Draya Malfoy

18 - The Aunt

"What do you mean by that?" Harry growled, feeling as though everything was falling apart since the collapse of DA.

"We mean we're fucking off, mate," George shrugged, smirking from ear to ear.

"What's the point in staying?" Fred added, his smirk equalling his twin's as he landed a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder. "And thanks to you, we've got enough gold to start up our business."

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. Molly was going to throttle him with her bare hands and then shove his broomstick right up his arse.

"Look," he desperately tried to reason, "we only have a couple of months of the school year left. Surely we can work this out-"

"No can do," George shook his head. "We've already signed on the shop. We move in tomorrow."

Harry experienced a flash of anger. Why did everyone leave him? First his parents went and died on him, then Dumbledore let Umbridge drive him away, and now this. And not to mention Cho who dumped him simply because he had arranged to meet up with another girl for a drink on Valentine's Day.

Pah - he could do without such a needy bitch in his life, anyway.

His thoughts briefly flashed to Draya and his stomach gave an unexpected twist. It was her fault his army had fallen apart. If only she would just stick her nose out of his things. She may be stunning and beautiful, but that's all she had going for her.

Oh, and her hair. She had lovely hair which he longed to tangle his hands in... so shiny, soft and bright. And she smelt heavenly, like peppermint and freshly mown grass... and she had a voice that would make angels weep.

Yes, but apart from all that, he despised her. That vile, rotten, sexy bitch.

"You alright, mate?" Fred asked, giving him a strange look. "You're grinding your teeth again."

"It's just my scar," Harry gritted, thinking only of a certain white-blond haired Slytherin, "it's been giving me nothing but grief and mixed messages from day one in this fucking school."

"Your scar?" George looked worried, frightened even. "Mate, you don't think it's got anything to do with that mass breakout from Azkaban?"

Harry blinked. Breakout? What?! When?!

"Yeah," Fred said darkly, "ten of 'em broke out last night. It's what's prompted George and I to decide to leave - reckon the world needs a laugh right now."

"Well that's hardly a sensible approach!" Hermione bristled, clearly having been eavesdropping from behind her copy of 'Kounting with Krum: numbers have never been sexier!', "dangerous killers on the loose ready to attack from the shadows, but rather than educate yourself on learning about spells and magic, and other useful things that Hogwarts can teach you to help defend yourself, you're busy out selling fart powder!"

"Hmm, fart powder..." George said thoughtfully, stroking his chin, "not a bad idea, Hermy..."

"I'd buy some!" Ron said eagerly, hurrying over to join the conversation by the common room fire. "Sprinkle it in Snape's pumpkin juice at breakfast. Would make double Potions first thing on a Monday morning a laugh."

The twins high-fived him. Hermione tutted.

Harry zoned out as fart powder discussions continued, his attention caught by an abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet on the coffee table. On the front page were ten individual pictures of the escapees, with the biggest one of the lot showing a crazed looking, bloodthirsty, witch.

Harry's blood boiled in rage as he immediately recognised her...

Draya Malfoy's auntie.

*****