral all the time. "Even though it's truly none of your business, and I'm not looking forward to this holier than thou act again. You should know already if you looked into my past." She calmly sipped her tea. She looked up at the Madam expressionless. To even hint the emotion she felt was ridiculous. Everyone had their pride.

"I really don't know."

Ginny sighed.

"Harry Potter."

*

The inside of the clinic was another stark contrast to the outside of the building. All the walls were a sort peach colour and various painted flowers danced around the baseboards. The floor was a strange faint pink marble and positively glowed at you. You could really pin point were the soft white light emanated from, but everything was well lit. All of the staff there was cherry and helpful and never were condescending like many of the people were who worked at St. Mungo's Hospital. They even had soft attractive music playing from somewhere. This place was a dream. So why was Draco Malfoy yelling at the top of his lungs?

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T SERVICE US?" he shouted enraged.

"Draco, calm down," coaxed Harry, as he tried to comfort Draco by putting a comforting arm around him.

The nurse at the reception area looked flustered. She was a pretty little brunette with blue eye shadow and lipstick on. "I'm sorry sir, but we can't service you in your situation."

Draco glared at her as he pulled away from an equally flustered Harry. He leaned in close to her cute face and breathed, "What bloody fucking situation?"

She looked as frightened as a mouse. "P-please s-sir, there's no need for foul language. I'm not allowed to make you an appointment. It's against the rules. I'm sorry sir, but you and your - er, companion need to find service elsewhere."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. He turned to a white faced Harry.

"I know this can't be about what I think it is, is it?" said Harry slowly. The girl looked up at him and gasped.

"You're Harry Potter aren't you?" He looked at her like he just saw her. "And you-" she looked at Draco, "you're Draco Malfoy. I - I thought that was a rumour."

Draco scowled at her again and looked at Harry who seemed to be in a quiet rage. Draco didn't know whether to go try to calm him or just slowly back away. He felt magic crackle in the air and that definitely was not a good sign. He backed away. Obviously the girl felt it too because she cowered behind the desk that suddenly seemed too huge for her.

Harry walked up the desk with the cowering girl and said as coolly as you please, "I want to speak to the person in charge."

"B-but s-sir-"

"Now." The single word emitted what he really felt. Frustration and anger.

"Kay," squeaked the girl. She ran down the hallway with surprising speed for her petite little form. All you heard was pitter-patter down the long empty hall.

Draco turned to Harry to try to calm him "You don't think it's because we're white do you?"

Harry looked bewildered, then annoyed, and then settled for amusement. Draco wondered if his face hurt. "Yes, we're the evil demons of the earth that greater forces than ourselves have come to cleanse the earth of," remarked Harry dryly.

"Wow, didn't know you had so much insight, Potter," said Draco, with his arms folded across his chest. Sometimes Harry could have an amazing intelligence streak, it always awed Draco. This was one of those times the little bugger could string words together so that they became one smooth sentence. Draco never had to try to achieve that of course.

"Whatever, Draco," said Harry thoughtlessly. "I thought the world was better than this."

Draco didn't feign confusion this time. "What do you mean?"

Harry was about to say something when they saw the nurse scurry back with a man at her side. The opposing man was dressed in light green robes and wore white Muggle trackies. He had long dark brown hair, thick (not bushy) eyebrows, and thin lips. He looked as though he didn't belong in the cherry pink atmosphere. He wore a goatee with professional glasses and regarded them critically. He was roughly Harry's height so he stared down his blunt nose at Draco who just raised an eyebrow. Up close, Draco decided that he would look better without the facial hair.

"Helen," the man said, as he looked at the nurse who hid herself at the station behind a large pile of paper, "informed me that you want a specific procedure done."

Harry looked over the man in a challenging way before he locked eyes with him. "Yes, he wants to undergo the sex change. We were assured that this place was the best."

The man smiled thinly and held out his hand. "Jacob Saul nice to meet you." They shook hands and Draco could swear Harry and Jacob tried to break each other's hands. He didn't even wait for them to introduce themselves. "So where's you wife?" He looked pointedly at Draco.

"What?" yelped Draco, unprepared for the question.

"Your wife," repeated the man, he looked patiently at Draco as if he were a small child.

"The closest you're going to get to wife is Potter," said Draco, looking at said person. "He's my bitch." That answer seemed unexpected to Jacob whose mouth unattractively hung open. Draco's mind sniggered.

Harry raised his eyebrows in indignation. "Excuse me, I don't know if you noticed, but I think you're more of my bitch than I am of yours."

"Prove it."

"Fine, another Quidditch match for the snitch. And I will win."

"We'll see," replied Draco shortly. "Anyway, what's all this business about wives?"

"You have to be married to have the potion administered to you," said Jacob coolly.

"Excuse me?" Draco felt raising anger and tried to quell it.

"Where's the missus?" asked Jacob mildly.

"There isn't one," said Harry quietly. Draco knew Harry was infuriated and just then, it dawned on him.

"You're turning us away because we're gay?" shouted Draco incredulous.

"I wouldn't put it so crudely," replied Jacob, as though Draco hadn't just yelled. "I would say homosexuals. It's a political thing." He shrugged. "We have a completely legal policy here that states that we can turn away non-heterosexual couples."

"Why?" said Harry, as gave Jacob the gaze of death.

"Because if you wanted children in the first place you would've got yourself a bird," said a voice behind them.

They whirled around to see an older version of Jacob standing there in slightly greener robes than what Jacob wore. He had a goatee as well, only it looked like a mop on his face. He was tall and round, not a good combination. His eyebrows looked positively evil; they were thick and curled toward the minuscule space that separated them. Most of his hair was a sick brown colour and didn't nothing for his yellow waxy complexion. His nose was wide at the end and looked as though it didn't belong on his face. Draco never trusted doctors that couldn't keep themselves looking properly.

"Birds are too complicated," retorted Draco promptly.

"Quite right. So weak men deal with other men for an easy shag," said Jacob's father indifferently. "Birds are a challenge and some men are intimidated by it. Anyway, aren't one of you trying to become a bird anyway? That would ruin the whole purpose, wouldn't it?"

"I was a man first and I'll keep my masculine state of mind," said Draco, his eyes narrowed on the fat man. "A lot of guys that happen to be hostile towards people who are different are usually afraid of themselves having similar qualities." Draco glared nastily at the man. Fucking homophobes, thought Draco angrily.

"Sure," said Jacob sarcastically. "If you would be as so kind as to remove yourselves from our establishment..." He gestured towards the doors.

Harry glared at them before he grabbed Draco's arm. "Come on, Draco."

How can he let them get away with that? "But Harry, these bloody straight people are being ignoramuses!"

"Let's just go, before we do something we'll regret," said Harry, he pulled harder on Draco's arm.

"We can't just let them treat us or anyone else this way!" shouted Draco, as he reached for his wand.

"Damn it, Draco!" Harry gripped his arm so hard it hurt and twisted his wrist away from his wand. "Let's go!"

"Yes, get your little girlfriend out of here." Jacob's father smiled in amusement.

Harry's eyes flashed angrily.

"See, Harry! They deserve it! They're being bigoted arseholes!"

Harry grabbed him and pushed him towards the door. He stepped close to Draco so that Draco could see his pupils. "Yes, they are bigoted arseholes, but don't forget that once upon a time you were too. Just in a different way. Put your pride away somewhere and avoid this impending media enticing situation. Now, let's go."

Harry pushed past him out the door. Draco blinked rapidly and noted he might start crying. However, seeing the sneering faces directed nastily at him he collected his dignity and walked out.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Draco breathed in deeply and saw Harry waiting sulkily at the gates. Draco made his way over to Harry desperately willing the tears to go away. He told himself what Harry said was just out of anger but the truthfulness of the words impaled his heart. Yes, he used to be a pureblood bigoted idiot in his youth. Even now, he sometimes caught himself still calling Granger and Tracey from his job Mudbloods in his mind. He hated himself every time he did it because he knew how much they both did for him. Nevertheless, old habits die hard and Lucius did a wonderful job imprinting that into his brain. He even knew he still was somewhat of a posh git, as he subconsciously snubbed people who weren't as financially lucky as he was. Draco wondered if he'd ever be able to overcome the prejudices that Lucius and Voldemort had instilled in him. He hoped so and not just for his own sake but for everyone else's, including Harry, as well.

Draco walked up to the cross Harry. Draco stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. He nudged a piece of loose stone with the toe of his leather shoes. Maybe I shouldn't, might scuff 'em, thought Draco vaguely. He nervously looked up at Harry to see emerald eyes boring into him.

"What now?" asked Draco, still nudging the stone with his foot.

"We go to the next one."

"But what if...?"

"Don't worry about that now."

They whizzed off to the next one, unaware that the next places wouldn't be any better.

*

"That was all of them!" said Draco exasperated. They were in Diagon Alley at the ice cream parlour. They'd been to all the clinics except for the one in Scotland. It seemed all the clinics were endorsed by religious groups and factions. So they were turned away for behaving in sinful manners. Draco glared at Harry who shovelled chocolate ice cream chocolate into mouth. Hmm, Harry-ice cream. Tasty.

"No it isn't," said the ice cream shoveller. "We still haven't gone to Scotland."

"But don't we have to make a reservation or something?"

"From what I gathered, no one has been there in months so maybe we'll get to go immediately." There was a chocolate smudge in the corner of his mouth. Draco resisted the urge to lean across the table and lick it off.

Harry pulled conjured a piece of parchment, quill, and inkwell. He started scribbling. Draco raised an eyebrow as he finished his cotton candy flavoured ice cream.

"It's a private office," said Harry.

"So they'll give us instructions on how to get there?"

"No. They'll ask for a time and date. Then deliver a portkey."

"That's awfully paranoid, isn't it?"

"Maybe someone's reputation is on the line."

They Apparated to Hogsmeade to use one of the post office's owls. Draco rocked on his heels as he looked around. Everyone here looked the same as they were years ago. Nothing ever changes too much, thought Draco nostalgic.

Harry came out and waited with him. Harry turned to Draco.

"How come you didn't know it was a private office?" asked Harry, looking around for stray cobblestones to push around with his foot.

"I didn't think we'd have to go there," shrugged Draco. "I mean there were three in Britain and I didn't see why we couldn't go to those." Draco looked wryly at Harry. "Guess I should've anticipated it, eh?"

Harry sighed. "Not really. There are plenty of self-righteous bastards lurking in the most unlikely of places."

Draco chuckled.

Suddenly the owl came back. Harry looked at and quickly scribbled out a reply. Then sent the bird back off.

"So?"

Harry turned to Draco and smiled. "They'll be sending a portkey immediately. You know, they're all free. Even though..."

Draco looked curiously at Harry. "Even though what?"

"They made it seemed as though it's a privilege they're letting us come in the first place."

"Well it sort of is, isn't it?" replied Draco.

"I mean yeah, but..."

"Oh, will you stop your blubbering," said Draco, lightly smacking Harry's cheek. "Nothing's wrong."

Harry looked up suddenly. "That was fast." The bird dropped the package in Harry's hands and flew back into the post office. He glanced around.

"Let's go into an alley. I don't fancy everyone watching me and you being pulled away," said Harry, as led the way.

"Sod them," said Draco, though he was right behind Harry.

"All right," muttered Harry. He unwrapped the package to reveal a cracked wooden spoon. "Interesting..."

"It's almost time," said Harry, glancing at his watch. "All right."

"I loathe portkeys," muttered Draco, as they were taken away.

Draco always got nauseated where portkeys were involved. He also never managed to stay on his feet when they landed. He hit a very hard stone floor. His vision was slightly blurred as he looked around. He wasn't sure, but he felt as though the place was familiar. He looked over to see that Harry too was sprawled out.

"I'm not much when it comes to landings," said Harry, smiling crookedly.

"Me neither," said Draco. "Embarrassing." Mutterings were one of Draco's favourite pastimes.

"My, my, my. What do we have here?"

Draco felt a hole open up in the bottom of his stomach and looked at Harry pale face. They both looked up.

"Severus," said Draco.

"Snape," said Harry, a fraction of a second after Draco.

"Yes, I do happen to go by that name," replied their old Potions Master, as he smirked at them. "You idiots should know. After all, I did try to permeate your tiny inadequate brains with the knowledge and art of potion making. Leave it up to you, Potter to forget and you, Draco to let him contaminate you."

"Shit," said Draco.