To Live and Die in LA - A Dramione fanfiction (complete)

Chapter 7

The night was long and the continuous line of drinks strong. Just what I needed with this dame at my side. She was telling a fanciful yarn, something that would sell thousands of books and have kids dreaming of a life beyond reality.

I try and stay grounded but every time I look around this joint, I think she is spot on. She talks of being a witch and that Blaise and I are wizards. She talks of magical schooling. And wands - that piece of wood. She talks of magical creatures, like that elf. She gave me a fancy row, but either my eyes deceive me or this is the damned truth.

I would drift in an out through her story of trolls and wars, of alliances and deceipts, of love and loss. She told me how my mother and father were involved; how my mother saved the life of her best friend.

She told me that come the morning she was going to take me shopping and get me my own wand, to which I nearly spit out my drink and she rolled her mesmerizing eyes in return. She told me that she would teach me some basic defensive spells to protect myself.

She said that I would have to claim my inheritance. My mother may have to come out for that.

I might see my mother. I don't know how to feel about that. This is a woman who stole me away from my father, from this world that I belong to, to save my butt from a war. I grew up, lived my life, in utter oblivion to the life that I could have had. The money, the authority, the knowledge, the power. It is something that tempts me to go back and claim it all, to take what is mine.

First though, I have to find justice for Blaise. Granger here is just as determined and knows a thing or two from what I have gathered. Tonight, just tonight, I will listen to her fanciful tale, sipping this whiskey, and enjoying the company.

By the morning I found myself asleep with my head on my desk, jacket thrown half heartedly at the coat rack, with a hangover to end me. I could barely open my eyes, the blood thumping behind them caused such a noise and pain that I would have loved to just kick it then and there. I felt a strange nuzzle of something, like soft fur on the wind, and faced the consequence of my night.

There was a otter made solely of silver light standing in front of me, nuzzling my arm. When my eyes focused on the ethereal being, it spoke in her voice, "I left you a hangover draft. Drink it. Drink it fast because it tastes bloody awful. It will have you feeling right as rain in a few. I will be by at half past nine to get started on our project. Don't mention it to anyone, I noticed there were some magical bugs in your office. There still may be. Be careful, drink the draft, and see you soon." When it stopped talking, it vanished in smoke.

If my mind didn't hurt before the hangover, it sure as hell did now.

Today we were going to see Tracey Zabini, and by extension her son. Dealing with a two and a half year old is not something I need to think about with the headache that continues to throttle my aching temple. Do I take what is in the little vial that sits next to my head or should I just suck it up and down a couple of aspirin with a bourbon chaser?

So far she hasn't lead me astray. So far she has shown me things that are surreal, but at the same time as real as the desk that my head is lounging on. So far she has shown me nothing but a different existence, one that I seem to be an integral part of. Not just an integral part - no she mentioned that I am something akin to royalty - what she called a pureblood. A filthy rich pureblood.

When we went to leave she had reached into her little bag, I swear that thing must be magic because she was fishing so much stuff out looking for another little bag that held a bunch of gold coins. I grilled her thinking she was swindling the club; I mean it was one thing to be in a sketchy place like this, drink myself into a near stupor; but I don't cheat. She had to explain to me that this is valid money that is used by wizards to pay for wizard stuff and that I have at least a couple vaults full of it.