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Chapter 4 : A Chat With My Godfather
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"Lyra, you really went to see Draco Malfoy?" Ginny says. "On your own? Without asking my permission? In the name of Merlin's smelly socks, why did you do that? That's really, really, reckless of you!"
I wait until Ginny's a mile-long rant finishes and then simply say, "I wanted to tell him about Mum. That's all."
"You didn't think of talking about it with me? With Harry? You think that this is something we can't do for you?"
"Ginny, please. It's not really a big deal."
"IT IS, LYRA!"
"I knew this would happen!" I groaned. "I knew this would be your reaction. That's why I decided to go there by myself. You wouldn't be any help at all."
"So, you think that you're old enough to be taking this kind of matter by your own?"
I clench my jaw. "You're never this mad when I took care of things I supposedly couldn't handle. You're only mad because this is Draco Malfoy we're talking about."
"And do pray tell, young lady, what does that mean?"
"It means that you hate him and I won't talk more about this."
My Godmother opens her mouth to give me a piece of her mind and would have done that if Harry didn't Apparate right in front of her. He eyes the both of us closely, his green eyes seem like searching what we're fighting about.
"Is this something I want to hear?" Harry says slowly. Ginny let out a deep breath.
"This young lady over here thought that it'd be fine for her to meet Draco Malfoy to discuss about Hermione," Ginny says. I roll my eyes.
"Ginevra, take a chill pill, will you?" Ginny gasps. She points her finger at me then at Harry and finally let out an exasperated groan.
"Harry, you talk to her!" she barks at her husband. "I'll be in the kitchen, to get my head clear of this conversation." She whips around and marches inside the house. I watch her silently and sigh. It takes me only 0,09 seconds to feel guilty.
"Harry, I didn't mean to-"
"Sshh… That's fine, okay? You know how Ginny gets all sensitive when anyone mention Malfoy- I mean Draco's name." I notice he isn't and will never get used to adress Draco by his first name. Old habits die hard, he said when I asked him once why.
He looks around, his eyes stop at the park where James and I used to play together when we were kids. There's a bench, an old bench, that people barely take notice anymore. The bench is only a cover for all the stuffs of the Order of the Phoenix that Harry burried years ago.
"Let's have a seat there, shall we?" Harry says. I nod. He embraces me in a friendly-way and I feel grateful that he never tries to act like a father I never have. He's my Godfather and and he's done a splendid job on fulfilling his role.
"So, you came to see him?" Harry says, when we're already seated on the bench.
"Yeah, I wanted to tell him about Mum. There's no harm about it, right?"
"Yes, there isn't," Harry agrees. "I won't be mad at you for going there alone. In fact, I won't be mad about anything. I'm just worried for you. I know Malfoy as well as I know my arse." He winks at the joke and I can't stop myself from laughing. "He was and still is an insufferable git. He cares only about himself."
"Mum had warned me about him."
"I don't care. No offense, but he's the only family I got left. It's not like I don't like being with you and the others, but…" I sigh. "I love you guys, I really do. It's just, I have to know him. He's my father, Harry. Mum would say no, of course, but I knew her well enough to know that she'd support me."
Harry smiles kindly. "You really are Hermione's daughter. Though you're a spitting image of Draco Malfoy, you're no Malfoy at all." I cock an eye brow.
"Really? You often said the contrary."
He grins. "Well, maybe you do have some of those annoying Malfoy trait, but you're not him. You're not even your mother. You're you."
"Thank you, Harry," I say, smiling widely. He pulls me into his arms.
"You're every welcome, Lyra. Hermione had helped through anything and I feel that by helping her daughter, I could pay my debts to her." He stops and squeezed my shoulder gently. "Merlin, I'm so tired," Harry moans. I'm glad that he changes the topic of the conversation.
"How can you get tired? You're the Head Auror, needs nothing but to shout out instructions at people," I say. Harry sticks out his tongue childishly.
"I think I want to have something sweet and cool.
"Gellato, perhaps?" I suggest.
"That'd be good. So, what do you say to Kreacher's special gellato?"
The Elf appeares in front of us when Harry says his name. The Elf, I think, is probably way older than his former owner, Sirius Black; Harry's own Godfather. Harry said Kreacher has been serving the Black family since Sirius wasn't even born yet. When I first got inside the Grimmauld Place, Kreacher looked at me with wide eyes that I feared his eyes might popped out of his head. He said that I looked at lot like Draco and even slapped his face to make sure of himself. I had Charmed my hair to look short like James' hair, so that maybe was the cause why Kreacher said I looked bloody a lot like Draco.
The Elf bows down. "Master Harry called Kreacher?"
"Yes, Lyra would love to have your infamous gellato, Kreacher," Harry says. Kreacher looks at me and his face is twisted in somewhat a smile of his own.
"Anything for the the daughter of Miss Hermione and Mister Draco," he says. He bows and Disapparates with a crack. I stare at the spot where the Elf was there seconds ago. I think of Draco again, who doesn't believe I'm his daughter. I let out a shaky breath.
Even Kreacher knows I'm Draco Malfoy's daughter.
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