81. Draco Malfoy, son of infamous Death Eater Lucius Malfoy

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Dearest Readers,

hopefully Wattpad has been able to fix whatever was wrong and my story isn't going to vanish yet again...

So enjoy the next chapter and let me know what you think.

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Harry was sitting in his kitchen staring into his tea. He was still not sure about that night with Ginny. He wasn't complaining, but she had been different. She had been... He didn't even have words for it. He had felt like never before when they had made love. This time it had been so much more intense. It had him incapable of thinking of anything but her. She had been doing nothing new. Well, maybe except for... He blushed. It had been truly mind blowing. He hadn't even known that she knew how to...

His head dropped onto the table top. He would need to marry her and soon. Whatever had happened to her, he was now even less willing to have any other guy so much as look at her let alone get the idea he might have a chance to steal her away from him. Which led him swiftly to Blaise Zabini. Why had this bastard suddenly developed this insatiable insanity that made him go for Ginny?

"Master?"

He looked up. Kreacher was holding the paper.

"What?" he saw the newspaper and was about to grab it when he saw the expression on the face of his house elf. His forehead creased. "What is it, Kreacher?"

"Master will not like what paper says."

Harry sighed. That wouldn't be the first time and he had no illusions of it not going to happen in the future.

"That's okay."

The Daily Prophet changed hands and when it was unfolded the photo of a stern looking Draco Malfoy greeted him. Though that wasn't what got him after a moment. It was the realisation that the husband of his best friend was showing the insides of his lower arms. Why would he do that? He read the caption.

Draco Malfoy, son of infamous Death Eater Lucius Malfoy

That was rather tame. Harry had expected something a lot worse. He scanned the page. There was no article going with this picture. Weird. Why would his ex-nemesis allow somebody to take his photograph and in this rather peculiar pose? He would have expected the unfortunate wizard or witch needing medical attention after their encounter with the Malfoy heir.

Shaking his head he lay the paper on the table, stretched his hand for his tea cup and raised it to have a sip. It slipped from his grasp a moment later.

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"Arthur! ARTHUR! Have you seen this?"

Mrs. Weasley was still in her dressing gown as she came rushing into the kitchen holding the newspaper in her fist.

"What have they been printing this time? I would have thought after the stir that Rita Skeeter business caused they would be a bit more careful."

"It's not something they've written." she held the Daily Prophet's front page up for him to see.

"I don't see..." he started before his eyes went wide, "OH!"

"Yes! How did they get that picture? The boy would never allow them to photograph him."

She was about to go into fully blown rant mode when the look on the face of her husband made her stop before she could even get started.

"What? What is it, Arthur?"

He took the paper and turned it around for her to look at.

"What's wrong with this picture?" he asked in a eerily quiet voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at him."

She did. His face was as pale as ever. His clothing was all black and created a strange contrast to his light colours. His arms seemed to glow... She gasped and took the Prophet form her husband.

"How can that be?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I have no idea, Molly, I have no idea."

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The Auror Office was buzzing, in a rather strange and unusual way. Henri Shaw saw the puzzled and sometimes even concerned looks as he passed by the long table in the inner most part of their department. What was going on here?

As he arrived in his office one of the filling clerks was just placing a newspaper on his desk. She turned and realised that he stood in the door. With a deep blush and a mumbled something that might have been an apology and squeezed past him seemingly eager to escape his vicinity.

'That was Dawlish's daughter, wasn't it?' he wondered.

Reaching for the deposited item he could hear the buzz behind him intensify. His senses went on to high alert. His department being seemingly in uproar couldn't mean anything... This was the moment he saw what he instantly recognised as the reason for what was going on around him, the Malfoy boy on the front page of the Prophet. That couldn't mean anything good. He read the caption and frowned. Everybody and his dog knew that Lucius' son was... Staring at the photograph for the best part of a minute he tried to comprehend what he actually saw. It was right in front of him, but still.

He didn't bother to even stick his head out off the office while yelling, "MULLIGAN!"

James Mulligan arrived a heartbeat later. One look at him told his boss all he needed to know. His second in command had seen it as well then.

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