Alright. This was based on an RPG. It'll be confusing, trust me. We gave Draco three sisters, brought back some characters from the dead, and even killed off a few. I don't own any thing of the HP world, I only wish. The characters and everything that's well... not mine all belong to JK shakes fist Don't mind the stupidity of the story, the characters are so messed up in here, it may or may not be funny. So, feel free to say how much you loathe this thing.


"What do you think triggered these nightmares of yours, Draco?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, I'm sure you must remember something. Did anything happen during your childhood?"

"Nothing you'd want to hear about."

"Try me."

With a scowl, Draco lent forward in his seat, placing his arms on his legs as he looked at his psychiatrist, a slender eyebrow raised. "Are we here to talk about my childhood, or are we were to talk about why I'm still seeing you after eight fucking years?" He growled, his eyebrow arching even more. "Because quite frankly, Doc, I find this a complete waste of my time." It was becoming more, and more of a waste of time every week. He'd been seeing his psychiatrist since he was eight teen years old, because his own mother thought he'd become that mental. Hell, he'd have been much better permanently locked up at St. Mungo's with all the rest of the crazy bats.

"Well then, lets get talking shall we?" Dr. Duvall said calmly, placing her clipboard down on her lap as she crossed one leg over the other. "Let's start with your family then, Mr. Malfoy. You have three sisters, yes? Would you mind telling me about them?"

Draco snorted bitterly. "My sisters?"

"Yes, if you will, please."

"They are all annoying."

"Hm, how so?" Dr. Duvall asked, her voice soft with an air of sweet serenity that just made Draco want to bash his head into a wall, but still he resisted. After all, she already thought that he was crazy. Better to not prove her point then.

"Patience and Senna are the worlds brattiest girls in the world. Probably more clingy than Pansy Parkinson was back at school. It's bad enough that they're twins, but with them being the youngest, well that just makes matters worse, doesn't it?" He paused, the psychiatrist gave him a look, telling him to go on, but he needed the time to gather his thoughts. "Then there's Katie. She's not really my sister. Her mother is one of my aunts, and we share the same father. She'd pretty much been my cousin up until sixteen, fifteen for her. Still, she's an annoy prat, always been for that matter."

What was there to say about his sisters really? They were all Blacks and Malfoys. All three of them were very much alike. It was a chilling thought that Katie was his sister even, her own mother having been none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, and her father was his, Lucius Malfoy. It was a disturbing mixture. Thankfully Patience and Senna shared the same parents as him, Lucius and Naricssa Malfoy. However, he was still wry of all three of them, as they were all females, and of Black heritage, and truth be told, he never really well - liked his mothers side of the family, the sadistic lot. But then, he supposed that Malfoys were also sadistic.

"Your mother?"

"Vain."

Dr. Duvall scribbled something down.

"Your father?"

"Satan."

Scribble, scribble.

"Wait, I take that back," Draco said lazily, lacing his fingers together in front of him as he spoke. "Satan ruler of hell, keeper of the damned, tormentor of all living souls, the very being that children call the Boogeyman, the monster under your bed the chill of the cold night air." He paused. "Yeah, that sounds like Lucius Malfoy."

"Mr. Malfoy please! Be reasonable!" Dr. Duvall said exasperatedly as she set her quill down on her clip board. Draco, however turned to look at her, mocking an innocent look as she narrowed her eyes on him. "Now, I'll ask you again. Your father?"

"A murderous raving lunatic."

"Thank you. Now, did anything happen when you were sixteen? Anything at all?" The woman asked, picking up her quill once more, as if ready to scribble something else down on the paper before her. She watched as the man before her shifted his footing around before finally looking up at her with raised eyebrows. Oh yes, she remembered reading several articles in the paper ten years ago, but that wasn't the point. She wanted to hear all of it from Draco.

"I fell in love." Draco said firmly, and it was at that exact moment that the timer went off, and he relaxed only slightly before standing up. Before Dr. Duvall could say a word he quickly strolled over to the door, and gripped the knob. "I know, Sunday, five o'clock. Bring a family member." And with that, he quickly left the small office with a huff. Vaguely he wondered when he'd be done with all of these sessions. It had been eight years already, and they had already covered some of his major issues, what was the deal then? Did that woman think they he needed a good lay or something. Christ, that woman got on his nerves more than his sisters did.


The day had dragged on for hours, it seemed. And each hour seemed like years, and each year seemed like ten. People hung around the house afterward and it felt like the biggest pity party of the year. It might have been. Oh, he could already see the article in the papers tomorrow. "Wife of Well Known Auror Killed". That was more than likely to be the heading, too. Better to not read the morning paper tomorrow. Actually, he was planning on taking a week off of work, just to set his affairs in order, and sort things out around the house now. It wasn't going to be easy, but he knew it had to be done, there was just no way around it. How could there be. His own wife had been killed for Merlin's sake, and it wasn't her fault, either. She had simply been in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

There were only five remaining former Death Eaters that still posed a threat to the wizarding and Muggle world, and Harry's own wife had run into one of them out on the streets of Muggle London on her way to the store. The results? The Cruciatus Curse followed along with the Killing Curse. Needless to say, as strong a stomach that Harry had, he nearly wretched at the sight he saw. Not because it was bloody, or by any means gory, but because it was his wife. He was a twenty five year old man, and that last thing he was going to do the moment he was called to the scene was bawl like a baby in front of everyone else. He merely had to hold in all the contents on his stomach.

Funny thing how death can have such a turn around on you. With a rather loud yawn, Harry threw himself back on one of the two couches in the living room. He placed his hands over his eyes for a moment, shutting his eyes under the palm of his hand. He had to figure out just what he was going to do with all of his wife's belongings. Her clothes, he knew, he could just box away, and possibly send to family members, or keep them locked down in the basement. Everything else, her pictures, her books, her wand. Well, he didn't know what he would do with those. He supposed he could just leave her pictures up around the house like they already were. There was no harm in that, was there?

"Daddy," came a soft voice from just down the hall. A tired sleepy voice belonging to that of a little girl. Of course, Harry knew the voice. He would have to have had his memory erased not to know the voice of the little girl. After all, she was only his daughter. Janie, his five year old daughter had woken up. "Daddy, I can't sleep." There it was. Sitting up Harry opened his eyes before finally standing up and walking into the hall way were he flicked on the light and slowly entered his daughters room. Upon entering the room, he noticed that her nightlight had burnt out, and his daughter was clutching her blanket. With a small chuckle he walked forward, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong, Jane?" Harry asked, using Janie's nickname. Upon hearing this, the girl slid out of her covers, clutching a little brown, stuffed bear. She let go of the bear the moment she had climbed into her fathers lap, and swung her arms around his neck. "The light went out, Daddy, and the monsters are going to come out," the little girl whispered into Harry's ear, as she sat back in his lap. Harry put his arms around his little daughter and chuckled softly.

"Monsters, oh?" The man said with a bit of a sheepish grin as he held his daughter. "Well, you tell those monsters that if they want you, then they'll have to deal with your dad." As he said that, he tickled his daughter, laughing as she squirmed and giggled, finally he stopped, and the girl settle back down. He brushed some of the girls sandy blonde hair out of her face as she yawned. "Alright, go on, back into bed, young lady. It's late, way past your bed time."

"Daddy," Janie whined as she crawled back into her bed pulling the covers up to her chin protectively as Harry stood up, taking hold of the bear. He held it in his hands for a moment, remembering the day that his wife and him had given Janie it. It was his wife who had actually give the poor stuffed animal a name. Gruffy. Of all things, Gruffy. Janie had Gruffy since she was a baby, and had clung to it ever since. With a smile, he lent down and tucked Gruffy into the covers next to Janie, before pushing back her hair from her face.

"Mummy's not coming back is she, Daddy?" Janie asked, through a yawn, as she turned over, wrapping her arms around Gruffy now, her eyes closed. Harry smiled softly, even though he knew his daughter couldn't see it. He shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Janie, not this time," he said, pulling the blankets more snug to his daughter. Again Janie yawned. "I miss her, Daddy. Gruffy misses Mum, too." Her voice was going weak, but what Harry couldn't tell was if it was due to her sleepiness, or if she was starting to cry. He whispered something the sounded like 'I know', to her before kissing her cheek and then forehead.

"Go to sleep, Jane. I'll leave the door open, and the light on for the night," Harry said as he began his walk back to her door. "And tomorrow I'll fix your light, that way the monsters wont bother either one of us."

Janie, who's eyes were still closed managed to yawn out the words, "Thank you, Daddy," before shifting a bit in her bed to get more comfortable. Harry smiled again at his daughter, shutting the door enough to where a beam of light from the hall just shone over Janie's face. The last thing he wanted, was to wake up in the middle of the night, and hear his daughter crying about there not being any light. Chuckling softly to himself he walked to his own bedroom, and the open the door quietly as he stepped in, closing it behind him. He changed quickly out of his black suit in to a pair of black cotton pants, and a white shirt.

After a moment of pacing around the room, Harry finally slipped into his bed, shutting off the lights. For a moment or two, he lay awake on his back, pondering what he would be doing for the next week besides boxing up his wife's closes and making sure that Janie was alright. "Bloody hell," Harry yawned before his eyelids finally shut, and he, like his daughter drifted off into a dream filled sleep, though come morning, he was less likely to even remember what it was he had been dreaming about, and it was probably for the better, too.