Blood of the Dragon

I can't believe that my father has Internet friends. Lucius Malfoy. Internet friends. Muggle-infested Internet.

...

Anyway: Seven Quirks about me

1. When I was six and just had my toy broom, I used to imagine that I was flying over the Saharan desert. Once I borrowed my mother's blue robes because they fit my idea of what an Arabian Wizard would wear. I couldn't get off the ground because the robe kept on snagging at the broom bristles.
In the subsequent struggle, I might have broken a vase. Or two. Sorry, Dobby.

2. I used to appropriate people's laps as my "throne." When I was five, my favorite throne was Severus' lap.
As I grow older (and bigger), I still love laps (not for sitting, for laying down). Girls' laps are the best because they're much softer and they're much more inclined to pet my hair.

3. I like my hair, but I hate how much time I have to spend on it. I bet Father takes at least three times longer on haircare. I won't be surprised if it takes longer than Mum's.

4. I'm allergic to gold (the metal, not the color). I found out about this when some distant relative gave me a gold wristwatch for my eleventh birthday. That's why I prefer silver and platinum. Well, that and because they're a Slytherin color.

5. My friends don't call me by nicknames. At least, not since that incident when Nott called me "Drake."
Mother used to call me "dragonfly" when I was a toddler, and I like it.

6. I used to love chocolate pudding until that incident involving Potter, Weasley and the Gryffindor table.

7. In addition to becoming a Potions Master, my secret dream as a child was to be a singer. This dream was quashed shortly after puberty.

*******

Because I was bored. Right.

Seen at lilian_cho:

( 27 Questions Answered )

It was the night of the Christmas party. He cornered me to find out what I was doing, and I...let my Occlumency defenses slip.
In the dream, I somehow knew that he would make everything alright.

Christmas is around the corner, and I miss him. Growing up, he was always there for all the Christmases I could remember.


Mother liked to tell me a story that happened when I was five.

Apparently as a child I always claimed Severus' lap as my throne. From there, I would survey my mountain of presents with the air of a little prince. Severus would flick his wand and silently Accio'd the presents one by one until my chubby hands could reach their shiny wrappers.

One picture showed Severus with silver tinsel in his hair. He looked on, bemused, as five-year-old me tore into a present with gusto.

That Christmas, I turned to Severus and asked why he was not a Malfoy, when he was my Uncle Severus. He explained that he was my godfather and not a blood relation. I stubbornly insisted that he was family, and that I would marry him when I grew up so that he could be a Malfoy.

My parents thought all of it very amusing. That was also the year when Father decided I was too old to sit in Severus' lap anymore.