Categories > Books > Harry Potter > A History of Violence

9-Time's Up!

by carlac_80 0 reviews

AB/HP Crossover. Post KD & Post OOTP. Draco has been given his task by Voldemort and is left little choice until Narcissa pulls in a family favor

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Crossover,Drama,Fantasy - Characters: Draco,Harry,Hermione - Warnings: [!!] [V] [X] - Published: 2009-04-22 - Updated: 2009-04-22 - 3907 words

AN: I tried to make the chapters shorter to get them out quicker. I don't quite know how I fared in that regard. Again, I don't own them, but I love them and like to use them. Enjoy!
Chapter 9: Time’s Up!

May 7, 2000: Canoncito, New Mexico

His hazel eyes met my own with an intensity that made me swear he could see right through me. His unflinching gaze laid bare all my deepest thoughts, secrets, and aspirations in life. Despite that however, I refused to cower and let my own hazel eyes remain fixated. I am the master. I am the teacher. I will not be defeated and my position usurped so easily by some little upstart. With my attention focused on my test of wills, I barely noticed the figure leaning over my shoulder.

“God Drew! You’re almost twenty years old and still partaking in staring contests.” An amused mother said while removing her son from my lap.

“But he started it this time.” I responded.

“He’s six months old!”

“I must start instilling my knowledge early since I have so much to impart. I have skills and any child or godchild of mine shall have these skills also. Isn’t that right Terrance?” I said a tad smugly while looking at my godson giggling in his mother’s arms. All I received in response was silence as I look at the baby encased in his mother’s arms.

As said mother shook her head muttering about the arrogance of some and praying that her son didn’t adopt the trait, I couldn’t help but reminisce back on the past few years and be thankful that I have her in my life and that she thought highly enough of me to name me the godfather of her son despite everything that has happened. Yes, there is no doubt about it; Ebony Proctor is a wonder. It pains me sometimes to think that in another place and in another time I never would have had the opportunity to get to know someone like her.

It all started two years ago when for one of the first times in my life I found myself dazed and confused in a general chemistry course at the University of Santa Fe. It was truly an eye opening experience and challenged me in ways I had never been challenged. However, I was most definitely not enjoying the challenge that the rate reaction and mechanism portions of the course was giving me. No matter how much I reread the textbook and went over my notes, I just wasn’t getting it considering how far I was off from the answers to the practice problems. The test was less than a week away and I was beginning the process of shoving my battered pride in an empty closet in hopes of approaching the professor when some deity influenced the professor to make her my partner. In less than an hour, I was successfully doing rate problems after following clear instructions to keep track of my units and that the rate is dependent on concentration. After weeks of reaping the benefits of Ebony’s chemical acumen, I gradually began to see Ebony the person. Initially appearing solitary and quiet like myself at first glance, time enabled me to see an extremely brilliant, driven girl who despite all the promise and admiration she garnered, remained honest and real. It helped that she is fucking beautiful also.

What started off as a slight crush and admiration grew into a strong friendship as she noticed my solitary nature around campus and made it her personal mission to make me feel at home in the foreign environment. She picked my brain and I’ve picked hers. We even shared the awkward kiss between friends who quickly realize that they should stay friends and nothing more. She has shared so much with me and it pains me that there remains so much I am unable to share with her. It makes me feel undeserving of my Godfather title.

Godfather. I can’t help but wonder what she sees in me that I can’t see within myself. Why would she name me Godfather when the events surrounding Terrance’s conception were partly my fault? Who knows the reasons Ebony does a lot of things especially keeping and giving birth to a child that was the product of an assault? Plenty of people, myself included, would not have blamed her for aborting considering the circumstances. Sometimes I look at her and wondered how different things would have been if I hadn’t convinced her to go out that night. I wondered how different things would have been if I hadn’t left her side ten minutes into the party for the brunette with the huge rack?

However, those thoughts usually leave my head the minute I look at Terrance and see those hazel eyes staring back at me. Ebony is of the belief that some things happen for a reason and that Terrance may very well be destined for great things. Maybe Ebony has the gift of premonition. Maybe if I had the ability to turn back time, I wouldn’t because of the joy, love, and strength brought to Ebony and her family in the form of Terrance. There are plenty of maybes, but there is one thing I do know. Despite my great love for Terrance, his “father”, and I use that word lightly, is as good as dead if I ever discover who he is. If I could get my hands on that sick craven piece of shit, I would go to Alcatraz with a smile on my face. But so far, no leads have been found. All I know is that he had to have had some magical assistance since no drugs were found in her system and she has no memory of the encounter except the physical signs and symptoms. This is the shit that gives magic users a bad name and breeds intolerance amongst the mundanes.

Shaking myself from such morose thoughts, I noticed Ebony was finally ready to leave her apartment. Picking up the Terrance’s car seat and baby bag, I started to make my way to my car when my phone started to ring. Taking a quick glance at the caller ID, I knew I had to take this. He rarely calls unless it’s absolutely necessary.


“I need you to come home. They know.” Shit. No accent. Something big has gone down.

“Do I need to take the express way or the scenic route?”

“You can stick with the scenic route. It’s just big news I would prefer to talk about face to face.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.” I said hanging up the phone and making a detour towards Ebony’s car to place the items in her vehicle.

“Change of plans Ebony. Ted called and he needs me to do something for him.”

“Do what you’ve got to do.” That was another reason I love Ebony. She wasn’t the clingy sort. Even though we only friends, I had seen friendships where the people had been just as demanding as lovers. Ebony knew that my cousin Ted was a bounty hunter and that I was sort of his apprentice. When she first found this out, she took one long look at me and just told me to stay safe.

I responded in thanks as I hoped into my car and took off towards Santa Fe. Usually, I enjoy being on the open road with nothing but the purr of the engine and some good music with me. However, I found my self speeding down the highway not even hearing the Jay-Z song that was on nor taking in any of the scenery that surrounded me. I knew I should have just apparated. All that circulated in my head were those two words. They know. I gripped the wheel tighter in response and ran a hand through my hair. I was so happy with my life. It’s funny how those two words totally soured my day.

Before I knew it, I was pulling up to the house that I had called home for almost four years and what a difference it made. I felt myself calm significantly as I felt a familiar tingle flow over me upon entering the house. However, my calm ended upon the sight that greeted me in the sitting room. There I saw my cousin staring intensely into the false fireplace with two metal balls rolling in his palm. I looked at the coffee table and the seriousness of this situation was confirmed with the tumbler of bourbon present. There was no hint of Ted Forrester in his body language and Death wouldn’t let himself look so affected. This was Alex and he was worried, which made me very worried.

Taking the opposite the coffee table and forgoing the waiting game I started asking questions immediately. “What happened?”

“They snatched one of the Order members and it just happened to be the one who knew about you actually being alive. I’m going to put Cissa on speakerphone so she can give you more details.”

I was almost immediately comforted by the sound of my mother’s voice and the New York traffic serving as her background music. For the past four years, she chose to make New York City her refuge to my chagrin taking advantage of Alex’s underused penthouse apartment. Upon asking her reasons for not coming to stay with us, she always skirts around the issue simply saying she wanted to give me room to grow.

But getting back to the crisis at hand, it turns out the details turned into an hour long discussion and brainstorming session between mother, Alex, and I that involved a lot of cursing and circular arguments. Or maybe that was just me due to the fact that we are just finding this out and it happened in March!

After a bit of venting on my part, I cooled down enough to realize that immediately this changed very little. I could probably walk down Diagon Alley right now and no one would recognize me especially with my distinctively straight blonde hair now a dark brown with loose curls and let us not even add in the other physical and style changes.

No, I did not have to worry about them attempting to break the wards on this house. They didn’t even know where to begin looking and I was for all official records deceased. Hey, if Pettigrew could get away with it working solo, I certainly could with Alex at my back with his contacts. What we had to worry about what how desperate were they willing to flush us out and by they, I mean not only Voldemort, but the Ministry also. According to the family bylaws, Lucius couldn’t touch the money or head title until every family member was deceased or indisposed due to his conviction. Malfoy rule number eight paraphrased: A disgraced Malfoy is a useless Malfoy. Don’t get caught. Looking at the family history, wealth only accounted for about thirty percent of the family’s growth and prosperity as a whole. Ambition, beauty, intellect, and most importantly reputation accounted for the rest. That wealth had to be earned some where down the line. Speculation could be tolerated, but Lucius’s hand was caught totally in the cookie jar and as a result tarnished the reputation of the family name as a whole.

Also as sole survival of the clan with no innocent parties depending on his wages, Wizengamot could demand reparations for his treason against the Ministry and acts against the people of Great Britain. In short, Wizengamot and the Ministry could claim the Malfoy fortune as their own if my mother was eliminated in their eyes. There was also the big pink elephant in the room known as Voldemort who had enough contacts and spies within the Ministry to weave through the bureaucracy and put things in his favor. It takes money to fight a war and we Malfoys have a lot of it. I don’t mean that in a boastful way. It’s just the truth. Long story short, we have two groups gunning for that money and now as a result, gunning for my mother despite her reluctance to say those words flat out.

“Come to New Mexico with us.” I said for it was the most obvious and safest way to go.

“No.” That was her verbose reply.

“No? What do you mean no? You just told us that Dumbledore has done all he can to stall the Ministry without bringing attention to himself. You just told me that the Ministry is trying to flush you out while Voldemort is trying to flush both of us out. Again, I ask what do you mean no?” I said in dead voice to refrain from screaming at my mother. I wasn’t in the mood for her portkeying over and hexing me where I stand.

Her voice was just as calm as mine, but I sensed undeterred conviction that did not ease my worries at all. “I said it before we left and I’ll say it again. Neither will get their hands on that money. Do you have any idea how much damage could be done with that money at his disposal? Do you have any idea how hard your ancestors had--”

When she said ancestors, my temper snapped. “Damn the money! Bloody hell, damn the ancestors! I am not about to let you walk into a trap for that money. What kind of son would I be to allow you to do that?”

She retorted just as strongly. “And what kind of woman…no, what kind of human being would I be to let a family …my family loose its birthright and let it become tainted. Let it be used for violence. Blood money!” She lost some of her steam and continued in a tone that went straight to my heart. “If we let that money go Dragon, all of this is for naught. He would still hunt us probably on pure principle and would probably do a better job of it with better resources. Even if he never found us, think of the blood that would be on our hands. We might as well be out there throwing the curses with the Death Eaters. We would be no better. If anything, we would be worse because we practically signed the checks.”

Her words put me into silence. I could care less about the money, I just wanted my mother safe. If they snatched her, I was coming no matter how outmanned I was. I know this. She knows this and Alex knows this. But to think that we would still be responsible for carnage thousands of miles away because we didn’t fight for this money was a slap in the face. It was a Gryffindor state of mind. I resisted the urge to snort. I guess this proves how close she was with cousin Sirius. The Gryffs would probably view it worse since we didn’t pick up a wand and do the heinous deeds ourselves. An accessory by fear. Guilty by resignation.

Swallowing, I decided to voice my thought process. “Okay. So we need to secure the fortune as well secure ourselves.” I felt myself harden and weaken at the same time for the decision I was about to make. I had developed friendships here. I was comfortable here. Despite being in disguise, I like who I am. Andrew Delano Martin was more me than Draco Aiden Malfoy ever was, but I would give it all up for my mother. I heard the resolve in her voice and realized she was not going to let this money issue go. I am not the whiny sixteen year old I was four years ago however much I may act like it at times. It was time to ‘man up’ as Ebony would say. It was time for Draco Malfoy to return because they sure as hell wasn’t going to see Narcissa Malfoy if I had anything to do with it. It’s time for me to protect you mum.

Just as I about to introduce my idea, I was startled by the clack sound of Alex setting his metal balls on the table and picking up his bourbon. He took one long look at me and knocked his drink back. Picking back up his metal balls, he resumed staring into the fire. Thinking he wasn’t going to say anything, I went to speak when he cut through the silence with four words. “I have an idea.”

May 26, 2000: St. Louis

The shower is calling my name. I’m dirty. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m a little horny. The first three can be easily taken care of, but the last one I refuse to even entertain right now. Things are complicated enough as it is. Stepping back and looking at the picture my life was becoming, I knew I had to stop. I was dating two men. I was sleeping with two men and seemed somewhat drawn to others. I was not raised this way. Don’t get me wrong. There are still some things that I do that my family doesn’t agree with. My career for one, but this just takes the cake. I had to step back away from them. Away from their influence. Away from their appeal. I had to see if this was what I really wanted and if it was, how much of myself was to be sacrificed to obtain it.

As you could probably guess, the boys were not happy with this situation even though Richard surprised me in taking it somewhat better than Jean-Claude did probably due to the moral implications of the topic. However, that did not stop either of them from attempting to contact me metaphysically and by way of the phone. Jean-Claude was most definitely persistent with his suggestive dreams that I had to block off the marks after nearly caving in twice. This did nothing but make the business sides of our relationship even more difficult. I needed distance to adequately think and my thought process was skewed by seeing both of them or people close to them almost twice a week.

Entering my apartment and heading straight for my toilet, I hadn’t even begun to remove my blood and dirt soaked clothes when I heard a knock at the door. Who the hell would be knocking on my door at three in the morning other than a group of people I do not want to see right now? I can only hope it’s not another council, pack, or pard disaster. We’ve been having enough of those so far recently that it’s been enough to last me a life time.

Making my way to my door with my Browning in hand, hey a girl can never be too prepared, I realized that I probably look like I’ve already murdered someone judging by the clothes. Oh well. That’s their problem. If they feel the need to knock on my door at three in the morning, they shouldn’t be offended at being greeted by the blood soaked gun toting host.

“Who is it?” I asked en route to the door.

“Edward.” Okay Edward. Wait! Edward knocking at the door? What is the world coming to? Usually, Edward would be at my kitchen table sipping coffee before I even came in. But then again, it has been over three years since I’ve seen him and that last time was just in passing. Shit. He must be calling in his favor because Edward and I don’t do social visits despite us being friends. Damn, I had almost forgotten about that favor. Shaking myself out my partial stupor, I opened the door to find him standing there with a guest. I guess that’s why he chose to knock rather do than to do his routine breaking and entering.

Edward quirked one blonde eyebrow at my appearance. “Rough night?”

I didn’t even deem a response as I stepped back to allow Edward and his guest to step into my living room and giving myself a better view of them both. Edward looked practically the same as before. It seemed he grew his hair out a little more until it began to curl slightly on the ends. He also appeared to be a little thicker, but not much. Edward was always the sinewy sort. He was dressed in his classic black jeans and black button up shirt with an undershirt underneath. Again like I said, classic Edward. Turning my attention to his guest, who I immediately guessed to be Edward’s junior by at least five years to a decade, the first thing that stood out to me was the dark brown curls that automatically made me think of Jean-Claude’s black curls. Even though I could tell he was younger than Edward, he had Edward in height and girth standing around 6’1 to 6’2 with more muscle mass even though most would probably describe him as wiry also. However as young as he appeared to be, I definitely noticed his eyes calculatingly taking in his surroundings and his stance radiating confidence. Cautious but overall comfortable. Someone has been hanging Edward a good little while haven’t they or either he has already met me before. No one is that comfortable walking into a stranger’s house especially when said stranger is armed except law enforcement and they’re armed themselves.

Leading them towards my kitchen I put on a pot of coffee because with Edward, I had a feeling I was going to need it if not more. Sitting my Browning on table in front of me and taking a sip of my precious coffee, I finally addressed Edward knowing how long it could take him to break the silence. “Aren’t you’re going to introduce us?” I asked gesturing towards Edward currently silent shadow.

“That’s Drew. He’s going to be working with us if you decide to help out.” Edward answered while ‘Drew’ bowed his head in greeting.

I nodded in response. “So this isn’t a social visit. What do you need Edward?”

Taking a sip of his own coffee, it became clear that Edward was taking his own time to answer and it appears I wasn’t the only one slightly annoyed because thanks to supernatural hearing, I heard Drew mumble something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “Fucking mental.” I don’t think he was talking about me.

“I’m calling in my favor Anita.” No shit Sherlock.

Some of my impatience was beginning to shine through because I noticed the slight smirk that donned Edward’s face. “And…? Again, what do you need Edward? What’s the case about?”

Edward lost his annoying smirk and took on a serious look with a little bit of mirth dancing in the eyes. Whatever he said, I had a feeling he was going to enjoy my reaction.

“There is no case. I need you to marry me.”
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