***

It was deep in the woods. Trees loomed, roads snaked, and a car was parked on a dead end road well off the beaten path. The late sixties era muscle car had its engine turned off and was rocking slightly. The windows were fogged up, and the faintest hint of figures could be seen moving in the backseat.

“Oh, Draco,” came a cry from inside the car.

***

Two months later:

“I’m not going in first ” Ginny Weasley exclaimed. “This is all your fault, anyway.”

“My fault?” Draco Malfoy said incredulously. “So now this is my fault?”

“Yeah,” replied Ginny.

The bickering teens were standing outside of Ginny’s parent’s home, which was a ramshackle wooden affair. It had started out as a shanty, then progressed to a shack, then been added onto until it was just an unnameable collection of wooden walls with a single ceiling protecting it.

“You were perfectly willing at the time, I remember,” Draco said snidely. This was a position neither one had anticipated when they’d started seeing one another on the sly six months before. It had been a forbidden romance, of sorts. Neither one had thought very thoroughly about what they would do if their love affair ever came out into the open. Now, of course, they had to deal with that prospect.

Ginny turned up her nose at the blond boy beside her. “I obviously didn’t think it through.”

“Obviously, since you got knocked up.”

“Hmph,” Ginny flounced up to the door, but hesitated before letting herself in. She turned to Draco, looking uncertain. “Do you think that maybe I should break it to them before you go inside? I mean, my brothers aren’t here, but Dad does have a bit of a temper, and he hates you, and I’m his little girl...”

Draco meandered up the cinder block front steps to join Ginny on the front porch in front of the front door. “Ginny, of course I’m going in with you. We’re in this together.”

Ginny smiled, and pecked Draco on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Thank me later,” he said with a smirk, “preferably with chocolate. And strawberries. I like strawberries.”
“Keep wishing, you never know,” Ginny replied with a mischievous grin as she opened the door slowly. She liked strawberries too. She went inside the homey house, looking around the living room. There were twin red Laz-E-Boy recliners sitting across from the television, with matching red knitted afghans folded neatly across their backs. A couch sat along the wall, a yellow and red quilt laid across its back. Knickknacks in the shape of clowns and cute dogs adorned several shelves around the room, and there were many pictures of red-haired children of varying ages plastered across the walls. Other than that, the living room was empty.

“Mom? Dad?” she called. “Where are you?”

“I’m in here, dear,” came Molly Weasley’s voice. Ginny lead Draco to the kitchen, where they found Mrs. Weasley cheerfully baking cookies.

“You’re home early,” Mrs. Weasley said, not noticing the blond boy. “Is anything wrong?”

Ginny glanced nervously at Draco before answering her mother. “Well, wrong might not be exactly the right word for it.”

Mrs. Weasley looked up from the counter, where she was rolling cookie dough. She noticed Draco, and glared at him. “What is he doing here?” she demanded.

Ginny fiddled her thumbs, praying for divine intervention so she didn’t have to answer that question. Divine interveners, however, seemed otherwise occupied. Ginny was on her own. “Well, umm...” she began brilliantly. “You see...” Nothing came to her. She just sputtered on for a few more minutes while Draco began to look more and more uncomfortable.

Mrs. Weasley set down her rolling pin, and gave Draco a sharp glance. “What is it, Ginny?”

“Mom, I’m pregnant,” Ginny said, deciding to just go straight for the kill. She immediately regretted it, and wished that she had gone for a more subtle route, but alas, what’s done is done.

“What?” said Mrs. Weasley, shocked. “Ginny, if this is something Fred and George put you up to...”

Ginny gulped. “It’s not, Mom.”

Mrs. Weasley looked befuddled. “Surely, Ginbug, you wouldn’t be that irresponsible, not to mention the fact that I raised you better than that ”

Ginny wanted to be eaten by a giant cockroach, to swim naked in a giant vat of piranhas, or be forced to eat cow snouts immediately after riding a bucking bronco. She wanted to be doing anything at all other than answering that comment from her mother. Her mother continued to look at her. Just stood there looking at her. Ginny shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Erm...” she finally said.

“Well?” Mrs. Weasley demanded.

“ItsnotajokeIreallyamthatstupid,” Ginny said in a rush.

Mrs. Weasley slowly looked at her hands. “I see.”

Ginny wanted to cry. I will be strong, she told herself. I will

Mrs. Weasley turned her look on Draco. “And I’m assuming this is his fault?”

“Yeah,” Ginny said.

Mrs. Weasley picked up the rolling pin, and pointed it at the boy threateningly. “If that miscreant has hurt you in any way...”

“No Mom, he hasn’t hurt me ” Ginny said. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now...”

“You’ve gone behind our backs?” Mrs. Weasley was outraged. “I can’t believe this. You know that we don’t approve of that family They’re all philanderers and are involved in all sorts of illegal things...”

“Mom, you don’t even know Draco,” Ginny pleaded.

“And I don’t have to ” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “One Malfoy’s just like another The whole family’s rotten You know that Haven’t you listened to anything your father and I have told you?”

“Apparently not,” Draco muttered, glancing over at Ginny. “You never mentioned any of that to me.”

“Erm, well,” Ginny floundered for words yet again. However, lucky for her, she was interrupted by her mother’s continuing rant, which had moved from the inherent evilness of anyone bearing the name Malfoy to pointing out the obvious.

“You’re seventeen What did you think you were doing?” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. Ginny didn’t have a chance to answer, which was probably a good thing. There were just too many ways she could have answered that particular question wrong.

“Molly?” Arthur Weasley could be heard calling from the living room. The tall redhead entered the room, greasy from his job as a mechanic. “What’s going on?” he asked as he saw Draco.

“Tell him,” Mrs. Weasley said tersely. “Go ahead and tell your father what you’ve just told me.”

Ginny swallowed hard. Her father looked at her, confused. Ginny took Draco’s hand, and he squeezed hers comfortingly.

“Dad, I’m pregnant.”


***

***

Twenty minutes later:

“Well, that didn’t go so very badly,” Ginny said.

“Yes, it did,” Draco replied, holding the ice pack against his eye. Mr. Weasley had one mean left hook, as he had just learned firsthand. Mr. Weasley had launched into an attack immediately after Ginny had broken the news, which Draco thought could have been done a little more gently and with a lot more tact.

Mrs. Weasley had pulled her husband off him, but he was positive that she had hit him with the rolling pin on purpose. She had then fussed over him, and tried to get him to hold a piece of frozen meat against his face. He’d only stared at the pork chop in horror, and had managed to come up with some semi-coherent refusal. Ginny had gotten him the ice pack, which he had accepted gratefully.

Mr. Weasley had then put down the ultimatum. “I don’t like you or your family one bit, but you will marry my daughter.”

Draco, noticing the way the man’s trigger finger kept twitching, nodded quickly. No sense arguing with an angry father. Marrying Ginny was a wonderful idea. As long as his parents never found out, that was. He considered the odds of no one telling his gossip monger of a mother about him getting married.

The odds weren’t good.

“Alright then,” Mr. Weasley had said. He had then turned to his daughter. “Your mother and I need to talk. You two go on out on the porch.”

And so they had gone. And so they were on the porch, Draco holding an ice pack against his blackening eye. It hurt like the dickens, but he refused to show his pain to Ginny. She’d patronize him. And a Malfoy should never be patronized, especially by someone who would probably be a Malfoy within the next few months.

“So,” Draco said conversationally, “Why are your parents letting us be alone together out here?”

“Well, there really isn’t anymore damage to be done, now, is there,” Ginny pointed out, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing contentedly. That hadn’t gone nearly as horribly as she had imagined. Her mother had been remarkably civil so far, and her father hadn’t castrated Draco.

“Yes, there is,” Draco suddenly hissed. “Hide me ”

“What?”
Draco pointed out in the distance, at the long gravel driveway that connected the Weasley’s home to the paved road. A pickup truck was bouncing along it, approaching quickly. Its bed was filled with redheads. “Your brothers are coming home ”

“But...” Ginny said. “They weren’t supposed to get back from dumpster diving until five...”

Draco held out his wrist, and Ginny noted with great apprehension that the hands on his watch were pointed to five and twelve, respectively. Oh. Her brothers were almost home, and there was no way she could hide Draco from them as they were already within sight.

The truck full of redheads pulled up to the house and came to a screeching halt that indicated that Fred was driving. The Weasley herd of brothers bounded, climbed, and scampered out of the truck, and all stood in a crowd before the young couple.

“Why is that here?” Ron asked. Ron really wasn’t very fond of the young Malfoy.

“I think we should get him away from our sister,” Bill added, a dangerous glint in his eye. Bill was the sometimes violent brother. Bill had long hair, an earring, and was wearing a Harley Davidson t-shirt. He didn’t have a Harley, but he liked to pretend his bicycle was one sometimes.

Percy pulled a hand nervously through his mullet. The other Weasleys began to clump into a ‘flying V’ formation, just a few feathers and bills away from being a full fledged flock.

Draco let out another ‘eep’ sound, and ducked behind Ginny. He hadn’t seen that many red faces since the time he’d accidentally wandered into the girl’s changing room at the local swimming pool.

“Honestly, they don’t even know yet,” Ginny told her newly acquired fiancé. “Stop being such a baby about it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Draco shot back. “They aren’t looking at you like they want to kill you and use your skin as the lining of the litter box.”

Ginny looked back at her brothers. Murderous looks flashed in every eye except Percy’s. Percy was inspecting an aluminum can very closely.

“I think that this can might be a bit too thin,” he commented to Charlie, the second oldest brother. Charlie smacked the can away, and hissed at his younger brother, “Stay on track We’re about to kill Malfoy for being on our porch.”

“On our porch?” Ron said. “I’m killing him for being near Ginny.”

The Weasley brothers let out a collective war cry, and advanced on the outnumbered Malfoy.

“Wait,” George suddenly said, halting the advance. “Did Ginny just say something about us not
even knowing yet?”

Six brains were immediately focused on that concept. What could they possibly not know? Between the six of them, they had an expert in everything that could possibly matter- women, cars, alcoholic beverages, classic rock, various illegal activities, and then there was Percy, who excelled in brown-nosing and menial tasks. There was nothing they couldn’t figure out

Except perhaps what they wouldn’t know concerning their only sister and that Malfoy brat.

“What could it possibly be?” Fred asked. Their minds were set into work, but no promising theories immediately emerged.

“Umm...” ventured Charlie. “Maybe Malfoy’s here to work for us.”

“No, that’s silly,” Bill argued. “He’s probably here to beg out forgiveness for being such a slimy little worm.”

“Maybe he wants to practice being a punching bag,” Ron offered.

“That sounds like fun,” Charlie agreed, and the other brothers nodded their agreement. They started their advance again.

Things might have gotten very bad indeed for young Mr. Malfoy had his future father-in-law not yelled at that moment. “Ginny, get in here and bring that hooligan with you And if they’re home, tell your brothers to stay out there for a minute”

“You heard him,” Ginny told the six red haired brothers as she stood up gracefully and strolled inside while Draco leapt up and scampered into the house.

***

Draco and Ginny entered her parents house for the second time that evening. They paused just inside the entrance, making sure both the screen door and the front door were securely shut. Draco leaned against the door, sighing in relief.

“You shouldn’t be so nervous of them ” Ginny admonished him, pacing around the hallway. Draco shrugged, and picked up a knickknack from a shelf. He twirled the figurine, which was shaped like a sad faced little girl, around. Ginny watched as the figurine twirled over, and over, and over.

“Stop it ” she finally snapped, grabbing the knickknack. “Why are you nervous around my brothers?”

“Well,” he said, glaring at her, “there are like a dozen of them, and they all looked mad Well, except the one with the silly haircut. He just looked kind of dumb.”

“There are only six,” Ginny began testily, ready to defend her brothers.

Draco cut in. “Only?”

“..and Percy isn’t dumb He’s a perfectly intelligent...” Ginny trailed off. “Well, you might be right about Percy, but still You shouldn’t let them get to you ”

“I don’t Really They’re just a little...” Draco considered it for a moment, “imposing.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ginny said, and she flounced off to the kitchen. Draco made a sound of agreement, and followed her.

They entered the kitchen. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley were sitting at the old table that sat in the center of the room. The table was scarred and stained with everything from paint to fingernail polish. It was a true testament of the brood of children that had been raised in the house.

Mr. Weasley motioned for the young couple to join them. Ginny sat across from her mother, and Draco sat warily down across from Mr. Weasley. He set his ice pack down on the table, and Mrs. Weasley fussed over his black eye for a minute, then admonished her husband for a little while longer. Finally, though, she cut straight to the point.

“Have you two thought about what you’re gonna do?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Um...” Ginny said, and glanced at Draco, who just shrugged. They hadn’t thought about the future much. Actually telling the family had been a much larger concern, and they hadn’t even gotten to Draco’s parents yet.

“Where are you going to live?” Mr. Weasley asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Uh..” Draco said, gulping nervously. Mr. Weasley glared at the boy. The boy slunk down in his seat, looking scared at the look on Mr. Weasley’s face. Anyone with half a brain would be afraid of the look on Mr. Weasley’s face, especially they knew that the look was, in deed, intended for them. Mr. Weasley wore the expression of a man on a mission. Seek and destroy. Draco was right in being very, very nervous.

“Are you going to work?” Mrs. Weasley asked, interrupting her husband’s glaring time.

“Well...” Ginny began, then floundered. Maybe they should have thought all this out before coming over to tell her parents...

“Are you going to go to college, either one of you?” Mr. Weasley asked. They were like doing the good cop-bad cop thing Except they were both the bad cop It wasn’t fair

“I’m not sure...” Ginny got out. Draco just shrugged. He figured there was no use trying to dig themselves out of this particular hole. Just ride with it, he thought. Worst they can do is kill you. Then he realized that the worst they could do was kill him, and he promptly regained his healthy fear of the Weasleys.

“So, basically, you don’t know where you’re going to live, work, or anything else about your future.” Mrs. Weasley stated. She looked at the young couple.

“Pretty much,” Ginny replied, blushing.

“Well, isn’t that just peachy keen ” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, glowering at her only daughter. “I really expected more from you than that, Ginny.” The glower escaped her face, and was replaced by a look of sadness. “ I just want you to know that you have really disappointed me today.”

Ginny felt like sinking straight through the floor. Having the ground swallow her up seemed like a much happier prospect than having her mother guilt trip her, because it was working She felt like jumping up and hugging her mother and apologizing for everything and crying in her mother’s arms But she wouldn’t She would be strong

She would

Her mother dabbled a handkerchief at her eyes, and smiled mournfully at Ginny.

Ginny’s resolve immediately failed her.

“Oh, Mommy ” she cried, and leapt at her mother, hugging her and bursting into tears. Mrs. Weasley also burst into tears. Mother and daughter sobbed together. It was a very emotional scene.

Then the women cried. And cried. And they cried a little more, for good measure.

So, of course, the two men in the room immediately began to shift in their seats uncomfortably.

“So, um,” Mr. Weasley said, looking at the ceiling, floor, and refrigerator, anywhere besides the blond at the table and the sobbing women.

“Uh, yeah,” Draco replied, likewise staring out the window, at the orange curtains, and at the box of animal crackers on the counter, avoiding looking at any person in the room.

Finally, finally, the women’s sobs began to die down.

“I love you, mommy,” Ginny sniffled, pulling away from her mother’s embrace.

“I love you too, Ginny Winny,” Mrs. Weasley choked out before blowing her nose into her damp handkerchief.

Mr. Weasley and Draco had identical looks of disgust on their faces. How could those two manage to act so very sugary? No one acts like that No one The two manly men glanced at each other, and, seeing the same expression reflected on the other’s face, nodded in an unspoken agreement. It was well past time for this little talk to come to an end.

“Dear,” Mr. Weasley said, trying to draw his wife’s attention away from their daughter. “Dear ”

“Oh, sorry, honeybun,” Mrs. Weasley said upon noticing her husband’s pleas for attention. Ginny was still sniffling, and wiped at her tear-soaked face with the shoulder of her shirt. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talked quietly for a few moments, then they turned to the young lovers across the table.

Mr. Weasley sighed, and said, “I don’t like you one bit, boy, but I’m not going to try to kill you...”

Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

“Unless you hurt my daughter in any shape, form, or fashion. Then, I won’t stop myself from ripping your rat faced little head off, spitting down your neck, and turning your skull into a hood ornament. Got that?”

Draco nodded mutely.

“Well, I’m guessing you haven’t told your parents yet?” Mrs. Weasley cheerfully asked Draco, who just shook his head. “Well, you’d better get onto that. Go on, now.”

Draco led Ginny out of the kitchen, and the elder Weasleys just sat at the table for a few minutes. Mr. Weasley picked up the can of Raid from the windowsill, and played around with it, scowling. He really, really wanted to hurt that boy for this whole.. fiasco, but he knew he had to be an adult about it.

But, as soon as that Malfoy brat put one foot out of line, the very first tear his beautiful only daughter shed, he wasn’t going to hold back. He would make good on his threat. Or maybe he would just go with the classic shotgun method. Buckshot did wonders to bastards like Malfoy. His thoughts turned slowly to his daughter’s soon-to-be in-laws.

Mrs. Weasley just shook her head. Kids. Sometimes she wondered why she had thought she liked them enough to have seven. She got up, and bustled over to the stove. She began to cut the Rice Krispie Treats that were cooling there into neat squares, trying to fight down the thoughts that were surfacing. Her baby girl With a baby With a Malfoy It was horrible

“What I wouldn’t give...” Mr. Weasley said suddenly, derailing Mrs. Weasley’s train of thought.

“For what, dear?” Mrs. Weasley, not being psychic, had no clue what her sometimes eccentric husband was referring to.

“To see the look on Lucius Malfoy’s face when he hears about this.”

Mrs. Weasley tried to cut short the undignified snort that was fighting to escape, but failed miserably. Mr. Weasley also began to laugh, and the old married couple just sat back and laughed, trying not to think of the long months they would have in front of them.

***

The herd of Weasley brothers was still outside.

Charlie and Fred were sitting on the steps, playing blackjack. Charlie was failing miserably, while Fred was cackling to himself about Charlie’s inability to notice that the cards were marked. George was sitting on the railing of the porch, swinging his feet, and humming the fiddle solo from “The Devil Went Down To Georgia,” much to the chagrin of his brothers. He’d already had a beer can thrown at him by Bill, which had sent Percy into a fit, as well as a speech about recycling.

Ron was searching in the shed for an appropriate weapon to use on Malfoy. So far, he had ruled out the chainsaw on the grounds of it being too quick, the crowbar on the grounds of it not being rusty, and the rake on the grounds of it being broken, and more likely to give him a splinter than hurt the rat faced little twerp.

Suddenly, he say the perfect weapon to use against the Malfoy. The hoe. It wasn’t broken, it was suitably rusty, and had both a sharp edge and a dull side. He picked up the piece of gardening equipment, and sat down, knocking clumps of dirt off the hoe, grinning like a maniac the whole time.

Bill was tinkering under the hood of the truck, trying to see if the calibrator was indeed what was wrong with it, muttering to himself about the evils of Fords.

“Fix or repair daily,” he complained, pulling his head out from under the hood long enough to kick the rusty front bumper. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Percy was inspecting a small hole in the base of the fence that blocked off the chicken coop from the rest of the property and muttering to himself about shoddy workmanship, apparently having forgotten about the summer two years ago when he had constructed said shoddily made fence.

The front door slammed open just then, and Ginny and Draco stepped out on the porch. Draco immediately realized that this was a Bad Move, and hissed into Ginny’s ear, “Make a run for it?”

“No ” she hissed back. “Be a man ”

Draco looked out over the yard, observing the herd of Weasleys. Pride won over self preservation, and he said, “Fine.”

“Guys?” Ginny said tentatively, and four of her brothers immediately jumped up and crowded around her and Draco.

“What is that goat humper doing here?” Bill demanded.

“Bill ” Ginny exclaimed. Bill didn’t look a bit apologetic. Percy wandered over. Five sets of eyes were trained on Ginny and Draco.

“Um...” Ginny tried to think of a tactful way to put the situation. Hey, guys, guess what That was too happy... Meet your future brother-in-law That was too likely to start a brawl. You’re going to be uncles That would certainly get a reaction. She looked back at her brothers. They were either staring at her, or glaring at Draco.

She suddenly realized that they were still holding hands.

“Ginny?” Charlie said carefully. “Why are you holding Malfoy’s hand?”

“Err...” Ginny realized that someone was missing. “Where’s Ron?”

“He went to search the shed for an appropriate weapon to use on Malfoy,” Fred replied, narrowing his eyes, “because he was suspicious that something shady was going on here.”

“Which,” added George, “certainly seems to be true.”

“Are you and that... that... Malfoy involved, Gin?” Bill asked, looking slightly murderous.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny rammed her elbow into his stomach before he could say anything that would get him killed. “Er, kinda.” she said.

Ron suddenly burst out of the shed, brandishing the hoe. “I found the perfect weapon-” He cut himself off short as he saw the rest of his family crowded on the front porch around Draco. He stared at the scene for a few moments before demanding,“What is this all about?”

“Um, nothing,” Ginny smoothly returned. She began to inch off the porch, pushing her way through her brothers, who all began to move towards Draco. “Well, it would be lovely to talk, but we’ve got to run. Bye ”

She practically pulled Draco’s arm out of its socket as she dragged him along after her to his car, deposited him next to the driver’s side door, and then ran around the car and hopped in herself. She watched out the window as Charlie said something to Ron, and both began to advance on the car. The other Weasleys followed.

“Quickly We need to go Go ” she hissed as Draco seemingly took his sweet time to buckle in and search his pockets for the keys.

“What’s to be nervous about? There are only six of them,” Draco said to her sarcastically, starting the engine. It roared to life, and a flock of birds flew out of a nearby tree, startled. He took off, spinning gravel behind them. Ginny saw in the rearview mirror that a piece of gravel hit Ron in the forehead. He yelled, waved his hoe, and threw a can at them. It just glanced harmlessly off the trunk.

“And think,” Draco said as they turned onto the main road. “We didn’t even tell them the bad part yet.”

Ginny laughed nervously. “I don’t think that you should go back to my house for a while. At least, not until they cool off a bit.”

“Cool off?” Draco asked incredulously. “But then the kid’ll be in a retirement home ”

Ginny giggled over that, then turned sober as she noticed the direction they were taking. “We’re going straight to your parent’s house?”

“Well, yeah,” Draco replied. “Thought we’d get that over with.”

“Well, uh,” Ginny said, “So do you think we could, I dunno, stop and get some food first? No sense going in there on an empty stomach.”

Draco grinned at her, and said, “Sure. May as well.”

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.

Draco steered into the gravel parking lot of the Burger Master, and pulled into the closest available spot. He and Ginny both climbed out of the car, and stood in front of the car in the evening wind for a few moments.

“So, what do you want?” Draco asked, motioning towards the front of the building. The Burger Master was a large a-frame with a giant plastic ice cream cone perched precariously at the top, Orders were taken through a window in the front of the building, and picnic tables shaded with large umbrellas were scattered around for patrons to eat at.

“A small chocolate ice cream cone,” Ginny replied, “and some fries.”

“Okay,” Draco said, and went to the window to order.

Ginny sat down at the nearest table, and sighed for the fifteenth time that day. Her brothers were not going to handle this well. Her parents had handled it surprisingly well, but once the shock wore off they may well still explode. Draco’s parents... She didn’t even want to think about their reaction. This was going to be a miserable few months... years... She may as well admit it. For as long as she stayed with Draco, Ron would act like an imbecile. Ron had hated Draco for a while now, after all.

Ginny had gone to the same school as all her brothers had, Gryffindor High, home of the Griffins. Draco, on the other hand, had gone to the Slytherin High, home of the Snakes. Out of the four local schools, which consisted of the previously mentioned two as well as Ravenclaw Academy and Hufflepuff High, Gryffindor and Slytherin were the bitterest rivals.

Ron’s best (and only, in Ginny’s opinion, because that Hermione Granger didn’t count) friend at the beginning of his time at Gryffindor had been Harry Potter. Harry Potter was well known in these parts. His parents had inexplicably been eaten by a bear while in their home one Halloween night.

There were many theories as to why they had been eaten inside their own home. The most common one was that Sirius Black, one of Harry’s father James’s best friends, had been playing an elaborate prank on the Potters involving a half a deer carcass and berries. A bear, smelling this combination of treats, had wandered inside, confused the Potters with berries, and had eaten them.

Other theories included a scandalous bestiality claim involving a stag and the bear, and that poor (though not always innocent, according to the stories) Mrs. Potter had somehow gotten in the middle of it. Also, there was the popular government-conspiracy claim that the Potters were somehow important in finding out exactly why the Union won the war, and they had been executed via bear for this importance.

Some even thought that it might not have been a bear at all that had killed the Potters, but space aliens who got mad when the Potters refused to let them beam them up into the space ship and probe them.

Harry had survived the bear attack miraculously. In fact, the only injury he had received was a gash on his soft baby forehead. Harry now claimed that the scar was ‘lightning shaped,” though Ginny thought that he said that just because he thought it made him look cool. Everyone else thought it bore a striking resemblance to a chicken wing. Ginny agreed with them.

There were also many theories as to why the bear hadn’t eaten young Harry, who had been a tender and plump child. The most prevalent speculation was that baby Harry had soiled himself during the attack, creating a stench too strong for even a wild animal to stand. Others claimed that the bear mistook the child for one of her own cubs due to his unruly hair.

Some even thought that the bear was really an alien that had replaced the real baby Harry with a cloned spawn of extraterrestrials. Those people tended to cross the street quickly when Harry approached, and often sent out pamphlets insisting that Harry be removed from the public school system in fear that his alien DNA might leak into the other children, causing them all to turn into Democrats.

Harry had been raised by his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. His uncle sold used cars for a living, though he wasn’t the best at it, as he gained a reputation for selling cars that were on their dying days. Petunia and Vernon’s only child, Dudley, was known to most as ‘Get Outta The Way, Pigface.” This nickname came from Dudley’s habit of standing in the center of the magazine aisle in any store, gaping at pictures of scantily clad women. Most store employees just humored him because they knew that Dudley would never get to see a real life scantily clad woman unless he somehow managed to come up with a sizable sum of money. With Dudley’s work ethic, that was somewhat doubtful.

Ginny privately thought that all the theories were wrong. The bear was really a bear, and that it had somehow irreparably injured Harry’s small brain during the attack, which explained his current brainlessness.

Anyway, Ginny had been somewhat sheltered in her educational experience due to her brother’s overwhelming presence. No male her age was willing to face six angry redheads just for the privilege of dating her. Then, one day, she had run into Draco Malfoy.
She knew who he was, of course. Her brother had been in a practical feud with him forever. Their fathers had likewise been feuding forever. And she had definitely noticed him around town, she honestly doubted a single girl hadn’t. There were slim pickings in small towns, and most local girls wanted to pick him.

Well, there was Harry, too. Ginny had, unfortunately, had a crush on Harry when she had been a girl, probably because he was the only non-red haired boy she had ever been around for any period of time. However, she couldn’t argue that Harry was also a cutie pie.

And there were some other cuties around town, but Ginny thought that her sweetie was the hottest of them all. Other girls agreed with her, though. Ginny couldn’t help the smug grin that crossed her features as she thought of all the squealing girls around town who would love to be in her position right now.

Of course, as much as she adored Draco, she certainly didn’t love being in this position right now. Other positions, maybe, but the whole pregnant and suddenly engaged one was not the plan. She sighed.

She wasn’t sure exactly how they had gotten close in the beginning. One day, she had been taking a walk when his car had zoomed by, then slammed on its brakes and waited on her. She just kept walking past the bright yellow and black car with only a quick glance to affirm that the driver was, in fact, Draco Malfoy.

“Hey darlin,” he had drawled out the window at her. She had ignored him, and kept on walking, painfully aware of the fact she was wearing daisy duke shorts and a rather skimpy tank top. It had, after all, been the first hot day of spring, and she had brought out her summer clothes in celebration. He simply let his rumbling car creep along beside her.

“You’re the cutest thing I ever did see,” he continued, not fazed in the least by her lack of response. “I really love your peaches, wanna shake your tree.”

Ginny hadn’t been able to resist the burst of laughter that escaped her lips. She stopped, and turned to him. He grinned back at her, and said, “You wanna ride?”

“Sure,” Ginny replied. She had always been a sucker for cheesy lines out of ’70s rock songs. And so she climbed into the car.

They had talked, and Draco had driven aimlessly. She had been surprised to find out how much they had in common, how interesting he was, and she decided that she wanted to see him again. When he had finally dropped her off at the end of her driveway, he asked to see her again.
She’d grinned, and agreed.

“Here you go,” Draco suddenly said, plopping down a bag and handing her an ice cream cone. She accepted it, and took a dainty lick. He handed her the order of fries she had requested, and then pulled out a double cheeseburger and large fries for himself.

“How can you eat that much?” Ginny asked, as she usually did. Draco shrugged, and commenced with stuffing his face. A little while later, they were both finished, and Ginny tried vainly to think of an excuse to not go to the Malfoy’s house.

“Um, it’s a bit late to be calling on your parents, isn’t it?” she said hopefully.

Draco gave her a look that clearly read, ‘you have got to be kidding me.’

“But-”

“I risked life and limb to go to your parent’s house,” he said. “I think that you can manage to do the same for me.”

Ginny squeaked. “I’m risking life and limb?”

“Just because your family are a bunch of barbarians doesn’t mean the same applies to mine, Gin. We actually know how to act like somebody,” Draco replied.

“We act like somebody ” Ginny protested. “Really ”

Then she considered who she was talking about. “Well, some of us.”

“See, even you can’t defend them,” Draco said. “Come on.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Let’s go.”

They got up, climbed back into the car, and headed off to the Malfoy’s.

They rode in silence for a few minutes as the yellow and black muscle car made its way through the twisting and turning roads that led to Draco’s home. Ginny had never actually been inside his home before, though she knew where it was. She had always been afraid of his parents. She’d heard stories about them from her parents that could scare a cat right out of its skin.

Lucius Malfoy, Draco’s dad, was a known moonshiner. He was also a gambler, and had a reputation for shooting anyone he suspected of cheating at poker. Which, of course, was an understandable stance, because if someone would try to cheat you at poker there was really no telling what depths that they might sink to. But, the point was, he was a bad, bad man.

Narcissa Malfoy, on the other hand, was the perfect PTA mom. She went to every single meeting, come hell or high water, and she always knew what was going on. Of course, some said this was because of a certain Mr. Snape, who was the head of the PTA. She always wore brightly colored stretch pants with low cut tops, teased her blond hair up, and hadn’t been seen without her makeup on since she’d been ten years old.

Draco slowed the car down, and turned onto a gravel road that led to Shady Oaks Trailer Park. They cruised past the obviously low income trailers, the ones with exposed cinder blocks underneath and rust decorating the outside. They then turned up a slight hill, and the gravel road turned to pavement, and they approached the Malfoy’s home.

The Malfoy’s doublewide trailer sat in a weed choked lot apart from the rest of the trailer park. A plastic Santa Claus, his suit faded to light pink and a large crack marring his cheerful grin, leaned against the supports for the rickety front porch. A muddy footprint decorated St. Nick’s jolly belly, and a couple of beer bottles rested at his feet. A few pink plastic flamingos were stuck festively into the yard, giving an exotic air to the otherwise dull, weedy yard.

Draco pulled the Chevelle into the empty parking space between his mother’s green Monte Carlo and his father’s equally green El Camino.

Ginny eyed the large Chevy emblem across the back window of the El Camino. Could she really marry a boy whose family were Chevy lovers?

“Well,” Draco said, “let’s get this over with.”

“Your dad likes Chevy?” The words were out of Ginny’s mouth before she had a chance to think about it.

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said, giving her an odd look. He glanced down at the emblem on the steering wheel. Yeah, still Chevy. “Why?”

“I.. I just never realized y’all were Chevy people,” Ginny said nervously. What would her daddy say? He’d accepted the pregnant out of wedlock with the son of one of the biggest thorns in his side thing rather well, but when he found out they were Chevy people? She hoped Draco had health insurance.

“Come on,” Draco said, still slightly confused. She hadn’t noticed the fact that this car was a Chevy before? There were floor mats with the Chevy emblem on them in both the front and back seats He was pretty sure she’d seen him with his Chevy cap on, right? It was his favorite hat, after all, despite being faded to light grey and sporting a few holes along the rim. She must have noticed it.

“Alright,” Ginny reluctantly agreed, and climbed out of the car. She followed Draco across the yard, and onto the porch. Draco then banged the screen door open as a warning, and opened the door. She followed him inside.

The trailer was new, and the interior seemed light and airy, with clean white walls and neutral beige carpet. The matching green recliners and couch seemed a bit out of place. Knickknacks adorned small tables around the room, and the coffee table was piled high with Car Trader and the classified ads, mostly for cars, from the local paper.

Lucius Malfoy sat in one of the recliners, drinking Bud and yelling at the TV. “‘E’ Ask for an ‘E’, you idiot Vanna ain’t gonna get any exercise if you keep makin’ silly suggestions like ‘Q’”

“Dad?” Draco ventured. Lucius continued to rant at the nitwit on Wheel of Fortune. Ginny looked at her future father-in-law critically. He wore a faded shirt that featured the Budweiser frogs, grease-stained jeans, and his hair was short save for a rat tail trailing partway down his back.

“What?” A commercial break had started, and Lucius finally had torn his eyes away from the screen. “Who’s she? Is that one of the Weasley brats?”

“Erm, yeah,” Draco said. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s in the kitchen, fixin’ us some supper.” Lucius replied.

“No, she isn’t” Draco said, glancing at the island that separated the living room from the kitchen.

“Well, she was there a minute ago,” Lucius grumbled, then bellowed, “WOMAN Where are ya?”

“Hold yer horses,” floated Narcissa Malfoy’s voice from deeper into the trailer. “I’ll be in there just as soon as the laundry’s in the dryer.”

Draco flopped down on the couch, propping his feet up in the coffee table. Ginny sat down beside him, perching on the edge of the couch in nervousness. Lucius glared at her. “You never answered my question. You one a Weasley’s brats?”

“I’m Ginny Weasley,” she said, trying her darndest to be tactful.

“Thought so,” Lucius said. “What’re you doin’ in my home, dirtying the place up?”
Ginny was saved from trying to come up with a tactful answer as Narcissa sashayed into the room just then, a cigarette on her lips and a laundry basket on her hip. “What, peaches?” she demanded to Lucius.

“Boy seems to wanna say something to us,” Lucius replied, still glaring at Ginny.

“Yeah,” Draco said. “We’re getting married.”

Narcissa dropped the laundry basket just as Lucius dropped his beer.

“What?” they both demanded, looking shocked and angry.

“You heard me,” Draco replied. Ginny got the sense that he was enjoying this. Apparently he didn’t often get the chance to completely shock his parents.

“You can’t marry that hussy,” Narcissa said, motioning towards Ginny wildly. “Look at her You two don’t match at all That Parkinson girl from the blue trailer would look nice with you. Want me to call her mother up?”

“No ” Draco said vehemently. “I like Ginny.” Ginny felt special. She ranked above Pansy Parkinson, who was not only a dog, but the village bicycle as well. Though she certainly hoped Draco hadn’t had a ride...

Lucius spoke. “You really want to marry that... girl?”

Draco nodded.

“Well, you’re an adult now, we can’t really stop you,” Lucius said. “Is there anything else we might want to know about?”

“Yeah, probably,” Draco said, and said quickly, “Baby.”

“What?” shrieked Narcissa. “She’s knocked up Is that the reason you’re marrying her?”

“Maybe, but...Have you seen her family?” Draco said defensively. “There are a million of them ”

“Boy’s got a point,” Lucius said to Narcissa. He turned to Draco. “You momma’s got a shitload of cousins. Liked to kill me when they found out bout me and her.” He pulled at the neckline of his shirt, revealing a nasty looking scar below his collarbone. “The youngest one went after me with a garden trowel. I was lucky he missed my throat.”

Narcissa glared at her husband. “Just because they’re in the same predicament we were doesn’t mean our son needs to marry a little tramp from a shack.”

Lucius shrugged, and said, “I don’t like the Weasleys anymore than you do, but just think about how this is gonna eat at Arthur.”

Narcissa gave a surprised snort. “True.” She turned to Draco and Ginny. “You wanna stay for dinner? We’re having Banquet chicken.”

“Sure,” Ginny agreed. You never turned down Banquet chicken.

After finishing the second dinner for the night, Ginny bid Lucius and Narcissa goodnight as she headed out the door, followed closely by Draco.

“Well,” she said after getting back into Draco’s car, “That went much better than I expected.”

“I know,” Draco replied, glancing up at the trailer. “You know, we really need to talk about all this.”

Ginny gave him a half-smile. “I know. Like all those things Mom brought up. Where are we going to live?”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t know... I know we don’t want to live here, or with your parents. That really doesn’t leave all that many options. We could rent a place somewhere, and try to save up to buy somewhere to live.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “Or...”

“Or what?”

“My grandmother. You know, she lives in that big old house up on Diagon Drive.”

“Yeah,” Draco said. He remembered seeing the house. It was not the nicest house ever, but it was big, and in a relatively secluded area. Ginny had pointed it out to him a couple times when they’d driven in that area.

They lapsed into silence as Draco navigated the curving roads leading to the Weasley’s house– er, shanty.

***

“Restrictor plates are ruining racing, I’m telling you boys,” Arthur Weasley’s voice filled the tiny living room.

“No way Look at how close the race is ” Ron shot back.

“Exactly ” Arthur.

“Close races are more exciting ” Ron.

“But it isn’t racing There’s no skill involved ” Arthur.

“I’d like to see you take that corner doing 180 ”

“I could It would be better if they were going 200 like they’re supposed to ”

“You couldn’t And anyways, it’s safer ”
“Who cares about safety? It ain’t entertaining.”

“But--” Ron knew he had lost. No one could out argue Arthur Weasley on subjects as important as racing.

Charlie, who had been watching the fierce battle of wits between father and son carefully, now spoke up. “Hey, Dad.”

“Yeah?” asked Arthur, still engrossed in the race. His eyes followed the path of his favorite driver as the cars ducked and weaved across the track.

“What’s up with Ginny?”

Arthur turned pale, and clenched his fists a little, but didn’t speak.

“And why was Malfoy here?” spoke up Bill, who was watching Arthur carefully.

“Erm...”said Arthur. “I think I heard your mother calling.”

“Mom went to the store, remember?” spoke up Fred.

“You asked for some Moon Pies and RC Cola,” contributed George.

Arthur decided that he had to tell his sons about what had happened, even though Ginny probably wouldn’t want them to know and Molly would probably like to be here. He wasn’t sure that their initial reactions would be anything for the women Weasleys to hear anyway.

“You see, your sister...” he trailed off. Blunt or delicate? Blunt or delicate?

While he was stalling, Fred jokingly began to take bets. “Five on ‘got a tattoo’.”

“I’ll put twenty on ‘is becoming a groupie’,” Bill said with a grin.

“Twenty on ‘pregnant and engaged’ for me,” George said, laughing. The other Weasley brothers snickered at the preposterous statement.

“Um, actually...” Arthur said.

All laughter stopped. It was as if someone had pressed the pause button on a giant remote. Five mouths hung open, looks of mirth dissolved into disbelief, and Arthur just kind of hunkered down into the seat.

“What?” someone exclaimed. The five brothers just stared at their father. Another brother spoke. “Ginny’s pregnant?”

“Yeah, she is.” There was disappointment in Arthur’s voice.

“Please tell me that it wasn’t... that it’s not, well...” Fred said.

“Was it Malfoy?” snapped Ron.

Arthur nodded. “They’re going to be getting married soon. Probably before she starts to show...”

Ron looked like he wanted to throttle somebody. Probably somebody with blond hair and pointed features who drove a Chevelle and had a last name that began with the thirteenth letter of the alphabet.

“And you’re okay with this?” said Bill, who didn’t look quite as murderous as his youngest brother. Quite.

“Well, she is seventeen,” replied Arthur. “She isn’t a little girl anymore, as much as I hate to admit it.”

He thought he was doing a wonderful job of keeping the peace. After all, nothing had been broken, and nobody was storming out of the house in fury. Ooh Crash in the third turn He watched with rapt attention as a race car careened into a wall and exploded into flames.

“Dad ” snapped one of his sons.

“What?” Instant replay. Looks like a piece of the car in front of the wrecked car had come loose, and thrown the car out of wack.

“How can you be so casual about this? Ginny’s pregnant That bastard Malfoy got our baby sister pregnant ” exclaimed Charlie. The other brothers nodded their agreement. They all wanted to do some nice, grievous injuries to the inbred little whelp.

Arthur shrugged. Truth be told, Molly had been only a few months older than Ginny was now when they’d gotten married. He considered pointing this out to his sons, but figured that they would come up with more objections about Ginny’s choice of a beau.

He definitely did not approve of the Malfoys, he knew things about Lucius that would make his already indignant sons’ hair curl. However, he hadn’t heard about Draco participating in the same sort of activities as his father did. Plus, the boy seemed genuine enough in his affections. After all, it would probably have been much easier for him to have told Ginny to get lost instead of coming here and facing potentially violent family members.

His sons, however, didn’t seem to have realized this.

He heard the rumble of a souped up engine from outside. Speak of the devil, Draco had brought Ginny home. Ron got up, and charged out the front door, banging the screen door behind him. The other Weasley brothers followed the youngest of their number.

God save the boy, he had just driven into the lion’s den.

Draco pulled into the Weasley’s driveway, carefully avoiding the few chickens that scurried across the gravel. Ginny leaned over and pecked him on the cheek, and said, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

Ginny opened the door, and swung one leg out onto the loose gravel when she saw the front door swing open. Ron charged out, yelling something that she couldn’t quite make out over the rumble of the Chevelle’s motor. However, what she did hear didn’t sound very uplifting.

“Um, Draco?” she said.

“Yeah?” She glanced over, and saw that Draco’s eyes were focused on the front porch of her home. Ron had been joined with the twins, Bill, and Charlie. Percy was holding Ron back by one arm, saying something probably meant to make Ron less angry. From the unnatural shade of red that Ron’s face turned, and the furious way that he wrenched his arm away from his older brother, it obviously hadn’t had its intended effect.

“Maybe you should leave. Quickly.”

“Is it safe to let you out?”

“Should be,” Ginny replied, and hopped out of the car.

Unfortunately, in the short time that their conversation had taken place, Ron had charged off the porch, across the weed-spotted area where the chickens still pecked at their food, and was now standing next to the Chevelle.

“Get out of that car, Malfoy ” he yelled. Ginny noticed that the veins in his neck were sticking out in a most unattractive manner. She wondered if she should mention this, but decided against it as Charlie spoke up.

“Come on, Malfoy, we only want to talk.”

Ginny could see Draco roll his eyes in a manner that clearly stated that he knew exactly what Charlie meant by ‘talk’.

“Sorry, but I really need to get going,” Draco said, revving the engine some and fiddling with the shifter.

“Can’t face us like a man, huh?” taunted Ron, peering into the passenger side window. Draco scowled at him, and Ginny saw him reach for the ignition. She silently pleaded him to stay in the car, and peel out like there was no tomorrow.

Unfortunately, Draco turned off the car, climbed out, and stalked around the car, standing nose to nose with the most enraged of her brothers. Ron began to yell about her honor, Draco’s lack of respect for her, and how badly he was going to pound the blond boy’s face into the ground.

Draco, in turn, simply said that Ron was clearly a mite angry, and that he ought to calm down some before he said something he might regret.

Ginny backed away from the two boys, and whispered to Fred, “How’d he find out?”

“Dad spilled the beans,” replied Fred.

“What?” snapped Ginny. How dare he take her one chance to utterly shock her older brothers away from her She had the whole thing already planned out in her mind. She was going to oh-so casually wave her hand with her gorgeous engagement ring on it under their noses...

Except that she didn’t have an engagement ring. She glared at her bare ring finger accusingly, but it remained naked. She considered bringing this up to Draco. He needed to buy her some beautiful, platinum and diamond ring that would make everyone she knew just turn green with envy. She didn’t care that he would have to hold up a convenience store or two in order to be able to buy her a massive rock. He just had to do it.

“I’m going to kill you for touching my sister ” Ron yelled at just that moment.

Maybe asking about a ring wouldn’t be the best move at the moment. Maybe she should just wait until Draco healed from the can of whoop-ass Ron was about to open on him.

“But...” Draco began to protest, then thought better of whatever he had been about to say. “Hey, I wasn’t the only one there ”

“True,” Percy said. “Ginny, remember the story about the free milk and the cow?”

Ron snorted. “Malfoy obviously doesn’t care for that story.”

“I’m buying the cow ” Draco argued.

“After you took some free milk,” replied Ron.

“Yeah, didn’t want to buy the car until after you test drove it, did you?” asked Charlie, cracking his knuckles.

“There’s nothing wrong with test driving the cow ” protested Draco. “Wait, that was wrong...”

“Exactly how many cars have you test-drove?” asked Ron snidely.

“That’s a personal question ” shot back Draco.
“I’m not sure that I like being called a cow or a car,” Ginny said, glaring at all of her brothers and her fiancé.

“Hey,” said George suddenly. “Where’s my money?”

Everyone, including Ron and Draco, turned to look at him.

Charlie hissed, “Now is not the time, George.”

“Yes, it is,” argued George. “Cough it up.”

Draco looked confused. So did Ginny, for that matter, especially as all her brothers reluctantly pulled crumpled bills from their pockets and threw them at George, all muttering about lucky guesses.

“Thank you muchly,” said George grandly, smoothing the bills into a neat stack. “Go ahead with the pounding.”

Draco scowled, and said, “There isn’t going to be a pounding. We’re all mature adults-” Then he looked around at the group of redheads that surrounded him, circling him like jackals. Or perhaps vultures would be a more accurate description. “Oh, shi-”

The rest of his curse was cut off abruptly by Ron’s fist hitting his jaw.

Draco tried to hit back, but he was outnumbered. Fred and George both got a few good punches in on his midsection, and once Draco hit the ground from Bill’s punch in the nose, Fred aimed a kick nicely at the fallen boy’s nether regions.

“Oomph,” was all Draco seemed capable of saying. “Oww.”

He tried valiantly to get away from the angry brothers, but they were too much for him. Punch after punch was rained down on the boy until Ron ran over to the side of the house. He grabbed the two-by-four that supported the air conditioner, and carried it over to where Draco lay on the gravel. He began to swing when Ginny, who was being held back by Percy, the only brother to not participate in the beating, screamed, “Ron Don’t do that ”

She wrenched her arm away from Percy’s grip, and ran over to her fallen fiancé.

“Are you okay?” she said to him, touching his bloody face gingerly. He gave her a look that clearly meant, “No.”

She turned to her brothers, and snapped, “I can’t believe you You could have killed him ”

Ron shuffled his feet, and the two-by-four drooped in his grip. “Sorry?”

“Sorry? Sorry? You nearly kill my fiancé by ganging up on him and beating him up to a bloody pulp, and the best you can come up with is ‘sorry’ ” Ginny was in full-out Molly Weasley mode now. “You could have at least made it a fair fight ”

Just then, the crunch of tires on gravel was heard. Ginny looked over to see her mother’s Impala cruise up the driveway. She helped Draco sit up, and lean against the side of his car. Her mother pulled up beside the muscle car, and climbed out, giving the scene presented to her a disapproving look.

“I go to the store for ten minutes, and look what happens ” she snapped, then sweetened her tone. “Sugar, are you okay?”

Draco managed to nod, but let out a moan as he tried to stand.

“Oh, you poor dear ” Molly exclaimed, and reached over to help him up. “Let’s go in the house and get some ice in that eye, and clean you up some. I think there’s one more piece of cake left, I’ll fix that up for you.”

Molly ushered her soon-to-be son-in-law into the house, fussing over him the whole way.

Ginny followed them, and her brothers trailed behind her, muttering about the injustice of the last piece of cake going to that mumble-mumble.

“Here you go, honey,” Molly Weasley said, proffering a frozen pork chop to Draco Malfoy.

“Thanks,” he replied, taking the piece of meat and pressing it against his left eye. Most of the blood had been wiped off his pale face, but a few angry welts and cuts still remained. His eye, no matter how long the pork chop remained on it, was going to end up black. His bottom lip was split and swelling, and all in all he looked like he had fought a group of very angry men and lost.

Strange coincidence, that.

“Ginny, did you get that piece of cake out?” Molly called to her daughter, who was hovering across the room.

“I’m working on it, Mom,” replied Ginny, pulling a saucer out of the cabinet. She looked at the slice of cake. It was pretty big. She wasn’t sure that Draco needed to be eating all that chocolate with his busted lip. Maybe she should cut it in half, and help him out...

“Ginny You don’t need a knife to put cake on a saucer ” Molly snapped.

“I was just going to help him out with it. I’m not sure that he needs this much...”

“Ginny, give the piece of cake to him now.”

“Fine,” Ginny grumbled, dropping the slice of cake on the saucer, making sure that as much frosting as possible remained on the knife she had decided would work just as well as any other kitchen appliance. She set the cake down in front of Draco with a clatter, and handed him a fork. She then sat down across from him, and began to lick the frosting off the knife.

“This is really good cake,” Draco said. He was still holding the pork chop with one hand, while carefully navigating the cake laden fork into his busted mouth with the other hand. Ginny thought he looked adorable.

Molly, in the meantime, had been putting away the groceries she had bought at the store. She pulled the last item, a bottle of ketchup, from the bag, and stuck it in the fridge. She picked up the Moon Pies that she had lain on the counter, and took them into the living room. Her husband was sitting in his Laz-E-Boy, watching TV.

“Here you go,” she said, tossing the Moon Pie across the room to him. Arthur looked up just in time to catch the flying treat, and mumbled a thanks.

“Mom, are you really mad at us over that thing?” George asked. He and Fred were the only ones present. The other Weasley brothers had scattered upon entering the house.

“That thing? Oh, you mean when you ganged up against your sister’s boyfriend and beat the living daylights out of him? Why on earth would I be angry about that?”

George was smart enough to not answer that question.

Fred spoke up then to try and distract his mother’s attention away from his cringing twin. “Um, Mom...”

He trailed off, realizing that he had absolutely nothing to say. He glanced out the window, hoping for a distraction, and was pleasantly surprised when he saw one. “Mamaw’s here.”

“What?” yelped Molly. She hurried over to the window, and peered out. Surely enough, there was her mother’s car parked right outside. Her mother, Josephine Davis, affectionately known as Jo to the masses, called Momma by her child, Mamaw by her grandchildren, and Sweetie Pie by countless men, was climbing out of her gold Cadillac.

Jo was a woman in her mid-sixties. She was inordinately fond of blue eyeshadow, and kept her short hair dyed black, despite the fact that she was a natural redhead. She claimed that black hair made her look younger, and that she could finally wear green without feeling like a Christmas decoration. She was wearing a pair of slacks, a white blouse, and a big gold necklace that might make some rappers envious of her bling-bling.

“Molly Ann Where are you, girl?” she called as she stepped onto the porch.

Molly sighed, and went to the front door, opening it and unlocking the screen door. “I’m right here, Momma.”

“Look at you I think you’ve put on a pound or two. You never did get your figure back after that last baby, did you?”

Nevermind that the last time she had given birth had been seventeen years ago, Molly thought darkly. She resisted the urge to slam shut the door, and said through gritted teeth, “Come on in.”

“Of course I was coming in I was just waiting for you to get out of the way,” Jo replied, walking into the living room. She smiled at her son-in-law. “How’re ya doing, Arthur?”

“I’m fine, Jo,” he mumbled, and turned his attention back to the TV. On the screen, a fat woman wearing a muu-muu was yelling at a skinny, shirtless man who was holding a can of beer. A cop was glancing back and forth between the two, obviously trying to figure out which one to arrest.

“And the twins How’re you doing?”

“We’re fine, Mamaw,” Fred said.

“Yeah, we were just heading outside to help Bill with the truck,” George said.

“Yeah, the radiator’s been giving him some trouble lately,” added Fred, and then the two fled outside.
Jo then headed towards the kitchen. Molly followed her, forgetting about who was in the kitchen until a few seconds too late.

It’s worth the time to take a moment to explain exactly why Josephine Davis, mother of one, grandmother of many, is not fond of the Malfoy family.

When Jo had been but a girl, living with her momma in their small house down near Dirtywater Creek, she had been completely in love with a young man who lived across town. She had met with him, and they had gone on long walks in the woods, and all that sort of lovey-dovey thing. Unfortunately, due to the nature of lovey-dovey things, Jo had ended up pregnant.

Now, this wouldn’t have been as big of a disgrace except for the fact that no one had actually known that Jo was seeing any one person. She had also gone to the church dance with a different young man, and had gone to the school social with yet another young man. Basically, Jo had gotten around.

Now, for all you soap opera fans out there, fear not, because none of these young men are the reason that Jo has problems with the Malfoy family. So fear not for this story turning into a real southern parody, with family trees that make a corn stalk look branched.

However, Billy Joe Malfoy, father of Lucius, had been the one to bring up Jo’s promiscuity in front of the town preacher. The reverend had given Jo a very public tongue lashing that Sunday at church, and ever since Jo had hated the Malfoy family.

So, when Jo, more than forty years later, walked into her daughter’s kitchen and found her favorite granddaughter stealing a bite of a piece of cake sitting in front of a beat-up blond whose whole appearance just screamed Malfoy, she got a mite upset.

“Ginny Sue What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Ginny looked at her grandmother guiltily, and said, “I just had one bite, Mamaw.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about? Why is there a Malfoy in your mother’s kitchen? You know how I feel about them ” Jo was slightly livid.

Ginny looked at her mother, wondering what she was supposed to say. Molly shrugged, but shook her head hoping that Ginny wouldn’t spill the beans to Jo just yet.

“Um, yeah, Mamaw, I do know how you feel about them, but I was just...”

“Just what?” interrupted Jo.

Ginny shrugged. Draco looked back and forth between the three women, but decided that silence was the best policy in this case. He kept his head low over the cake, which really was a lot better than his own momma’s, and hoped that Ginny’s grandmother wasn’t the violent sort.

“Well?” Jo tapped one heeled foot against the cracked linoleum of the kitchen floor.

“You see, Mamaw,” Ginny began, “We’re... engaged.” The last word came out as a squeak.

Jo looked at the boy sitting at the table. He lowered the pork chop from his eye, and sighed. He looked completely prepared to get a thorough tongue-lashing, but Jo wasn’t about to do that. No, sirree, she had a better plan.

“That’s marvelous ” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You two do look wonderful together ”

Molly, Draco, and Ginny all just looked at one another. Draco didn’t know the entire depth of Jo’s hatred of his family, but he knew that grudges between the families traditionally ran deep. He also knew from the way Ginny had stiffened up as soon as her grandmother had entered the kitchen that ‘that’s marvelous’ was the last thing that she had expected to hear. Jo, in the meantime, pulled a glass out of a cabinet and filled it with ice.

“Momma, have you forgotten to take some medicine?” Molly asked, looking suspicious.

“Molly, dear, you know very well that I am as healthy as a horse, and plan on staying that way for many years to come, as much as that just kills you. Now, what’s my future grandson-in-law’s name?” Jo looked in the fridge, and pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea. She poured herself a glass, then stuck the pitcher back in the fridge. Ginny looked at the glass of tea enviously, but didn’t dare to say a word. Long moments passed.

“His name’s Draco,” Ginny finally said, upon the realization that no one else seemed to be willing to pony up his name.

“That’s a silly name. Were your parents on drugs?” Jo asked. “Lots of strangely named kids have parents on drugs. Look at that poor Longbottom kid. What kind of parents name their kid Neville? I know they were on the wacky tobaccy.”

“Momma ” snapped Molly. “You know what happened to them- that wasn’t a very nice thing to say ”

“Just because some kids can’t hold their liquor doesn’t mean I have to coddle them, Molly. Being a vegetable ain’t no excuse for naming your kid something that awful. And you never answered my question, boy.”

“My parents weren’t on drugs when they named me,” replied Draco, looking very much like he had just found himself in the Twilight Zone. People didn’t talk about his family like that. People respected the Malfoys- or at the very least feared them. Their image and reputation had been carefully cultivated over the years, and here was a woman just blasting through it like she was somebody.

“I’m sure,” replied Jo.

“Mamaw, was there something you were wanting?” Ginny asked, hoping to avoid a confrontation. She recognized the slightly affronted look on Draco’s face- it was the same look he’d gotten when Justin Finch-Fletchley had implied that his car was faster than Draco’s. She was still very glad that Justin’s Camaro had thrown that rod, and he had therefore been unable to finish the race. She didn’t want to know what Draco would have done if he had lost.

“Yes, dear, I’m a little curious as to the sudden engagement,” Jo replied. “I’ve never even seen this boy before, and now suddenly he’s going to be marrying my only granddaughter. I think that’s slightly suspicious.”

Ginny flushed, ans replied, “There ain’t nothing suspicious about it.”

“Of course there is, child. When’s it due?”

Ginny looked very much like she wanted to hit her grandmother, but refrained. It wasn’t polite to abuse your elders, even when they were being positively evil. “January.”

“Wonderful A new year’s baby. Try to have it on the first, they give lots of free stuff to the first baby of the year,” replied Jo, smiling. “Though, back in my day, there wasn’t any of this fancy-pancy free stuff given all over the place just because a girl popped out a kid at the right time of the year. Well. When are you two getting hitched? Surely before Ginny starts to show- nothing tackier than an obviously shotgun wedding.”

“Momma, why did you stop by?” Molly asked. She was remembering very clearly the exact reason she had been so happy to be moving out of her mother’s home.

“I need to go to the junk yard, and I thought that one of your boys might accompany me, so that I don’t get ripped off. You know how those mechanics love to overcharge ladies like myself.”

“Oh, I’m sure that Ron would be more than happy to go with you,” Molly said. Ginny held back a snort that was threatening to escape. Her mother could be so very cruel with her punishments, when she so wished. Ron would get it for the Malfoy Smackdown, oh yes, he would.

“Lovely ” cried Jo. “I’ll go get him, and we’ll talk more when we get back.”

“Wonderful,” Molly said with a forced smile.

Jo turned, and left the kitchen. A few moments later, her voice could be heard outside. “Ron Ronnie, dear, where are you? RON?”
A thunk.
“Ron, did you just hit your head on that nasty old car hood? Poor child. Come here and Mamaw’ll kiss it better.”

Draco snorted, then winced as sudden pain reminded him of one of Charlie’s well-aimed punches.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked him.

“Peachy keen,” replied Draco, scowling.

“Poor dear,” Molly said. She took the empty plate from in front of him, and dumped it in the sink. “Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, I’m fine. That was really good, though,” he replied. “I should probably get going.”

“Will you be back by tomorrow? I’m planning on having a barbecue for dinner,” Molly said.

“That sounds good,” replied Draco.

“I’ll walk you out,” Ginny said.

“Bye,” Draco called to Molly as he left the kitchen.

They passed through the living room without incident, as Arthur was deeply engrossed in the episode of Cops that was on the air. Ginny peered out the screen door, and whispered back to Draco, “I think the coast is clear.”

They slipped out of the house, and walked across the gravel to Draco’s car. “Bye, sweet,” Ginny said, standing on her tip-toes to kiss Draco firmly on the lips.

The sound of metal hitting metal interrupted their first alone time since the whole ordeal had begun.

“What?” snapped Draco, looking over to the origin of the sound.

“Nothing,” said Fred. He stood a little ways away, holding the tire jack he had just hit against the tin wall of the shed.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked.

“Er, nothing, nothing. I just wanted to, you know, make sure there weren’t any critters in the shed,” Fred said, banging the tire jack against the shed once again.

Ginny gave him a weird look, then asked, “Where’s George?”

“Er, George?” Fred asked. A furtive glance was shot in the direction of Draco’s car.

“Yes, George, you know- your twin, who is normally attached to you at the hip?” Ginny snapped.

“Oh That George ” Fred exclaimed. “I thought you were talking about some other George. I don’t know where George is.”

Draco looked at Fred suspiciously, then headed towards the driver’s side door of his car. “I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow, Gin.”

“Bye,” Ginny replied.

Draco reached the other side of his car, and stopped short. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Er,” came George’s voice.

“Don’t confess Say it wasn’t you ” Fred exclaimed.

“What did you do?” growled Draco, who looked like he was very, very close to losing his patience.

George stood up, and dusted off his pants. “I think that’s a very suspicious attitude you have, there, buddy boy. Really, accusing me of doing something, when I was obviously only...” He trailed off.

“Obviously only what?” said Ginny from the other side of the car.

“Uh,” George said.

“He was just checking the air in the tires on that deathtrap,” Fred announced.

“Really?” said Ginny. “He was checking the air?”

“Yeah,” said George.

Draco opened his mouth to say, “Yeah, right,” when Ginny interrupted him.

“How sweet ”

Draco watched in shock as Ginny launched herself around the car, and enveloped George in a huge hug. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve done all day I mean, trying to make up for nearly killing my boyfriend by checking up on his tires ” Ginny pulled away, and wiped away a tear that had fallen from one eye. “I’m so lucky to have you as my brother ”

George managed to say, “Um,” before Ginny started again.

“I can’t believe I was suspicious of you doing something bad to Draco’s car I mean, you love me too much to want to do something like that to me.”

“Fine Fine We were gonna mess with the car ” George said, throwing his hands into the air. “Evil woman.”

“Did you get anything done to the car?” Ginny asked.

“No, you came out too soon. Plus, we had to take time out of planning to make fun of Ron, and laugh at him mercilessly.”

“Good,” Ginny said.

“Bye, Draco,” she said, giving him a kiss. She chose to ignore the gagging sounds her brothers made.

“Bye,” Draco said as he finally managed to escape.

“I told you, I didn’t provoke anything ”

“Dearie, don’t lie to me. I saw it with my very own eyes.”

“Well, get them checked, because none of that was my fault.”

“Is that any way to speak to your grandmother?”

“Well...”

“It sounds like your brother is home,” Molly told Ginny. They were in the kitchen, and Molly was trying to show Ginny how to make meringue. So far, it had been an unsuccessful endeavor.

There was a clang as the front door swung open, and Ron charged in. He stalked through the living room, and into the kitchen, where he sat down at the table angrily.

Molly asked as she turned the stove off, “What’s wro-”

She caught a good glimpse of her youngest son.

She fought back the urge to laugh uproariously, and managed to choke out, “What happened?”

Ron glared at her. “It isn’t funny ”

“Of course not, but how did you manage...” Molly trailed off, then waved her hand in the general direction of her son. “That?”

Ron sat down heavily in a kitchen chair, dripping wet and covered in grease stains. His pants had several large rips, including one that seemed to stretch across his behind, and his t-shirt was missing a sleeve.

“It’s all Mamaw’s fault,” he grumbled.

“It was not ” exclaimed Jo as she strolled into the kitchen for the second time that evening. All the others in the kitchen thought that was two times to many. “I told you not to trust that dog.”

“After you said, ‘Here, poochie, poochie. Momma’s got you some treats right here. Just come right over here, puppy,’” Ron said.

“I never said to pet the dog, though, did I?” Jo replied.

Ron glared.

“Though you did look right silly running around the junkyard, trying to keep your britches from falling off,” Jo continued blithely. “I especially liked when you fell face first into that scuzzy pond out back. Hard telling what all lived in there, you’ll probably grow an extra eye or die or something. And that whole thing with the busted headlight was entirely your fault, too. Molly, I thought you could have raised these kids a bit better than that.”

“Than what?” Molly asked, looking back and forth between the two.

“Than throwing a hubcap like that,” Jo replied. “I thought it was gonna take off someone’s head.”

“What, exactly, happened?” Ginny interceded. She recognized the shade of red that her mother’s ears were turning, and it was not good.

“After that dog chased me all across the junkyard and into that pond, Mamaw saw the hubcap that she needed. So I went over to pry it off the car, and it accidentally happened to fly across the yard and hit a car.”

“My car,” snapped Jo. “Not just any car. Mine.”

“It was an accident ”protested Ron. “But then, old Hagrid wandered out of the building to see what we needed, right? And he saw the busted headlight, and found us another one that was the exact same. So, no harm done.”

“Except to my original headlight And then that brute overcharged us for the hubcap,” Jo replied.

“Ten bucks for a headlight and a hubcap is not overcharging,” Ron replied.

“I think it’s highway robbery, what those junkyards get away with,” continued Jo, ignoring Ron’s words completely. “But, anyway, it’s almost time for me to go. Congratulations, dear, on the engagement,” she said to Ginny. “And learn some manners,” she said to Ron. “Goodnight,” she said, and walked out. A few seconds later, her car started, and then pulled away.

Ron, Ginny, and Molly all breathed a sigh of relief.

*

The next morning, Draco woke up, grumbling about the sun and how it shouldn’t shine, and climbed out of bed, or rather, fell out of bed with style and a vague semblance of order.

“Draco ” His mother’s voice drifted through the paper thin walls. “Are you up yet?”

“Glurg,” replied Draco. He hurt. He gingerly moved an arm, and was greeted with pain. As he stood up and stretched, he noted sadly that the pain covered his entire body. Those damn Weasley boys had done him over good.

“Draco, get up ” yelled Narcissa.

“Nurg,” called Draco. Why couldn’t the woman let him suffer in peace?

“Draco, get your lazy ass out of bed now Molly Weasley just called,” Narcissa snapped. It sounded like she was now just outside of the door. True to his prediction, the door swung open to reveal his mother, who looked bright awake. Either she hadn’t yet gone to bed or she had been up a while.

“Why?” he managed to ask.

“Does there have to be a reason for your future in-laws to call?” said Narcissa. She sounded decidedly cranky, and Draco decided that she had just been up a while. She normally sounded blearier when she’d been up all night.

“Well,” Draco said. Why would Mrs. Weasley call his home, and apparently speak to his mother? Surely she wasn’t calling to apologize for her sons’ behavior, he couldn’t even recall her doing that last night. She’d treated him to some wonderful cake, but hadn’t said a single word of apology...

Perhaps she wasn’t quite as fond of him as he had supposed.

“Anyway,” Narcissa said, putting her claw-like nail-tipped hands on her lycra covered hips, “She was inviting us to a barbecue. Said she’d already invited you, and wanted to see if me and your father wanted to come too.”

It was a very good thing that Draco had chosen that moment to sit back down on his bed. “And you said no, right?”

“Of course I didn’t ” Narcissa protested. “I figured, I’ve got the afternoon free, and you know your father isn’t doing anything other than trying to help John-Boy Flint next door to get that damn old car of his started, so I accepted the invitation. I’m gonna take some potato salad.”

“Okay,” said Draco. His parents plus the Weasleys together in one yard so soon after yesterday’s fiasco? There was no way that this could turn out well.

“So, you go on next door and get your father. We’re supposed to be there in a couple hours, it’ll take that long to pry him away from that car and convince him to scrub all the grease off him,” Narcissa continued. “Oh, and feed the dogs while you’re out there.”

“Okay, Mom,” Draco said. “Just let me get dressed.” Last thing he needed today was Pansy Parkinson from down the street to see him outside him his Scooby-Doo boxers. He was pretty sure he would never live down being attacked by her, foaming at the mouth. He tugged on his favorite jeans, the ones that had been faded and worn to perfection, and searched through his bedroom floor, looking for a shirt that wasn’t completely wrinkled and stinky. He finally unearthed an old flannel shirt that didn’t look too bad from behind the closet door, and pulled it on over a slightly rumpled wifebeater.

He went outside after performing his daily beauty ritual, as his mother called it. She seemed to think that he was obsessed with his appearance or something. He wasn’t, though. He just had to make sure his hair wasn’t sticking up in forty different directions before leaving the house, but different strokes for different folks.
He stopped by the dog pen, and poured some kibble into the large dish just inside the pen’s door. Hoss the pit bull dug into the food, snarling just a little as Draco filled the water dish up with the hose. Draco then wandered next door to the Flint’s.

Lucius Malfoy was leaning under the hood of the offending car, with loud clanks and cussing sounding ever few seconds.

“Dad,” said Draco. Lucius stood up too quickly, and hit his head on the latch of the hood.

“Goddamnit ” he yelled, clutching his head.”What do you want, boy?”

“Mom said to get on home,” Draco replied. Well, she had said something similar to that, and he didn’t really want to announce where they were going in front of John-Boy Flint, because then the news of his engagement would spread faster than Pansy’s legs on a first date.

“Fine, I’ll be over in a minute,” replied Lucius. “Hand me that wrench while you’re over there, will ya?”

Draco handed him the wrench. As Lucius took it, Draco noticed for the millionth time in his life the skull and snake tattoo on the inside of his father’s arm. Lucius had long ago told him the story behind the tattoo. He’d apparently gotten very, very drunk on some moonshine someone or another had procured (he was never really very clear on this point) and had then decided that he needed a tattoo. Two hours and a sore arm later, he had the somewhat crudely drawn tattoo that was on his arm today.

Draco thought that the story sounded a little fishy, and that the tattoo looked like a prison tattoo, but he’d never actually asked about his suspicions. No sense getting his dad all grumpy over something as silly as a snake and skull tattoo.

Draco went back home, thankful that John-Boy’s son, Marcus, hadn’t come outside. Marcus was a decent enough guy despite having teeth that made him look like his momma was a donkey, who was a sloppy enough drunk that inviting him to parties was always entertaining, and all in all a pretty good friend of Draco’s. However, he was also great at weaseling information out of people, and Draco really didn’t want his friends to know about his impending marriage just yet. At least not until after he had bought a ring, and no one could say anything about him getting bullied into marrying Ginny.

He really had been intending to propose to Ginny. He just thought that it might wait awhile, until after everything settled down. But he hadn’t wanted to get on Arthur’s bad side. After all, he was going to have to deal with the man at the very least on most holidays from here on out, and the less tension he created, the better.

Maybe after the barbecue he would cruise over into town, and begin to look for a nice ring for Ginny. He had a little bit of money stashed away, and he knew that he could get her a real diamond. Hard telling how big of a diamond, but he’d get her a real one. She didn’t deserve any less.

A few minutes later, true to his word, Lucius Malfoy stepped through the front door of his trailer. “Well, woman, what did you want to tell me?”

“We’re going to a barbecue. Clean yourself up,” replied Narcissa. She was settled on the couch, and was carefully painting her toenails a vivid orange.

“I ain’t going to that rat bastard Snape’s again,” said Lucius. “Remember the incident with the bug spray and the spatula?”

“Yes, I haven’t forgotten that,” snapped Narcissa. “Poor Luella was at the vet’s for a week But this barbecue ain’t at Severus’. It’s at the Weasleys.”

“What?” snapped Lucius. “I’m not about to go to that fool’s house to eat. No telling what he’d put in my food.”

“Molly’s a nice woman,” Narcissa replied. “And what with Draco marrying their daughter, I thought it would be nice if we went, since they went to all the trouble to invite us.”

“But,” Lucius said.

“No buts,” said Narcissa. “Go clean yourself up. We’ve got to be there in an hour and a half.”

An hour and a half later, Lucius and Draco stood next to the door, awaiting inspection from Narcissa.

“You’ve still got a little grease under your fingernails,” she said to Lucius, “And Draco, dear, is that what you’re going to wear?”

“So?” said Lucius.

“Yeah,” said Draco.

“Fine. Look like hooligans, the both of you. And we’re late ” Narcissa said, and swept out the door. Her husband and son followed her, and they climbed into Narcissa’s car without argument.

A few minutes later, the Malfoy family pulled up in front of the Weasley’s home. The afternoon had turned overcast, and there was a cool breeze chilling the summer air.

“Be good, both of you,” Narcissa said as she reapplied her lipstick. She smoothed out her top, and strode up to the front door.

The door swung open before Narcissa could knock, and Mrs. Weasley stood there, beaming. “Hello, dears, come in, come in ”

“Hi, Molly,” replied Narcissa, looking vaguely surprised by the warm welcome.

“Hey,” said Draco.

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything ” exclaimed Molly as she spotted the tupperware container in Narcissa’s hands.

“Oh, I just whipped it up,” replied Narcissa, who had spent a good deal of the morning in the kitchen laboring over it. “My boys adore my potato salad.”

Draco and Lucius both just smiled and nodded quickly, knowing full well that they both despised the potato salad that was shoved down their throats, without fail, every time there was any sort of outdoors meal. Somehow, without fail, Narcissa managed to do something wrong to it, though it was never the same mistake. From the color that Draco had glimpsed when Narcissa had dumped the potato salad into the tupperware container, it was actually the appropriate shade of yellow. He dreaded the moment when he would find out what she had managed to screw up.

“Ginny’s out back,” Molly told him, “with the boys. You can go on back there. We’re hoping that the rain’ll hold off until after we’re done.”

“Okay,” said Draco, and left his parents standing on the Weasley’s front porch as he walked around the house to reach the back yard.

There were two grills set up a little ways from the house, and miscellaneous lawn chairs scattered around the yard.

“Hey, sweetie,” said Ginny upon spotting Draco. “Help us set up the tables?”

“Sure,” he replied, and picked up the other end of the table Ron was standing at. They carried it to the center of the yard, well away from both the grills and the chicken coops.
Ginny, in the meantime, had settled down in a padded patio chair, and was flipping through a magazine.

“I thought there was a ‘help us’ in there,” Draco said, glancing at his girlfriend.

“Well, you know, in my delicate condition it isn’t a good idea for me to be lifting heavy objects.”

“Like a finger,” muttered Ron. Draco managed to stop himself from snorting.

Ginny glared at her brother. “Just get back to work,” she snapped.

“Yes, ma’am,”replied Ron. Fred and George pitched in, and a few minutes later the tables were set up and surrounded by chairs. Molly bustled out of the house, carrying a stack of paper plates and a bag of plastic utensils. Narcissa followed her, holding a stack of plastic cups daintily.

“Good job, boys. It’s about time to start the grill- everything else is pretty much done,” said Molly. “I’ll send your father out here to get it started.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later Arthur came out the back door, followed by Lucius. It was easy to tell that the two men did not get along in the least by the competitive way they slammed the screen door out of the way.

“I’ll just get this started, then,” said Arthur, pouring some charcoal briskets into the grill.

“Put exactly forty briskets in the grill for the best grilling conditions,” Percy called over from his seat at the table. He was reading a pamphlet on fire safety.

Arthur and Lucius just grunted at him as Lucius poured a heap of briskets into his grill. They both reached for the lighter fluid at the same time, and there was a glare down as neither one seemed willing to let the other have first dibs.

“There’s only one way to settle this,” finally gritted out Arthur.

“Fine,” snarled Lucius.

“On the count of three,” said Arthur. “One... Two... Three...”

Fists flew in unison.

“Paper beats rock I win ” cried Lucius triumphantly.

Arthur grudgingly allowed Lucius to take the lighter fluid, and continued to glare as Lucius generously doused his charcoal with the fluid. He then lit the end of some rolled up newspaper, and lit the grill.
Flames erupted with a whoosh.

Arthur glared even more as Lucius calmly stepped away from the grill, which was burning perfectly. He then picked up the lighter fluid, and squirted some onto his charcoal. He then squirted some more onto the charcoal. More was always better, so he put a little more. One last squirt, and he was ready to light his grill.

Lucius stepped back.

The Weasley children had already fled to the far side of the yard.

“He always overdoes the lighter fluid,” Ginny whispered to Draco. “Last time, he fried a bird that happened to be flying overhead. Time before that it was a sapling that was too close to the grill.”

Arthur lit the grill.

A much louder whoosh than Lucius’s could be heard. Flames exploded. Arthur jumped back, shocked.

“It singed me ” he cried out, surprised. His eyebrows were now nonexistent. Lucius looked as though he wanted very much to fall on the ground laughing, but manly pride was holding him back.

The Weasleys were somewhat lacking in manly pride, so they allowed themselves to fall on the ground laughing. Well, Percy just charged up to Arthur, brandishing his fire safety pamphlet.

Only a few of his words were yelled loud enough for Draco to make out over the Weasley’s hootin’ and hollerin’. “I told you...Fire Safety Rule Number Seven... dangerous.... could have been killed ”

Arthur still looked shocked at what had happened. He poked at his grill, where the flames had died out to nothing. He then gingerly felt his forehead, and said, “Ow.”

Molly bustled out of the back door of the house, carrying a bowl of potato salad. “And, so then,Amos comes home to find Selene on the couch with Ludo, and there was this huge ruckus. Yelling and throwing things and then, to make things worse, Amos pulls a gun on Ludo, chases him out on the street, Ludo wearing his birthday suit, mind you...” She trailed off as she got a good look at her husband. Narcissa, who had been following the sordid tale with a rapt expression, scowled at the singed man.

“Do we have any ointment or something that I should put on this?” asked Arthur.

“Arthur How did you... oh, nevermind, I’ve told you a thousand times that you don’t need to soak the charcoal, it doesn’t have to swim in flammable fluid before it lights Go on into the house and put something on your forehead, it looks awful ” Molly exclaimed.

“I’d be sure to clean it real well, if I were you,” said a voice that caused Molly to flinch.

Jo Davis was standing in the yard. She set a large tupperware bowl down on the table, and smiled. “I brought coleslaw. I know how horrid yours always turns out, Molly. You’d think I never taught you anything when it comes to cooking.”
“Momma- what are you doing here?” said Molly. Arthur hurried past her into the house, muttering about fire and burns. “I didn’t invite you ”

“I saw the charcoal out on the porch yesterday, and thought I’d stop by,” said Jo calmly. She then turned her gaze onto Narcissa, who has just crossed the yard to set the tupperware bowl she was holding down. “Who are you?”

Narcissa gave Jo a look that one would think was normally reserved for interesting bugs found in the kitchen. “I,” she said snootily, “have enough manners to wait for formal introductions, rather than to demand someone’s identity like an uncouth-” dramatic pause “-person.”

Jo’s eyes glinted with silent fury. No one had dared to speak to Josephine Davis like that in at least twenty years. She was going to give this hussy a good piece of her mind...

“Momma, this is Narcissa, and that’s Lucius,” Molly jumped in, motioning wildly. “They’re Draco’s parents, you met him last night.” She turned to the Malfoys. “This is my mother, Jo. Please excuse her, she is in dire need of medication.”

“Oh. Malfoys,” Jo said disdainfully. “That would certainly explain their appearance.”

Narcissa fumed, and slammed her tupperware bowl onto the table, pulling off the lid. “Our appearance? I’m certainly not the one wearing enough fake gold to plate a Mercedes.”

Molly looked as though she wanted to cheer Narcissa on, but instead said, “I’m going to check on Arthur, and bring out the burgers. I’ll be right back ”

She fled into the house.

Ginny watched in detached horror as Jo advanced on Narcissa. She’d never seen her mamaw resort to physical violence before, but there was always a first time for everything. She quickly decided to intervene. “Mamaw ” she cried chipperly as she hopped out of her lawn chair.

Jo turned to her only granddaughter. “What?”

Ginny thought fast, and came up with, “Did you get that hubcap on alright?”

Jo blinked. “Yes. I did. Hello, Ron dear,” she called over to the boy who was gingerly sitting on the cushiest lawn chair. “Are those scratches getting better?”

Ron glared. “No, Mamaw, they’re getting worse. If I die, I want it mentioned first thing at my funeral that it’s all your fault.”

“Oh, you’re fine, if you’re healthy enough to make a fuss,” Jo said breezily.

Molly returned with a plate of burgers, and looked happy at the sight of Jo not killing any guests. She handed the plate to Lucius, who put them on the grill wordlessly. He seemed to be going for the unobtrusive approach. He’d learned over many years of dealing with his wife that drawing attention to yourself in a bad situation was just asking for all sorts of trouble.

The big group of Weasleys were already settling themselves around the table, fighting over the best chairs and places. Ginny quickly took a seat at one end, and Draco sat down next to her.

“Thanks for coming,” she said to him softly.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else right now,” he said, going for brownie points. A balled up piece of aluminum foil hit him on the head. “Well, maybe somewhere else... but not with anyone else.”

Ginny smiled, and pushed a strand of red hair behind one ear. Draco, with the kind of bravery that only a love-struck teenager can manage, leaned over and kissed her. Ginny leaned into the embrace, and for the first time since sharing the news of their affair with their families, both were completely happy being with each other.

Unfortunately, their families were present, so their happiness was short lived.

“You’re burning the burgers ” yelled Arthur.

Draco pulled away from Ginny, and was greeted by the sight of five glaring brothers. He was happy to note that none of them were punching anything, or even making fists. Well, that he could see. Perhaps they had received a good talking to after yesterday’s disastrous fight.

“You’re undercooking your burgers,” Lucius replied to Arthur. “Perhaps you should pretend that they’re your eyebrows. You might get them well-done in that case.”

Arthur flushed. “You no good dirty rotten...”

“Boys ” Molly snapped.

“Behave yourselves,” Narcissa added.

Arthur and Lucius continued to mutter, and occasionally flick things at one another, but they made a valiant attempt to behave themselves. Both were trying their best to avoid getting lectured by their wives in front of the other.

Finally, after a short argument concerning the use of spatulas versus tongs, the burgers were on a platter, and set down in the center of the table. Seconds later, the burgers found their way onto thirteen different plates, and were being eaten with the sort of glee that comes when people know that the end of the occasion is near.

Draco helped himself to his mother’s potato salad warily, while avoiding the large bowl of coleslaw. He refused to eat anything that Jo had fixed, she’d probably poison them all without so much as a second thought.

Jo herself had settled herself down across from them. He did his best to avoid looking at her as he took a tentative bite of the potato salad. He waited to crunch down on something, or for the taste to make him gag, but it didn’t happen.

He took another bite.

He then unobtrusively checked the bowl that he had spooned it out of. Amazingly enough, it wasthe same one his mother had brought- he recognized the permanent marker scribble on the side.

Meanwhile, Lucius and Arthur were glaring at each other over their food. The two older couples had settled down at the other end of the table, with the Weasley boys scattered around the middle.

“Your potato salad is marvelous, Molly,” Narcissa said.

“As is yours, Narcissa,” Molly replied. Lucius’s head popped up, and he stared at the woman for a second. She did indeed take another bite of his wife’s potato salad, and didn’t turn the slightest shade of green.

Narcissa kicked him under the table. “Stop looking so surprised,” she hissed.

“Did you make that?” he replied.

“Of course I did ” shot back Narcissa.

Lucius raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I bought it. Same difference,” hissed Narcissa.

“So, um, what do you do for a living?” Arthur asked. While in the house, Molly had told him that he had better treat the Malfoys nice if he didn’t want to sleep on the couch until Christmas. The couch had a very uncomfortable spring sticking out of the middle cushion, so he had decided to heed her warning.

“Do?” Lucius asked. “I don’t do anything.”

“Oh, you’re unemployed?” Arthur said with a superior tone.

“More like self employed,” Lucius replied. “And what menial job do you toil away at?”

Arthur mumbled, “I’m a mechanic.”

“I see.”

The conversation continued in this vein as the food dwindled and the sky darkened.

Jo had been chatting to Ginny and Draco, who both looked alarmed at the sweetness the woman was showing to them both. She had just begun to speculate what color their baby’s hair would be when Lucius pushed away from the table.
“I think it’s about time for us to head on out,” he said.

“It’s been lovely,” Narcissa said with a polite smile.

“Wait,” Jo said.

Everyone looked at her.

“I have a proposition to make,” Jo continued. “I was thinking over this whole situation, and I realized that these two,” she motioned towards Draco and Ginny, “have no where to live. And I was thinking about me, rattling around in my big old house, and I’ve come up with a solution. Once they’ve gotten married, they’re more than welcome to stay with me Of course, I wouldn’t charge rent or anything. Just a little help around the place would suffice.”

Silence greeted her announcement.

And then the clouds overhead finally did as they had been threatening all day, and rain poured from the heavens.

Everyone scrambled to grab food and other non-waterproof items off the tables as the rain poured down. Jo’s announcement was forgotten as the hoard of people rushed inside, fighting to get through the back door first.

Draco and Ginny huddled in the corner as everyone complained loudly about getting wet.

“What the hell are we going to do about that woman’s invitation?” Draco hissed.

“I have no clue! She never even mentioned it to me!” Ginny replied.

“I’m not living with her,” Draco said firmly.

“But we can’t just say no,” Ginny replied. “What if we don’t have any other options?”

“We will have other options if it includes a cardboard box and a trash fire,” gritted out Draco.

“It won’t get to that point, I should hope,” Ginny replied. “Oh, no, here she comes!”

They both watched in horror as Jo pushed her way through the crowded kitchen to stand before them. Everyone else turned to watch the young couple.

“So, what do you say? Are you going to take my generous offer?” Jo asked.

“Um, we’d prefer to... keep our options open, right now, Mamaw,” Ginny replied in the most diplomatic tone she could muster.

Jo raised an eyebrow. “If that’s the way you feel... I’ll be there.”

Ginny felt that Jo might be doing something completely underhanded and evil, but for the life of her couldn’t figure it out. She therefore decided to nod mutely, and was relieved when Narcissa announced that while she and her family had a wonderful time, they really must be going.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” Draco said quietly. “I’ll pick you up here, and take you out for dinner.”

“Alright, see you then,” Ginny replied, and kissed him soundly on the lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Draco said quietly, and followed his parents out of the kitchen.

**

Early the next afternoon, Draco looked at a display of rings. A feeling of despair swept over him. Why oh why had he chosen to come alone? Any help at all would have been better than staring at the rows of rings, all shiny and sparkly and quite frankly just alike in every aspect but price.

“May I help you?”

He jumped, and looked up to see a professionally dressed woman standing beside him.

“Um,” he said. “How much are these, anyways?” He pointed at the row of engagement rings.

The woman replied with a number that made Draco’s jaw drop slightly.

“For all of them?” he asked.

The woman laughed as though he had made a witty joke, then looked at him, and realized that he was serious. “Perhaps you would like to look at these rings,” she said, leading him over to a corner of the shop.

He peered into the case, and squinted at the rings inside. Yes, if he turned his head just right, he could see the diamonds in these rings. He asked the price, and found out that he could afford one of these.

He stared at the rings for a few more minutes, looking at the minuscule diamonds in the plain gold, then said, “I don’t think I’m interested.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, but Draco just bolted from the jewelry shop. Ginny deserved way better than those cheap looking rings that he could afford from the real jewelry shop. He sighed, and climbed into his car. He just hoped that Ginny wouldn’t ask him where he bought her ring...

He drove to the other side of town, and surveyed the sign. Borgin and Burkes Pawn Shop was a seedy looking place stuck in a run down strip mall.

“Ahh, Mr. Malfoy. So good to see you,” said Billy Borgin as he entered.

“Hi,” replied Draco. He glanced around the pawn shop, at the racks of overpriced stereos and the cluttered shelves of electronics and car parts. He went to the back of the store, where the register and the glass cases filled with the easily stolen items were located.

He peered in the cases, noticing that there was a new gleaming Colt that looked like it would be a blast to try out... but that wasn’t what he was here for. He looked into the jewelry case for a moment.

“Need any help?” asked Borgin.

“Well...” said Draco. Borgin raised an eyebrow. “I’m looking for a ring.”

“I haven’t taken any rings,” Borgin said immediately.

“I mean I’m looking to buy a ring,” Draco snapped, then muttered, “Dumbass,” under his breath.

“I see,” said Borgin. “How about this?” He held up a delicate ring with a massive glittering stone.

Draco gave him the patented look of Malfoy superiority, and said, “I want something real, not something I could have got out of a gumball machine. I’m looking for an engagement ring.”

“Oh!” said Borgin. He rooted around the glass case some more, and came up with three other rings that Draco deemed unworthy for his future bride. Just when Draco had begun to resign himself to having to buy one of the cheap rings from the jeweler, Borgin said, almost hesitantly, “There is one other ring...”

“Really,” Draco drawled. “Why are you just now sharing this fact with me?”

“Well, I’m technically not allowed to sell it yet... The owner has another week to pay me back. But I think it’s just what you’re looking for...” With that, Borgin disappeared into the back room, and came out with a small velvet box.

He nervously opened the box, and revealed a gorgeous white gold diamond ring. Draco knew immediately that this was the ring he had to get Ginny. It was sparkly and pretty, and looked very expensive. Ginny would love it.

“I want that ring,” he said, leaving no room for Borgin to bring up the small technicality that he wasn’t allowed to sell the ring yet.

“It’ll cost you,” replied Borgin.

Draco just sneered. Borgin had obviously forgotten who he was speaking to. His father had managed to procure at least half of Borgin’s more valuable merchandise, and there was no way that Borgin was going to try and get a big chunk of change from him over a ring.

He carefully counted out half of the money he had planned on spending on the ring, and laid it on the counter. “There you go,” he said.

Borgin looked at the pile of bills, and shook his head. “I have twice that in the ring. I’d be losing money if I took any less than that.”

Draco looked at him, and said, “You want twice that amount?”

Borgin looked reluctant to answer, but said weakly, “Yes. I’m afraid I c-can’t let you have it for any less.”

Draco looked at him doubtfully, then noticed Bubba Burkes lurking behind Borgin. Bubba made a threatening motion with one beefy fist, and Draco felt compelled to agree to the price Borgin had set, though he prided himself on not showing his intimidation to Borgin.
“Fine,” Draco said, and was mildly pleased at the relieved expression on Borgin’s face.. No wonder his father got such a kick out of manipulating this man. He handed over the money, and took the ring. He was halfway back out to his car when he realized the minor problem he had.

He was broke.

He had promised Ginny he would take her out tonight, and he had planned on asking her officially to marry him during dinner. He hadn’t exactly thought of where he would take her yet, but he’d had a vague idea of somewhere fancy, somewhere he had never taken her before.

Unfortunately, with exactly twenty-seven dollars and forty-seven cents to his name, it would be near impossible to take her to any restaurant. She had the habit of ordering expensive, and even cheap places cost quite a bit when he took her out.

He climbed into his car, considering the situation very carefully.

**

Ginny pulled a brush through her hair once more before deciding that she looked nice enough to go out.

“Mom? Is Draco here yet?” she called, picking her bag off her dresser. Her room was tiny, barely enough room for her twin bed, dresser, bookshelf, and desk, but she loved it. The walls were covered in pictures and cutouts from magazines, and she kept everything mostly neat.

“No, dear, he isn’t,” replied Molly

Ginny checked the time, and noticed with frustration that Draco still had twenty minutes to show up before he was late. “Damn,” she muttered to herself. She was anxious to see him again.

And it wasn’t just because she wanted to see what color his face had turned today. Though she admittedly was cheerfully awaiting the day his bruises turned yellow.

She turned off her light, and went into the living room to wait. Just as she sat down on the couch, she heard the familiar rumble of Draco’s car.

“Draco’s here! I’m heading out!” she said, hopping up. This was exciting. It was the very first time Draco had picked her up at her house for a date. Normally she had to force Colin Creevey to pick her up, and drop her off in town.

“Be careful!” said Molly. “Buckle up! And don’t be out too late!”

“Alright, Mom,” replied Ginny.

Molly looked reluctant to allow her daughter to go out, but waved good-bye anyway.

“Hey there, puddin’ pie,” she said as she slid into the passenger side of the car. “Where are we headin’?”

“You’ll see,” replied Draco as he pulled out of her driveway. Ginny sensed that he was forcing himself to not peel out, and appreciated his restraint. No telling how riled up her daddy would be if he heard the car holding his pregnant teenage daughter peeling out.

As they went down the road, Draco reached back into the backseat, and pulled out a bouquet of daisies. “Here.”

Ginny took the flowers, and let out a happy squeal. “You bought me flowers! You’ve never bought me flowers before!”

She decided to ignore the fact that the $4.97 price tag from Walmart was still stuck to the plastic wrapping.

A few minutes later, Draco pulled to a stop at the restaurant. Ginny looked around, slightly aghast.

“We’re eating here?” she said, her voice going slightly shrill.

“Yeah,” replied Draco, looking around. “Why?”

“But-but I thought you were taking me somewhere special!”

“I said it was going to be a special evening! I never said I was taking you somewhere special!” protested Draco.

Ginny glared, and crossed her arms grumpily. Then she looked down at the flowers he’d bought her. He was trying... and the daisies were pretty...

“I want a burger and fries and a lemonade,” she said.

“Alright,” said Draco, leaning out his window and pressing the button to order.

“Welcome to Sonic, may I take your order?” came a teeny voice. Draco ordered, and then sat back.

“How’s everything going at home?” he asked her.

“Fine, I guess... This morning Ron had the nerve to try and give me a lecture on how my life is ruined and how, if I had any sense of decency whatsoever, I wouldn’t marry you and would instead commit myself to a nunnery.”

“And did you tell him that if he had any decency whatsoever, he would shut the hell up, and go play on the interstate for a while, in hopes of making everyone around him happier?”

“No, but I did say a few choice things about Hermione that made him shut right up.”

Draco grinned at her, and Ginny felt flutters in her stomach that had nothing whatsoever to do with the bun that was currently baking away. Well, nothing directly to do with it. She leaned forward to meet his kiss, when a she heard a familiar voice screech, “Is that you, Ginny Weasley?”

Ginny jerked her head back, and to her horror saw Lavender Brown standing beside the car, holding a tray of food. Of all the people to carhop for them, it had to be one of the biggest gossips from Gryffindor. Draco also looked disappointed, though whether it was from the interrupted kiss or the potential for disaster that was unfolding was hard to tell.

“Hi, Lavender,” she said in a hopefully chipper tone.

Lavender looked at Draco, who was looking up at her. “Hi, Draco.” Her voice was unmistakably flirtatious. Ginny involuntarily clenched her fists as she glared at the girl.

“Lavender, was it?” Draco asked. “How much?”

Ginny barely held back a very unladylike snort as Lavender collected the money for their food, and cast a speculative glance back at the couple.

“So,” Lavender said, “Should I expect to see you two here together again?”

“Hard telling,” said Draco, peering at his shake. “My shake doesn’t look very chocolatey.”

Ginny looked over his shoulder also, and nodded her agreement. “It is a rather pathetic chocolate shake.”

Lavender didn’t seem too pleased with the evasive answer, but was forced to go back to work as a heavyset woman leaned out of building and yelled for her to get her skinny hiney back in there.

“She was totally drooling all over you!” Ginny exclaimed as she took a big bite of her burger.

“Yeah, she was,” said Draco, leaning back. “Can’t blame her.”

Ginny smacked at him as she stole one of his fries, though she had to silently agree.

“Hey, Gin, will you get me the tire gauge out of the glove box?” Draco asked as they finished up their meal.

Ginny rolled her eyes, and said, “I swear, you care more about the car than you do about me.”

Then she opened the glove box, and immediately noticed an open black velvet box that was open to reveal a gorgeous ring.

“Good God almighty, is that for me?”she choked out, temporarily flabbergasted.

“It is,” said Draco. “Wanna marry me?”

“Of course I do!” exclaimed Ginny. Draco leaned over, took the ring out of the glove box, and slid it onto her finger. Then they met in a slow, lingering kiss.

They were interrupted suddenly by a banging on the window. Ginny looked out the window to see Lavender standing there, looking in at them speculatively. Ginny and Draco looked back and forth at each other, then Draco rolled his window down.

“Hello, Lavender,” Draco drawled.

“Hi ” said Lavender.

There was a long pause.

“Did you want something?” Draco asked.

“No I mean, yes Yes, I did want something ” Lavender said, flustered.

“Well?” Ginny asked with an impatient flick of her hand. Lavender’s eyes grew large as she looked at Ginny’s hand.

“Is that an engagement ring?” she asked.

“That’s what you wanted?” Draco asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m only supposed to give out one.”

Lavender flushed and Ginny smacked him. “Shut up,” Ginny hissed.

“So you two are getting hitched?” Lavender said, recovering nicely from her embarrassment. “That’s rather unexpected.”

“I didn’t think so,” Ginny replied.

“Well,” Lavender said.

“Well,” Draco agreed. “We’ll be off now. Do be a dear and not mention this to anyone.”

He then pulled out of the parking spot, leaving Lavender standing next to the menu.

“Everyone in town is going to know by morning, if not sooner,” Ginny said, twisting her hand around to watch the sparkle of her ring.

“You know, they probably are,” Draco agreed.

“Maybe we should have, you know, mentioned it to our friends. This is probably going to come as a shock to them,” she continued.
“Too late now,” Draco said. He slowed down the car as he turned onto a narrow, bumpy back road. A few minutes later, he pulled into a small gravel lot and cut the engine. He pulled a blanket from the backseat, and said, “Continue this outside?”

“Sure,” Ginny said, and climbed out. A few minutes later the newly engaged couple were sitting on the shore of a lake, with Ginny leaning back into Draco’s arms. As dusk settled over them, they kissed, it deepening into intensity as they forgot about everything that was happening to them and all their troubles, lost in one another.

They didn’t get home until late.

*

Pansy Parkinson stalked down the street towards the Malfoy’s trailer. She had heard the most disturbing news earlier that morning. Surely it couldn’t be true- everyone knew that Millicent Bulstrode lived for racy gossip, so it was completely plausible that she’d just made it up to cause a ruckus.

After all, the entire idea was preposterous, really. There was no way in hell that her Draco would ever get involved with one of those horrid Weasleys, and even if he did want to have an affair with a Weasley surely he could have picked a more attractive one that Ginny? Pansy rather thought that the long haired one was rather handsome, surely he was more Draco’s type than slutty Ginny Weasley? She shook her head. No, Draco shouldn’t be involved with any Weasley. She cursed Millicent for even bringing up the concept.

She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her left foot, and realized a rock had gotten into her sandal. As she bent down to remove the rock when she heard a girlish giggle come from the Malfoy’s yard. She quickly ducked down behind some bushes, and slunk towards the Malfoy’s yard, using the Flint’s unkempt yard to her advantage. She peered around the edge of the trailer to see Ginny Weasley sitting on the hood of Draco’s car.

How dare that little skank sit her big butt on Draco’s beautiful car? Who knew where it’d been She was probably even denting the hood, as she was not the lightest chicken in the coop, despite the fact her parents could scarcely afford to feed their brood.

Pansy thought it was scandalous how Ginny had the audacity to not starve herself into a size two like Pansy had. And that garish red hair Everyone knew that bleach blond was a much more attractive color, and so much more classy.

She crouched down beside the trailer, continuing to peer at the scene that was unfolding. Draco was now within her view, and she watched as he walked up to Ginny, and it didn’t appear that he was telling her to get off his car. No, to the contrary, he was now standing between the skank’s knees and now he was leaning in and kissing her and that most definitely was not an unfriendly kiss. Pansy watched, horrified, as Draco’s hands moved south and the trollop arched herself against him. That could not be happening And she could see in the late morning light a sparkling ring on the skank’s ring finger.

Pansy bit back the wail that threatened to escape, and gripped the side of the trailer, forcing herself to stay hidden rather than going and strangling the skank. However, she couldn’t stop herself from falling over as she saw Lucius Malfoy stroll out of the house, completely ignore his son practically mating with a Weasley not ten feet away, and climb into his car and drive off.

Had the world gone mad?

She stood up, brushing off her mini skirt and tugging at her tube top. Once everything was in place, she looked up only to see Draco and the Weasley staring at her.

“Pansy?” Draco asked. “What were you doing behind there?”

“Nothing,” she snapped. “What were you doing over there?”

“I’d rather think it was obvious,” replied Draco. “Were you spying on us?”

“Spying? Why would I be spying on you when you’re putting on a show for the whole neighborhood right there?” Pansy replied coldly. “And with that Weasley skank, at that.”

The Weasley skank in question’s eyes flashed and she took a step forward. She refused to stand for being called a skank by a trailer trash slut. Draco, however, put an arm out and stopped her.

“Calm down, Gin. That’s not good for you.”

“Well, I’m not going to let her get away with that,” she snarled, only to be forcibly held back by Draco. “Come on, Draco, let me go ”

Draco looked as though he might want to see the excellent cat fight that would ensue, but had the presence of mind to be concerned over the health of his unborn child. Pansy was still standing there, sneering at them.

“Yeah, let her go,” Pansy said. “See if the skank can hold her own.”

Ginny stopped struggling against Draco, and stood up a little taller. She wasn’t going to take that kind of insult, but she didn’t have to go all caveman on the trailer trash either.

“You’re just jealous,” Ginny snapped.

Pansy smirked. “Ain’t nothing I haven’t had before.”

Ginny spun on Draco. “You never mentioned that to me,” she said accusingly.

“It never came up,” he replied with a shrug.

“We’re definitely going to discuss this later,” she said. Draco didn’t look the least bit worried.

Ginny stalked up to Pansy, who looked down at the shorter girl, nose held high. “So, is the rumor true?”

“What’s the rumor?”

“I hear you and Draco are going to get hitched, but I didn’t believe a word of it,” Pansy said.

Ginny just flourished her hand, where her engagement ring flashed with what Pansy interpreted as pure malice. She reached for the girl’s hand, wanting a closer look at the ring when she suddenly got a closer look than she had hoped for.

Pansy crumbled to the ground as Ginny’s fist connected soundly with her nose.

Draco stared at the girl lying on the gravel, whose skirt had ridden up far enough so that if he turned his head just to the left, just a little, he could see her-

Smack.

Draco rubbed his cheek which was stinging. He hoped that there wouldn’t be a red mark, that would be embarrassing to explain.

“You slept with- with that?” Ginny demanded.

“Gin,” Draco began, trying to figure out the best line of defense. “It isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “You slept with the girl known near and far for, well, how far she’ll go. How can that not be bad?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t bad ” Draco said. “It was way before I got with you, anyways.”

“Way before? How many other girls have you had since then?” Ginny snapped.

“Well,” he began before coming up with the perfect counter. “How many guys did you sleep with? You aren’t exactly virgin pure yourself, you know.”

Ginny floundered. “That’s not the point ”

“So if I happen to find out who one of them was, then I can punch them out?”

“No ” Ginny snapped.

Draco looked pointedly at Pansy, who was beginning to stir. Ginny looked at Pansy, and then said stiffly, “I didn’t hit her because you slept with her.”

“You didn’t?” Draco asked with a smirk.

“No, I didn’t. I hit her because she called me a skank,” Ginny said in her best that’s-final tone.

“Gudd,” Pansy groaned, turning over. She reached up and patted her nose tenderly. “Stubid bitch.”

Ginny glared down at the girl, then said, “Come on, Draco. We’re almost late for lunch with my mother.”

“Dearie ” Narcissa called out the front door of the trailer. “Telephone...”

She looked at Pansy, who was just now pushing herself up into a sitting position, legs splayed out and touching her nose gingerly. She looked at Ginny, who was tugging Draco’s arm and looking a mite guilty. She looked at her son, who looked mildly interested and angry and complacent simultaneously.

“What’s going on out here?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” replied Draco immediately.

“Nothing?” she raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

“Well, it is nothing,” Ginny said. Narcissa glanced at her, then stared at her son. He was the weak link as far as she was concerned.

“Draco, dear,” she said, playing up the motherly concern. “Why is Miss Parkinson on the ground?”

“Because dat bitch hit me ” Pansy snapped, pointing at Ginny.

“Are you sure?” Narcissa asked the girl. “Ginny doesn’t seem the violent type to me.”

“Well, she is,” Pansy insisted, followed by a mutter that Narcissa thought sounded like ‘skank.’

Ginny growled, and moved towards Pansy, only to be held back by Draco.

“Pansy,” Narcissa said. “I think it’s time for you to go home. Tell your mother I said thanks for that lemon meringue pie she sent last week. Draco, your aunt is on the telephone.”

Pansy stood up, teetering on her high heeled sandals. “I’m not gonna forget dis,” she said to Ginny, and then headed back up the street.

Ginny followed Draco into the house, where he flopped onto the couch and accepted the telephone from his mother. Narcissa then disappeared back into her room to beautify herself for the meeting she was attending that night.

“Hey,” he said. “How’re you doing, Aunt Bella? Yeah, I know, prison isn’t fun. But you got paroled, right? What do you mean, it’s about time? They do tend to look down on things like that, you know. Well, I’m just saying it’s not like you stole some socks or something. You did break quite a few... Yes, I have respect for my elders, Aunt Bella. So, you’ll be coming home soon? Next week? That’s great... What? Where at? Are you sure? Half the rent and utilities? Yeah, I think so... I’ll have to ask... Okay, bye.”
Ginny sat there, looking at him. “What was all that about?”

“That was my aunt Bella. She offered to let us live with her.”

“I distinctly heard the words ‘prison’ and ‘parole’ in there.”

“Well, yeah,” Draco shifted under Ginny’s glare. “She’s not like some evil babykiller or something. She just... got mixed up in the wrong crowd.”

“And you want us to move in with her?”

“Well... see, she’s moving in over on Felton Drive,” Draco said.

“Felton Drive?” Ginny asked, interest piqued. “How’d she get a house over there? There are never any vacancies.”

Draco shrugged. “She got a good deal, too. Something about knowing the owner.”

“Is she tolerable?” Ginny asked.

“More tolerable than any of our other options,” Draco said diplomatically.

“Okay then,” Ginny said.

**
Later that week:


Draco knocked on the door, and entered the Weasley’s home. He was a little less nervous about coming into his girlfriend-no, fiance’s home now that his bruises were healed up and her brothers had seen the ring.

“Good news, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said to him immediately. “About the job.”

Ginny looked up from her magazine, alarmed. “Job?”

“You didn’t mention it yet? Oh, I didn’t mean to spoil the surprise,” Mrs. Weasley said to Draco, who looked less than thrilled.

“Well, I only got the job fifteen minutes ago,” Draco said, a mite annoyed.

“You... got a job,” Ginny said.

“Yes.”

Ginny blinked. That was rather unexpected. She knew, of course, that husbands worked and that babies cost money that they currently didn’t have, but she’d rather figured that Draco would show up one day with a pillowcase filled with small bills, telling her to not mention it and that to say he had been home all evening if anyone asked. An actual job had never figured much into her thoughts.

“Um, where are you working?” she asked.

“The garage,” he mumbled.

“With Arthur ” Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully. “Isn’t it going to be a wonderful experience for you two to get to know one another?”

“Wonderful,” Draco said through gritted teeth.

“Mom, I think that Draco would like a glass of iced tea,” Ginny said, feeling the need for a private talk.

“Okay, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, picking up easily on the ‘we need to talk’ vibe and bustling out of the room.

“Do you want to work at the garage?” Ginny asked immediately.

“Well, yeah. It pays good and I do like to work on cars,” Draco replied. “Though I didn’t exactly want to work with your father- no offence- but he offered the job and he said he’d give me time off when I needed it.”

“But do you think you can stand to work for him?” Ginny asked, thinking about the grease that would never come out from under his fingernails once he started working at the garage.

“I think so,” said Draco.

“When do you start?” she asked.

“In two weeks- I’m replacing that old bastard Mad Eye,” Draco replied.

Ginny was sure he was gloating over that one. He and Mad Eye had not seen eye to eye since an incident four years ago. Draco had been in a fight with Harry Potter after some words had been exchanged at the Labor Day fireworks display. Mad Eye had broken up the fight by pulling the head off the Fairview High team mascot, Frederick the Ferret, and shoving it on Draco, then pushing him ever so gently into the kids’ giant dragon-shaped bouncing pit, where Draco had floundered and been thrown in the air by bouncing children for a good five minutes.

“I guess that’s okay by me,” Ginny said, giving her all-powerful seal of approval.

Draco leaned over and kissed her to celebrate her approval for his first foray into the working force.

Mrs. Weasley chose that moment to make a return, holding a pitcher of tea and a dish of pasta. “I brought the pasta salad.”
Ginny took one whiff of it, and bolted from the room.

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley. “She’s been doing that a lot lately.”

Draco stood, and followed his fiancé.

“Is she okay?” Mrs. Weasley called, unconcerned.

Draco, who was hovering near the bathroom door, called back, “She’s fine. Just a little sick... She seems better already.”

Ginny stepped out of the bathroom, looking unhappy. “I hate you,” she told Draco. They went into the Weasley’s kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley had put the offending pasta back into the fridge.

“What do you want, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“I think just a ham sandwich is fine. No mayo,” Ginny replied.

Mrs. Weasley made two ham sandwiches, no mayo, and handed them to the young couple. “There you go, dears.”

Draco stared at his sandwich. He had wanted mayo on his. He considered asking for it, but then glanced sideways at Ginny, who had taken a bite happily and looked not the slightest bit ill. Suddenly, mayo didn’t seem all that appetizing.

“So,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Have you picked out your dress yet?”

For a horrifying second, Draco thought that she was speaking to him, and he frantically wondered what he had forgotten that involved cross-dressing. Surely Mrs. Weasley hadn’t heard about last year’s Slytherin celebration party, not that he had been a willing participant in any of the incidents that had occurred.

“No, Mom, I haven’t,” Ginny said, unwittingly saving Draco from the embarrassment of protesting any possible cross-dressing tendencies.

“Well, you should get to it. You don’t have all the time in the world, you know,” Mrs. Weasley tutted. “After all, the wedding is going to be on the Fourth of July.”

Ginny and Draco both froze. “What?”

“That’s the plan... Me and Narcissa got to talking, and we decided that a picnic wedding on Independence Day would be fantastic.”

“Mom-”

“I’ve talked to Hermione, and Fleur, and Angelina and Katie, and Penelope, and they’ve all agreed to be bridesmaids Hermione said that she saw some beautiful dresses down at Goody’s, a lovely shade of light yellow, that can be the bridesmaids dresses ” Mrs. Weasley paused, smiling widely. “It’s going to be so beautiful My baby girl’s getting married ”

Ginny finally managed to speak up. “Um, Mom, can’t I, you know, plan my wedding?”

“Well, when were you thinking?”

“I... hadn’t, exactly,”Ginny said. “I guess the Fourth is okay.”

“And we should go dress shopping- this weekend okay?” Mrs. Weasley asked in a tone that meant that this weekend was going to be okay regardless of prior plans.

Ginny nodded wordlessly.

Draco was feeling like a steamroller had just hit him. “I hate to eat and run, but we’ve really got to be going,” he said, and pulled Ginny from her chair.

As they pulled out of the driveway, both started talking at once.

“How could she...”

“I don’t know what she was thinking...”

“That’s in like two weeks ”

“There’s no way...”

They looked at each other.

“We’re getting married ”

“Soon ”

“Eep ”

A few moments of silence.

“You know,” Draco said, “I really, really don’t want some big wedding that our mothers have planned.”

“Me either,” Ginny said. “Why can’t we just get married without some big celebration and all that? Because, frankly, our families and friends together is just a recipe for the worst wedding ever.”

A lightbulb simultaneously lit for them both, and they grinned at one another before starting to make their plans.

Draco was wondering if they were doing the right thing when his dad yelled for him.

“I’m coming ” he yelled back, and made his way into the living room. Lucius was sitting in his favorite chair, and looked mostly sober.

“Sit down, boy,” Lucius said. Draco obeyed.

“What’s up?” Draco asked. His father never randomly called him in to talk, as it was becoming increasingly evident that that was what was happening. This probably had something to do with the wedding.

“Well, boy, as it seems that you’re doing a good thing and marrying that Weasley girl, I thought I would help you out a bit.”

“Help me out?” Draco asked, perplexed. Lucius hadn’t helped him out in a couple of years, preferring the ‘he’ll figure it out’ method of teenager rearing.

Lucius reached into the front pocket of his flannel shirt, and pulled out something. Two somethings. “These were my parent’s wedding bands,” he said. “The damn minister tried to get me to bury them with the old bastard and Momma, but I wasn’t about to thrown perfectly good gold in the ground to rot.”

Draco accepted the two rings, and inspected them closely. The larger was plain gold, while the daintier ring had an inscription on the inside. “I will cherish you forever.” He wondered if the inscription was referring to the ring or the wife.

“Thanks,” he said, surprised that his father had thought of giving these rings to him.

“Don’t mention it. Ever,” Lucius said. “My sister would have a conniption if she knew these weren’t underground.”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh, glad that his father was the opportunist that he was.

Lucius looked at those rings for a minute, and then said, “I’m proud of you, you know. I might not tell you, but you’ve turned out alright.”

“You’ve been alright too,” Draco said. “And just to set your mind at ease... Me and Ginny decided that we aren’t up to this big hoopla of a wedding Mom and them are wanting.”

Lucius smiled as he took a swig of his Bud. “Thank God for that... Want me to break that to your ma so you don’t have to?”
“That would be great,” Draco said, feeling relieved. “And do you think Mom could, you know, call the Weasleys?”

“I might be able to convince her to,” replied Lucius. “Go on, now.”

Draco hurried out of the room.

A little while later, he pulled up in front of the Weasley’s house and honked the horn.

Inside, Ginny was frantically shoving what she thought she would need into a duffel bag. Looking around her room, she decided that she had everything she needed. Then she remembered to grab some clean socks, and then zipped her bag. Leaving her room in a rush, Ginny called to her mother, “We’re going out Be back sometime ”

She then ran out the door to where Draco was waiting in the driveway.

**

“This is it,” said Draco seriously as he stared at the building. They were sitting in the idling car, both feeling the immensity of what they were about to do.

“No turning back,” said Ginny, resting a hand on her still-flat stomach.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have the wedding your mother is planning?” he asked.

Ginny gave him the look she reserved for especially stupid comments. “Of course I don’t... that would be the worst wedding ever. That ho Hermione as my bridesmaid? Fleur hitting on you during the ceremony? Our fathers getting into a fistfight and knocking over the cake special-ordered from Wal-mart? I’d much rather not face all that.”

“But are you okay with getting married here? I know it’s probably not what you planned...”

“Not at all, but then...” Ginny said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You aren’t exactly what I planned either.”

Draco grinned. “My mother is going to have a cow when she hears about this.”

Ginny laughed. “Mine’ll probably never let me hear the end of it. ‘How could you do that?’ she’ll say. She’ll go on and on about all her plans and how pretty it would have been...”

“But we both know it would be a disaster.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said with a giggle. “What if Pansy had shown up?”

“I woulda got free entertainment. Though I just realized that I don’t get a bachelor party this way...” Draco said.

“And I won’t get my bachelorette party... I was looking forward to that stripper, too. Hermione was hiring Oliver Wood.” Ginny said thoughtfully.

“Oliver Wood? The old QB for Gryffindor?” Draco snorted. “Why would you want to see him when you’ve got me?”

Ginny diplomatically decided to not comment. There had been many a fierce battle amongst the girls over who had the best body, Draco or Oliver, and she had wanted find out for herself. Not firsthand, of course. Just some close observations.

“You know,” she said. “We don’t have to mention this until after the parties.”

Draco gave her a look. “Do you really want me to go to a bachelor’s party after we’re already married?”

“Well,” Ginny said, thinking wistfully of Oliver Wood’s famous gyrations. “Probably not.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied. “Though I do rather wish that I’d bought a dress.”

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” Draco asked.

“It just isn’t a big frilly wedding dress like my Barbies always had,” Ginny said. She was wearing a white lace-trimmed tank top with a short denim skirt. Draco had dressed up in black jeans and a plain black t-shirt. “Wait,” she said. “Do I have something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue?”

She took inventory of her outfit. “Well, I bought the top last week- that counts as new, right?”

“Right,” Draco said.

“And my engagement ring is old,” she continued. “But I’m not wearing blue Or something borrowed We can’t get married yet ”

Draco opened the glove box, rooted around, and came up with a black bandana. “You can borrow this,” he said, rolling it up and reaching over to raise her skirt up some. He then tied the bandana around her leg garter-style.

He then opened the car door, and disappeared around the back of the car. Ginny sat there, straightening her skirt and hair and making sure that her make-up was perfect until Draco reappeared a minute later. “Here’s your something blue,” he said, holding out a small bluebell obviously picked from the real estate office next door’s flowerbed.

Ginny giggled as he tucked it behind her ear, kissing her softly.

“Ready now?” Draco asked.
Ginny licked her lips nervously and nodded.

Draco shifted the car into get, and pulled around to the rear of the building, where they passed under an sign that read, “The Tunnel of Love.” White plastic bells and streamers decorated the entrance to the tunnel, which in all actuality was nothing more than a glorified car port.

Draco pulled the car to a stop outside of a small window that slid open just like at a McDonald’s drive through.

“Welcome to the Tunnel of Love, the only drive-through wedding chapel in the county I need to see two forms of identification, including one picture I.D for each of you,” said the squeaky-voiced, acne-scarred employee with a nametag that said, “Stan”.

Draco and Ginny both dug out the requested identification, and handed them to Stan.

“Alrighty,” said Stan, looking over the driver’s licenses and library cards. “This looks to be all in order. Just let me fill out these forms, and we’ll get to the vows.”

He shut the window, and disappeared into the building.

Ginny giggled madly. “I can’t believe you talked me into getting married in this car.”

“I love this car ” said Draco. “And it is the reason we’re getting hitched, ain’t it?”

“True,” Ginny said with a wistful glance at the backseat.

Just then, Stan showed back up at the window. “Are you ready to take your vows?”

“Yeah,” Draco and Ginny replied.

“Okay. Do you, Ginny Sue Weasley, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, all that yadda, til death do you part?”

“I do,” Ginny said.

“And do you, Draco Ashley Malfoy, take this--” Stan was suddenly interrupted by Ginny’s mad snort of laughter.

“What?” snapped Draco.

Ginny had her head thrown back, shrieking with laughter. “Your middle name is Ashley?”

“Yes,” said Draco stiffly. “I’m trying to marry you, woman, so stop laughing at me.”
“Okay,” said Ginny, trying to regain her composure. “But I have to ask... how’d you end up with that name?”
“Can’t we just get married?” Draco pleaded.

“Not until I find out,” Ginny said primly.

“My mom’s big into Gone with the Wind, okay?” said Draco hurriedly, then addressed Stan. “Continue, now.”

“No, wait,” said Ginny. “So how come you never mentioned your middle name before now?”

“Did it ever come up?” Draco asked despairingly. Of all the conversations to be having during his wedding, this had never even come to mind. It was bad enough that his mother used to use his full name to call him into the house for supper during his childhood. Those taunting, cruel remarks from the trailer park kids after hearing his mother bellow, “Draco Ashley Malfoy, get your ass in here for supper ” still haunted his dreams.

“No, but I think you should have told me ” Ginny said.

Stan, watching from his window, looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Gin, can’t we discuss this later?” Draco asked.

“I suppose,” Ginny said. Then she giggled, and muttered, “Ashley.”

Draco glared at her before turning to Stan. “Get on with it.”

“Okay. Do you, Draco Ashley Malfoy, take this woman to be- whoops ” Stan dropped the card he was reading the vow from. He bent over, searching for it. “Where is it, where is it... Damn It fell in the crack ” Stan stood. “I mostly remember the words... Do you, Draco Ashley Malfoy, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, til death do you part?”

“I do,” said Draco quickly, sliding his grandmother’s wedding band on Ginny’s finger. She slid his grandfather’s ring on his finger, and they grinned at each other.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” said Stan, peering into the car intently. His eyes were glued on Ginny.

“Do you mind?” said Draco.

“Not at all. Have at her,” said Stan.

Draco seemed to growl, and moved to open his door to beat the kid’s face in.

“Wait ” said Ginny, grabbing his arm. “Kiss me first, damn it Then you can beat on the twerp all you want.”

They both looked at each other, and seemed to realize the absurdity of the situation. Draco leaned in, and kissed his wife soundly on the lips. His wife leaned in, and responded eagerly. Their first kiss as a wedded couple deepened, and intensified, and they only remembered their audience as Draco was sliding his hand up Ginny’s skirt and they heard a distinct moan coming from outside the car.

They broke apart abruptly, and looked up to Stan, who was watching with a distinctly pervy look on his face. “Dude, she’s hot,” he said, eyes glued on the amount of thigh now visible.

Draco glared, and said, “Get us our marriage certificate, you inbred halfwit.”

Stan quickly offered a piece of paper and their identification. “That’ll be sixty-five bucks.”

Draco snorted, and said, “Has this been filed yet?”

“Yeah, it’s done automatically,” Stan replied.

Draco peeled out of the Tunnel of Love, Ginny laughing gleefully in the seat beside him, leaving Stan coughing in a cloud of exhaust behind them.

Lucius listened to his son’s car drive away, thinking that the engine was sounding really good these days. He considered whether he should go tell Narcissa right now that her son had just left to marry the Weasley girl, but then remembered that Wheel of Fortune had just come on. He pulled a beer out of the cooler that sat next to his chair, and took a long swig.

Half an hour wouldn’t make any difference.

After Wheel of Fortune had gone off, he flipped through and found an episode of Monster Garage on that he hadn’t seen, so he decided that was more important than telling Narcissa. He finished off his fourth beer, and yawned. As a limousine was turned into a fire truck, Lucius drifted off.

“Lucius!”

Lucius jumped in his chair, spilling the last dregs of the half empty beer can loosely clutched in his hand all over his favorite pair of jeans.

“Damn it, woman, what’s wrong with you?” he snapped.

“Where is my son?” Narcissa demanded, hands on lycra-covered hips.

“He isn’t here?” Lucius was regretting telling Draco that he would break the news to Narcissa. The woman was wickedly cruel and easily angered.

“No, he isn’t,” Narcissa said. “And I told him to be here tonight for dinner with the McNairs!”

“He did mention something...” Lucius began.

“He did?” Narcissa said sharply.

“He might’ve said something about notwantingabigweddingandthathewasgoingtogetmarriedtoday,” Lucius managed to get out on one big rush.

Narcissa laughed. “For a second, I thought you said that my son ran off and married that Weasley girl today.”
“I thought you decided you liked her,” he said.

“Well, that was when I thought I was going to be planning the wedding and getting to dress everybody up! You were going to wear a suit, Lucius! You didn’t even wear a suit to our wedding!”

“Uh,” Lucius said. “I could wear a suit now.”

Narcissa contemplated it.

“But only if you break out your old cheerleading uniform,” Lucius said, realizing the opportunity that had presented itself.

“But-But the McNairs are coming over!” Narcissa protested weakly.

“We could put up the old sign,” Lucius said.

“If the trailer’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’,” Narcissa smirked.

“I’ll just go lock the door,” Lucius said.

“I think my uniform’s in the closet...” Narcissa said.

“Don’t forget the pompoms!”

“I should probably call Molly first... let her know where her daughter’s run off to,” Narcissa said.

“Well, be quick with it,” Lucius said.

Narcissa scurried to the phone, and dialed a number quickly.


**

Molly had just set down her knitting when the phone rang. “I’ll get it!” she called, reaching over and picking up the cordless. “Hello?”

She dropped her knitting needles and gasped. “What do you mean, they eloped?”

Arthur looked up from his Car Trader, intrigued.

“Fine, fine,” Molly said huffily. “Bye.”

“What was that about?” Arthur asked.

“Ginny ran off and got married! I can’t believe she eloped!” Molly exclaimed.

“She did? Dang,” said Arthur blandly.

“I mean, I had the whole wedding all planned out! It was going to be so beautiful! The sun was going to shine, the birds were damn well going to chirp, and the cake was going to be delicious! How could she do that to me?” Molly wailed.

“Um,” said Arthur, silently thanking his only daughter for saving him a bundle. Molly’s no expenses saved method of wedding planning had been worrying him, but now the weight was off his shoulders. But he was wise enough a man to realize that Molly didn’t need his input to intrude upon her disappointment.

“When that girl gets home I’m gonna tan her hide,” Molly said, not meaning a word.

“Uh-huh,” Arthur said vaguely.

“And I’m gonna tell that boy she married a thing or two while I’m at it,” she continued. “He didn’t even tell his momma that they were getting hitched. He told that awful man Lucius– ”

“His father?” Arthur asked. Molly waved off the minor detail.

“And now Ginny’s related to those people,” she said.

“I thought you liked Narcissa,” Arthur asked, confused. He had been nice to Lucius Malfoy of all people and it turned out that Molly didn’t even like them?

“Well, she isn’t the pretentious slut that I thought she would be, but we’re by no means friends,” Molly replied.

“That’s interesting,” Arthur said. Maybe he could get away with getting a few hits in on Lucius. He was still a mite upset over an incident from when they had been young, drunk, and Lucius had said some choice words about his mother. Never mind that Arthur had some things to say about Lucius’s momma as well, and forget about the fistfights and the petty vandalism they had had.

He might be able vent his frustration over his baby girl becoming a Malfoy on the man.

That would kick ass.

Arthur returned his attention back to his Car Trader, and smiled.

**

Ron gaped at his mother.

“She ran off and got married?”

“She did,” Molly said through gritted teeth.

“Why the hell did she bother telling us all about her and Malfoy beforehand then?” Charlie wondered.

“Maybe she wanted Draco to get beat up,” Fred suggested.

“Or maybe she didn’t want to elope. Maybe Draco forced her into it,” George said.

“Yeah!” Fred agreed. “Maybe Draco is really working for the Russians-”

“We like the Russians,” Percy interrupted.

“Okay, those peksy redcoats,” Fred amended.

“We like them, too. They make tea,” Percy said. No reaction. “And Monty Python.”

“Yay for England, then,” George said. “Maybe it was Djibouti.”

A resounding silence met this suggestion.

“It was Canada! Draco is a Canadian spy who kidnaped our baby sister, intent on making her a love slave for his deranged hockey team of evil!”

“Canada isn’t evil!” snapped Bill. “And we’ve known Draco his whole life! When did he ever go to Canada or Djibouti?”

“Yeah, Ron, do you remember Draco going to Djibouti?” George asked.

“You’re the one who brought it up!” Ron yelled, his face turning red.

Molly sighed, and used years worth of mothering to tune out the sound of her boys. She supposed she had to tell her mother about this before the whole town knew...

**

The phone rang in Jo’s living room. She made her way around tables crowded with nicknacks until she reached the receiver.

“Hello?” A pause.

“The just... up and got married?” she said, giving the phone a doubtful look.

“Are you sure they aren’t just out being sinful together?” She snorted. “Since when did anything Lucius Malfoy say have any grain of truth in it?”

She fiddled with a Precious Moments figurine.

“You are still having that get together on the Fourth, right?”
A pause.

“Just because there ain’t gonna be a wedding don’t mean that there can’t be cake,” Jo snapped.

She set down the figurine.

“Fine. Bye.”

**

It was a beautiful Fourth of July. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the minister droning on in front of a varied crowd, uniting teenaged lovers in holy matrimony. The bride wore black and the groom wore a baby blue leisure suit and the bridesmaids were all dressed in gold. Finally, the minister spoke the words Pansy had been awaiting. “If for any reason this couple should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Pansy stood from her seat on the groom’s side of the audience, and spoke loudly. “He can’t marry that girl!”

Everyone gasped and turned to look at her. She stalked dramatically into the middle of the aisle, and flipped her hair back. “She’s a ho! Draco, that baby probably isn’t even yours!”

Draco looked over at Ginny, and took in her low-cut black dress and said, “You’re right, Pansy! How had I never noticed before?”

Ginny seemed to disappear off to the background, becoming completely inconsequential.

“She blinded you,” Pansy said understandingly. “It could have happened to anyone.”

“Oh, Pansy!” Draco exclaimed. “How could I have lived without you?”

He then swept her into his arms, kissed her passionately, and they were riding off into the sunset on a rumbling Harley when the phone rang.

Pansy blearily opened her eyes, and picked up her pink princess phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Lavender,” she said, confused. A moment passed.

“WHAT?”

Pansy dropped the phone, and stared at it as though it had grown teeth and tried to eat her ear. She probably would have fallen right off the waterbed if she’d been sitting up. Surely Lavender Brown hadn’t told her what she had thought that she had been told. Really, it was impossible.

She gingerly picked the phone back up, and said into the mouthpiece, “Are you sure?”

She twined the phone cord around her finger as she listened to Lavender spill what she knew and where she had found it out from.

“I don’t care if you heard it from a Weasley, I’ve got to find out if it’s true,” Pansy said. “Bye.”

She hung up, and sat in a shocked stupor for a few moments. “It couldn’t be,” she told herself. “There’s no way! He was supposed to realize that she was a skank and come running to my arms! Not run off and marry her without giving me the chance to speak my mind when the minister asks if anyone has a reason for them to not be wed!”

She picked up the phone and dialed the Malfoy’s number. She knew how to confirm if this horrible rumor was true or not.

Narcissa answered, sounding breathless. “What?”

Pansy went for the sly method. “Is Draco there?”

“No, he isn’t,” Narcissa replied. She giggled, and said, “I’m on the phone! Stop it!”

“Um,” said Pansy. “When will he be getting home?”

“Haven’t the slightest,” Narcissa said. She giggled again.

Pansy couldn’t stand the subtle method any longer. “Is it true he went off and married that Weasley girl?”

“He did,” Narcissa said. “Bye!”

Pansy could hear what sounded like a cheer as Narcissa hung up.

She carefully placed the phone on its cradle, and stared blankly some more. She knew that she would have to do something about this... The next time she saw Draco Malfoy and that hussy, she would make her feelings known.

Oh yes, she would.

Ginny looked at the hotel apprehensively. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yeah,” Draco said, pulling the car to a stop. “I think so, at least.”

The glowing sign pronounced the place to be named the “Family Inn”.

“You know you had better have booked a suite,” Ginny said.

“Come on,” Draco replied. They headed into the lobby, where Ginny stopped short at the sight of the woman behind the counter.

“Draco, she’s a toad!” Ginny whispered, shocked.

“Wow,” Draco said. “Do you think she’s ever considered a job at the circus? It’s uncanny.”

“Hem, hem,” pronounced the toad woman. “What are you two young ’uns doing in here without your parents?”

Ginny and Draco sputtered.

“She is not my sister,” Draco managed to get out.

“You look alike,” replied the toad woman, “and you’re much too young to be here without parental supervision.”

“We do not look alike!” ranted Draco. “My hair is yellow and her hair is red. I am tall and she is... less tall. I have perfect skin and she has cute little freckles.”

“Yeah!” Ginny backed him up.

“That’s nice, dearies,” said the toad woman. “Now, where are your parents to register you?”

“We are not here with our parents,” replied Ginny. “Our two completely different sets of parents, that is.”

“They ought to be ashamed, letting two children out alone,” said the toad woman. “I’m sure there’s a rule somewhere that says I can’t rent you a room without your parents here.”

“We already called and have a room reserved,” Draco snapped.

“Under what name?” asked the woman.

“Malfoy,” replied Draco.

Ginny giggled, and whispered, “My name’s Ginny Malfoy.”

“It sure is,” Draco replied, and leaned in to kiss her when they heard a loud, “Hem, hem.”

“That is entirely inappropriate behavior with your sister, young man,” said the toad woman stuffily.

“Look, lady,” Draco began.

“My name is Dolores Umbridge,” snapped the woman.

“Look, Dolores,” Draco continued, nonplused. “She’s my wife, not my sister. Our behavior is not inappropriate, we are old enough to get a frickin hotel room without parental supervision, and besides, you have no reason to be the moral police.”

Dolores Umbridge tossed her head, jowls quivering. “Have you spoken to the Lord lately?”

Ginny coughed back the laughter that threatened to escape as her newly acquired husband said icily, “No, I have not, and I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to hear about your conversations either.”

Dolores turned an unattractive shade of red as she said, “I feel it is my duty to guide the misguided youths who come through here, looking for a weekend of sin, drink and debauchery.”

“We aren’t in need of guidance,” Ginny spoke up. “We’re sin-free, honest.”

Dolores gave her a withering glare. “Then why are you at a hotel unchaperoned? I’m not stupid, dearie.”

“We’re married,” Draco snapped. “Any debauchery we plan on having is completely in the clear.”

“Like I haven’t heard that one a thousand times,” Dolores said.

*

“Wow,” Ginny said as she stepped into their honeymoon suite. “Look! A bed!”

The bed had a red velvet bedspread, which matched the walls and furniture in various shades of pink and red. The honeymoon suite apparently weekended as a Valentine’s suite.

“Want to try it out?” Draco asked.

Ginny said, “Sure.”

They commenced making out on the bed, and just as Draco began to undress his new wife, there came a rapping at the hotel room door.

“Ignore it,” Ginny said, tugging off her cute shoes impatiently.

“Already am,” said Draco, who was busy untying her makeshift garter.

The rapping continued.

The couple continued to try to ignore it.

The rapping turned to banging, preventing the couple from doing the same.

“Who is it?” yelled Ginny.

“Maid service,” replied a voice.

“We don’t want any,” Draco snapped, continuing his attempt to remove Ginny’s bra with his teeth. Ginny sighed. He was hopeless at this at the best of times, and now he was trying to gnaw the damn thing off like an animal whose leg was caught in a trap.

“Damn it, why can’t you ever manage to undo a bra? Quit chewing! This is my good one! It came from Victoria’s Secret, you know,” admonished Ginny.

“Can someone open the door?” the voice outside continued.

“No,” replied Ginny. “Don’t come back.”

“I have to deliver this, though!” came the voice, insistent.

“We didn’t order anything!” Draco called, pulling off his t-shirt. “We’re busy! Leave!”

“I can’t come back later! I get off in ten minutes, but that cow I work for won’t let me leave until this is delivered!” wailed the voice on the other side of the door.

Ginny and Draco looked at each other and sighed. Draco stood, leaving Ginny splayed, half-dressed, on the bed. She didn’t bother to move as she admired the view as her husband crossed the room and opened the door. She thought he had the sexiest back she’d ever seen, and the black dragon curling across his shoulder blade just emphasized it.

A young woman whose name tag identified her as “Marietta’ stood on the other side of the door, dressed in a generic blue uniform and holding a handful of pamphlets. She seemed taken aback at the sight of a half-naked Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorframe and snapping, “This had better be good.”

“Mrs. Umbridge insisted that I deliver these informational pamphlets,” Marietta mumbled, obviously embarrassed about interrupting.

“Fine,” Draco said, taking the pamphlets and moving to shut the door.

“Wait!” said Marietta, biting her lip nervously. “I’m supposed to give a stern, yet friendly speech about the dangers of immoral behavior.”

“I feel lectured,” Ginny said, tugging her bra strap back onto one shoulder. “Shoo.”

“Um... you won’t tell Mrs. Umbridge I skipped out?” Marietta asked nervously.

“Not a word,” Draco promised.

“Bye, then!” Marietta fled. Draco slammed the door shut behind her, began to lock it, reconsidered, reopened the door, and placed the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside door handle.

“Don’t know how I forgot that in the first place,” Draco said, then eyed his partially dressed wife, and said, “Oh, yeah.”


**

They were interrupted by another knock on the door.

“Just ignore it,” Ginny said testily. “We put up the sign.”

“I know,” Draco said, standing quickly. “I’m just going to go tell them that...”

He tugged on his worn jeans over boxers decorated with yellow duckies smiling menacingly with a waistband that read, “I rub my duckie,” and hurried to the door as Ginny scowled.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Can’t you read?” snapped Draco as he opened the door, only to be nearly bowled over by a voluptuous redhead wearing a long, dark overcoat and carrying a portable stereo. Before either Draco or Ginny could say a word, she had whipped off her overcoat, revealing a white nurse uniform. She sauntered across the room on her cherry red heels.

“My name,” she said, in a purposely sultry voice, trailing a finger along Draco’s bare chest, “is Candy Stripper.” She pressed a button on the stereo, and Nine Inch Nail’s “Get Down, Make Love” filled the hotel room.

Ginny gaped as Candy began to gyrate. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Candy ignored the girl in the bed as she started shedding her white dress to reveal a sparkly red and white bra, and continued to shimmy as she slithered completely out of the dress. Ginny was pulling out of her state of shock and was trying to find clothing. Draco, who by now had had the presence of mind to shut the door, for once wasn’t even in the mood to admire a disrobing female. He just wanted to continue with consummating his marriage. Then he looked at the stripper again, as she swooped in close, preparing to do a move normally performed on a pole, and gasped, “Cindy Montague!”

Ginny, who had been working her way into clothing while mentally preparing to give the stripper the piece of her mind normally reserved for elderly drivers, looked up abruptly. “You know this whore?”

“I was wondering when you’d recognize me,” said Cindy.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Draco said. Ginny, now clad in undies and Draco’s t-shirt, crossed her arms and barely kept herself from asking the same question with her fist.

“I was hired, of course,” Cindy said airily. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s a perfect time for a stripper,” Ginny snapped. “I was lying there thinking, the only thing better than getting some right now would be to see another woman’s fat ass!”

Cindy gasped, then said coyly, “Draco doesn’t think my ass is fat, do you, sweetie?”

Ginny turned slowly to her husband, and looked at him expectantly.

Draco looked back and forth between the two women, and said, wisely, “I’m not your sweetie!”

Cindy pouted and said, “That’s not what you used to say.”

Ginny said with deceptive calm, “Really.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Cindy. “Me and Draco, we were real close in high school.”

Ginny glanced at Draco, who shrugged helplessly. Ginny ploughed on with the questioning. “So why are you here?”

“I told you already! Vince and Greggy-boy called me up, and told me they had one hell of a gig lined up for me,” Cindy replied.

“Crabbe and Goyle?” Ginny asked. “Those numbskulls hired a stripper? Now?”

“What’s wrong with now?” Cindy asked. “I mean, you obviously aren’t getting into it, but I bet Draco appreciates my moves.”

“Will you stop asking me my opinion?” hissed Draco. “And it really is an inconvenient time. We’re busy.”

“Oh,” Cindy said, looking at how disheveled they were. “Well, if you wanted some... company... all you had to do was ask.”

Draco looked as though he wanted to consider it, then realized that Ginny would never let him have any fun ever again if he mentioned this, so he snapped, “Get out of here!”

Ginny, in the meantime, had been advancing on Cindy. “Look, you tart, I want you out of myhoneymooon suite before I’m forced to possibly break a nail while smashing your face!”

“Oh!” Cindy said, then turned to Draco. “Why the hell didn’t you invite me to your wedding?” She put her hands on her mostly bare hips and glared.

“No one was invited to the wedding,” said Draco.

“We eloped,” Ginny said.

“And we were rather planning on avoiding people we knew for the next few days,” Draco said pointedly.

“Especially mostly naked people,” Ginny added.

“Well,” Draco said.

Cindy looked back and forth between the couple, looking increasingly awkward.

Ginny glared, reached over, and smacked Draco upside the head. “Stop oogling!”

“I wasn’t!”

“I know oogling when I see it, you idiot!”

“You certainly have been enough times,” said Draco sullenly.

Ginny gasped. “Take that back!”

“I didn’t say you ever did anything! You’re hot! You get oogled! I oogled you!” Draco protested.

Ginny smiled. “You oogled me?”

“All the time,” Draco replied. “Took me forever before I saw you without a band of brothers lurking around so I could do more than oogle.”

“I didn’t know you’d paid me any mind before that day you picked me up,” Ginny replied.

“How could I manage to not?” said Draco. Ginny sighed happily, feeling wholly appreciated, then Draco continued talking. “I mean, your family is hardly low key, what with the florescent hair and all. You’re hardly the quietest bunch in town, either. Plus, with what all you wear it’s kind of impossible for anyone interested in women to ignore you.”
“I can’t believe you just said that!” Ginny said. Cindy slowly picked up her discarded dress, pulled on her overcoat, and gathered her stereo. She backed towards the door, saying, “I’ll send you the bill.”

“Send it to Crabbe and Goyle,” Draco called.

“But that’s not...”

Draco and Ginny glared.

“Okay, Crabbe and Goyle get the bill.” With that, Cindy fled.

“You really think all that bad stuff about me?” Ginny asked, dejected. It wasn’t too late for an annulment, she supposed, but then her baby wouldn’t have a daddy, due to her brothers murdering him...

“I used to,” Draco said honestly, before quickly amending himself. “Not now! Not anymore!”

Ginny sat down on the slightly rumpled bed, and clutched at the hem of her shirt. “You’re just saying that.”

“No! I’m not!” Draco said. He couldn’t quite believe that he was sacrificing his pride so quickly. Malfoys traditionally never begged or pleaded, but he was already prepared to do both. “I was just saying what I said earlier that made you upset. That’s not how I think of you anymore- you’re completely separate from your idiotic brothers in my mind.”

Ginny couldn’t hold back a grin. “And the way I dress?”

“Nothing wrong with what I see,” Draco replied immediately. “Though I might need closer inspection...”

“Why, Mr. Malfoy, are you propositioning me?” Ginny said coyly, batting her eyelashes.

“I believe I might be, Mrs. Malfoy,” replied Draco, and they commenced to make good use of their honeymoon suite.

**

“If you want my body, and you think I’m sexy, come on sugar let me know!” warbled Draco from the shower the next morning. Ginny was settled in the middle of the bed, eating a bar of chocolate Draco had fetched her from the vending machine down the hall, and was staring in a slightly aghast manner at the bathroom door.

“Draco?” she said hesitantly.

“If you really need me just reach out and touch me, come on honey tell me so!” Draco’s voice hit alarming notes, amplified by the shower stall. Ginny winced. She’d never known that he was a shower singer. Hell, she hadn’t known that he sang at all- well, not that what he was currently doing could be classified as singing, as such.

Draco was now humming loudly, and abruptly switched songs. “Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees!”

Ginny sighed, and crawled out of bed. She stood by the bathroom door, and yelled, “Draco!”

He stopped monkeying around long enough to yell, “What?”

“Are you by any chance killing cats in there?” Ginny asked.

“No,” said Draco, sounding confused.

“Any illicit actions with cattle?”

“What? No!”

“Then what is that horrible sound?” Ginny snapped.

“You don’t like my singing?” The hurt was evident in his voice.

“You know I love you,” Ginny began, “but you can’t sing. At all. In the least.”

“I can so!” protested Draco. A few moments later, the water shut off. “No one’s ever complained about my voice before, you know.”

Ginny snorted. “Not to your face, anyway.”

“I sing very well,” Draco announced, opening the bathroom door with a puff of steam. His hair was still damp, and he was clad only in his boxers. “I don’t care what you say.”

“Fine then,” Ginny said, fighting the urge to giggle. Maybe she could record him for back-up blackmail material. She then felt a familiar wave of nausea rising, and she shoved past her husband into the bathroom.

“Um, everything alright in there?” Draco asked, peering cautiously around the doorframe.

Ginny sat back on her heels, wiping at her mouth. “No, it isn’t. I still can’t believe you went and knocked me up. This sucks.”

“Um, well,” Draco said, knowing better than to bring up her role in it all.

She rinsed her mouth out, and continued. “I mean, can you imagine us with a baby?”

“It’s going to be an experience,” Draco said. “But babies are supposed to be cute, right? I mean, that’s why people keep having them, right?”
“Well, they’re cute unless they’re crying, or need changed, or are spitting up. When they’re asleep, mostly, in my experience,” Ginny said.

“Maybe they’re better when their actually yours,” said Draco optimistically. “But we still have a while to get used to it all.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “Plus, we get to pick out a name!”

“Our boy needs a good name,” Draco agreed.

“Boy?” Ginny asked.

“Our firstborn will be a boy, of course,” Draco said confidently.

“It’s going to be a pretty little girl that we get to dress up in frilly dresses with lots of ribbons,” Ginny said.

“What do you want to bet?”

“I’m not betting on the sex of our baby with you,” Ginny said tartly.

Draco raised his eyebrow.

“Okay, I name her when she turns out to be a girl,” Ginny said quickly.

“Fine, I’ll name our son,” Draco replied. They couldn’t help but to laugh together, and Draco said, “Come on. I know you wanted to play mini-golf today.”

“Yay!” Ginny cheered, and crossed the room to get dressed. “Want to TP that toad woman’s car on our way out?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Draco said with a grin.

“Then, sundaes?”

“Of course,” replied Draco. “What’s a honeymoon without hot fudge?”

“So,” Molly Weasley said. “What happened to the July wedding?”

Ginny grimaced and said, “We decided that it would have been a disaster, and that we really just wanted a small wedding.”

“Small,” repeated her mother.

“Yeah,” Ginny said boldly.

“How small was it? Were Lucius and Narcissa invited? Are you ashamed of us?” The questions came rapid-fire from Molly.

“It was just us, Mom. We eloped, meaning that there was no family there. At all,” Ginny managed to get out. She decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and chose not to answer the question about shame. She already missed being on her honeymoon, and they’d only been home for three hours. On her honeymoon, there had been chocolate and sweet loving and isolation from everyone but Draco. Okay, there had been a stripper and a zealous hotel matron and that creepy guy who hung out at the ice machine, but compared to her family they were nothing.

She poked at the sandwich in front of her. Right now, the only people home were her mother and Hermione Granger, who was involved in an on again, off again relationship with Ron. Her brothers were due to arrive within the hour, though, so Ginny knew that this was only the first part of her punishment for having the gall to elope to avoid a Fourth of July wedding that she hadn’t even wanted in the first place.

“So you really got married?” Hermione asked from across the table.

“Yeah,” Ginny replied.

“When are you moving out then?” Hermione asked. She idly played with a strand of teased, permed brown hair. “I heard on Dr. Phil that one of the most important steps to establishing a good marital base and positive environment for your children is to create a healthy, happy home.”

Ginny fought the urge to stick her spoon up the girl’s nose. “Soon, probably.”

“Where is Draco?” Hermione asked.

“He had to talk to his aunt,” Ginny replied.

“Oh, how is Andy doing?” Molly asked. “I haven’t seen her since she moved to the west coast.”

“I don’t know,” Ginny replied. “He went to see his Aunt Bella.”

Silence fell upon the table like ravening wolves.

Finally, Molly spoke. “I didn’t know she was out of prison.”

“Yeah, she got paroled,” Ginny said in the most upbeat manner she could muster. The next thing she had to say was going to cause her mother to implode, she feared, so she spat it out quickly, before she lost the nerve. “We’re kinda moving in with her.”

Molly sputtered for a moment, and then took a deep breath. Ginny had just braced herself for a screamed tirade a year long when a “Yoohoo ” echoed through the house.

“Mom, you in here?” Charlie’s voice called as he entered the room. “Oh, hey Gin. Have fun?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“C’mon in, baby,” Charlie said over his shoulder. A petite girl with wildly pink hair appeared around the doorway, and said, “Hello ”

“Hi Charlie ” chirped Ginny happily. She loved her brother dearly at that moment, for saving her from a night-long lecture about not associating herself with disreputable sorts.

“Hey, Gin, you back already?” Charlie said easily.

“Unfortunately,” Ginny replied honestly, ignoring the indignant snort that came from both her mother and Hermione.

“And who is this with you?” Molly asked, looking at the girl who was standing way too close to her second son.

“This is Tonks,” Charlie said.

“Hi ” she said brightly, grinning and waving.

“Nymphadora?” Molly asked. The girl in question flinched. “Andy Tonks’s girl?” Molly continued, glancing over at Ginny. “How is your mother doing, dear?”

“She’s fine,” replied Tonks. “A bit upset over Aunt Bella’s early release from the pen.”

“I heard about that,” Molly said. “Just a few minutes ago, in fact.”

“So, are you and Charlie dating?” Ginny interceded quickly, wanting nothing more than to direct the conversation back away from the topic of Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Yeah,” replied Charlie.

“And when did this happen?” Molly asked.

“We met while I was at work,” Tonks said, “And things just progressed from there. We’ve only been officially together for a few weeks.”

“I see,” Molly said.

Charlie lead Tonks to the table, and they sat down. The other Weasley brothers began to file in, followed by their father, all joshing around. Ginny greeted them all.

“You look really familiar,” George said to Tonks.

“I don’t remember meeting you before,” she replied.

“Really,” Fred said. “People always remember meeting us.”

“I wonder why,” Tonks managed with a grin.

“So,” Ginny said, only to be interrupted by Percy saying, “So who is this, Charlie?”

“My new girl,” Charlie replied, draping an arm around the girl in question and grinning.

“I’m Tonks,” she clarified.

“So, is it serious?” Bill asked. Ginny looked around incredulously. Why wasn’t anyone interested in asking her questions? She was the one in the limelight, damn it She was about three seconds from accidently mentioning her soon-to-be living situation when her thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey, I recognize you ” said Fred loudly to Tonks. “You work at Hooters ”

“What?” Molly asked. “Where?”

“I’m a waitress,” Tonks said. “It’s no big deal.”

Ginny watched her mother look appalled, then questioning. “You said you met Charlie when you were at work?”

“Yeah,” Tonks said brightly. “I accidently dropped a plate of hot wings on his lap.”

“What, he ask you out after you cleaned up the mess?” Ginny asked. Judging from the redness of both Charlie and Tonks’s cheeks, that had been the order of events. The twins snorted. Ginny’s ears perked up as she heard a familiar engine outside.

“Draco’s here ” she announced happily.

She pretended not to feel disappointment at the disappointed grumblings of her brothers.

A few minutes later, Draco felt every eye in the room turn to him as he entered. He quickly slid into the seat Ginny had thankfully managed to secure next to her, and mumbled a greeting. He hated how being near the Weasley clan made all the patented Malfoy self confidence and charm fly right out the window. He just prayed that the inevitable blond jokes he knew he would endure wouldn’t surface during this first meal with him as a legal member of the family.

Immediately, Fred, ever the comedian, said, “Why did the blond throw the butter out the window?”

Draco had to remind himself that killing a brother-in-law wasn’t the best way to start a marriage. Though in the comics Gambit had, and he’d ended up with Rogue... No, best not to even entertain the thought.

Ginny must have noticed the way his grip on the knife was tightening and sliding more into a stabbing position than the slicing position appropriate for the pork chops, because she interrupted Fred quickly. “Anything interesting happen lately?”

Blank stares met her question.

“Are you okay, Gin?” Ron asked, concerned.

“Yes ” she snapped. She pretended that she didn’t see the looks exchanged around the table.

“If you’re tired we can go,” Draco said quietly.

“Go?” said Molly, who was a master eavesdropper. “You aren’t staying here?”

“I thought you were going to talk about things,” Draco said, giving Ginny a sideways glance.

“I didn’t get around to everything,” Ginny replied defensively.

“We’re going to be staying at my house until we get moved in with Aunt Bella,“ Draco bravely announced to his mother-in-law.

“Why? Is there something wrong with staying in my house?” Molly asked.

“Of course not, Mom,” Ginny said. “There are just less people living there, so it makes more sense.”

“So now it’s too crowded here?” Ron asked. “You just think you’re better than us, don’t you?”

“No, but I would like to be able to get into the bathroom in a decent amount of time, and that’s possible at Draco’s,” Ginny replied.

“Really, my mother insisted,” Draco intervened. “She wants to get to know Ginny.”

“That’s awfully nice of her,” Molly said suspiciously.

“Yes, it was,” Ginny said. “And I think we should head out. Let me grab some things.”

“Okay,” Draco said, shoveling the last few bites of his dinner into his mouth quickly. “I’ll be waiting.”

As soon as Ginny disappeared down the hall, Draco remembered that he was in the middle of hostile territory.

“So,” said Molly sharply. “Decided to elope?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Draco replied honestly. Lately, a lot of things had seemed like a good idea at the time. Really, if he got jumped again, he thought that trying to build a time machine to prevent himself from ever thinking that Ginny Weasley was hot would be a good idea.

“What if we were looking forward to a big wedding?” Hermione asked. Draco managed to not tell her to shove it. Hermione was one of the kinds of people he hated most in the world. She was a Yankee. And not one of the Yankees that had the decency to stay up north where they belonged, either. She was one that came down to his part of the world, and then decided to adopt their mannerisms and way of talking until it all became like one big mockery of who his ancestors had fought to be.

“Tough,” was all that he said.

“That’s not a very good attitude to have,” Hermione snapped back.

Draco remained silent. He couldn’t alienate his in-laws within five minutes of being alone with them, after all, even though Hermione wasn’t really an in-law. He doubted Ginny would see it that way, and he for one wanted to stay on his wife’s good side as long as possible.

“You know,” Hermione said to the vaguely familiar pink haired girl sitting next to the brother known as Charlie, “Draco and Ginny are moving in with Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“Why would you do that?” asked the girl.

“Because she’s family and offering cheap rent,” Draco replied. “Besides, I like her.” He squinted at her. “Aren’t you my cousin?”

“Oh Now I know where I know you from You’re Aunt Narcissa’s boy- I remember pushing you off the boat that one time,” replied Tonks.

“Yeah, I remember that too,” Draco replied sullenly. “But I also remember you being gullible enough to think that worms really were natural spaghetti.”

Charlie chuckled. “You really ate worms?”

Tonks flushed. “Just that once.”

Tonks and Draco grinned at each other. Draco was relieved that he finally had an ally within the Weasley network.

“I think Hermione was trying to start trouble knowing we’re from feuding parts of our family,” Tonks said.

“I was not And I’m sitting right here ” Hermione protested.

“She must have been,” Draco replied. He could see the twins grinning as Hermione sputtered indignantly.

“But why would you want to live with someone who’s been in jail?” Tonks asked.

Draco glared.

“Oh, I forgot,” she said. “Sorry.”

Just then, Ginny flounced back into the room with a bag thrown over her shoulder. “I’m ready ” she said, pecking her parents on the cheek.

“Alright,” Draco said, standing up and thanking Molly for the meal.

They left the Weasley house, and a few minutes later arrived at the Malfoy trailer.

“Mom We’re here ” Draco yelled as they walked in the door. He turned to Ginny and said, “Dad’s out with his friends for the evening.”

“Hello dear ” said Narcissa Malfoy as she hurried into the room on heeled slippers, holding a cigarette between two red daggered fingers. She set an empty plastic martini glass on the table as she settled on the couch. “Ginny, welcome.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy,” Ginny said nervously.

“Oh, call me Narcissa We’re family, after all,” Narcissa said sweetly. “Sit, sit ”

Ginny glanced over at Draco, who shrugged. He’d never seen his mother this sickeningly sweet before either.

“So,” Narcissa said as they settled on the couch. “You’re part of the family now.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said in a hopefully upbeat tone.

“Married to my little boy,” Narcissa continued, ruffling Draco’s hair. He pulled away, blushing as
Ginny giggled. “And with a little one of your own on the way.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said again, her hand unconsciously resting on her lower stomach

“And you’re moving out,” Narcissa said, sounding as though she wanted to burst into tears

“Mom, it’s okay,” Draco said awkwardly, glancing briefly at Ginny. “Mom, really.”

“But you’re my baby ” Narcissa said, allowing the tears to set loose.

Draco awkwardly wrapped an arm around his mother and said, weakly, “There, there,” while patting her back gingerly.

Narcissa sniffled into her son’s t-shirt. “My baby’s grown up ’

“Mom. C’mon, this is... Mom ” Draco said, attempting to pull away from Narcissa’s death grip on him.

“Aww,” Ginny said.

“You’re leaving me all alone here ” Narcissa wailed.

“Mom, it’s not like you’re alone, you have Dad,” Draco said. “And it’s not like I was here all that much before...”

“It’s different now ” Narcissa protested.

“Narcissa, it’s not like we’re going to be far away,” Ginny offered.

“Shut it, you brazen hussy ” snapped Narcissa. “I’m talking to my boy.”

Ginny gasped.

Draco sighed. “Mom-”

“Don’t you “Mom” me ” snapped Narcissa.

“I think that I need to show Ginny to our room,” Draco said, standing. “I think she’s tired.”

“Fine, fine, ignore your mother,” Narcissa replied, waving a hand around.

“Mom, I didn’t mean to,” Draco began.

“Go ” snapped Narcissa.

“Come on,” Ginny whispered. With one last glance at his mother, Draco ushered Ginny towards his room.
“And I thought it would be more pleasant here,” he muttered.

“Silly goose,” Ginny whispered cheerfully. “Of course they’re all going to make our lives hell. It’s their job.”

“I know something that would make my life less hellish,” Draco said, shutting the door.

“Really, because I had something in mind as well,” Ginny replied, shoving the old clothes off the bed and into the floor. “C’mere, hubby.”


***

The next morning, Ginny was practically bouncing in anticipation as they drove to Bellatrix Lestrange’s house.

“Your aunt isn’t going to hate me like your mother does, is she?” Ginny asked nervously.

“Mom doesn’t hate you. At least not when she’s sober,” Draco said consolingly. “If she’d been up for breakfast she would have been perfectly civil to you.”

“Uh-huh,” Ginny replied.

“Here we are,” Draco said. “And there’s Aunt Bella, outside waiting on us.”

He parked on the driveway, and climbed out. Ginny did the same, smiling at Bellatrix prettily as Draco introduced them. Bellatrix had limp black hair and a thin face, with crudely rendered tattoos decorating various exposed parts. Ginny’s eyes had focused on the skull and snake on one arm for several seconds before remembering that staring was rude, and instead inspected her new living quarters instead.

“Oh, this house is gorgeous,” Ginny said, staring at the house. It was split level, with a detached garage and lots of yard.

‘Are you using the garage?” Draco asked.

“No,” replied Bellatrix. “I don’t have a car. Damn police auction...”

“Awesome,” Draco said. “I’ll be able to work on mine even in the rain.”

“When Reindeer gets out, though, he might want to use the garage himself,” she added.

“Reindeer?” Ginny asked.

“My husband. Lord only knows when he’ll get out, though I expect it shouldn’t be all that far in the future,” Bellatrix clarified.

“I see,” Ginny said. She really didn’t want to know where the nickname came from, so she changed the subject. “So, which window is ours?” she asked, looking at the upper floor’s windows and planning on the view she liked best.

“Come on in. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying,” Bellatrix said, leading them up to the house.

They followed her inside, and then down the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Ginny asked.

“Your room,” replied Bellatrix. “It’s right around the corner here.”

“In the basement?” Ginny asked.

“Hey, a bar ” Draco exclaimed. “This room is great ”

“Basement,” Ginny repeated. “I thought we would get our own room...”

“This is a room,” Bellatrix snapped. “A good one too.”

“See, we have our own entrance,” Draco said, pointing to the sliding glass door that dominated one wall.

“And the windows are... very high in the air,” Ginny said, looking at the other side of the room. “And look Our very own heat ducts, right out there in the open on the ceiling ”

Bellatrix’s hand twitched. “Demanding little thing you married, isn’t she?”

Draco remained silent, not willing to alienate either the aunt who was housing them for cheap or the wife whose bed he was planning on sleeping in. Ginny glared at Bellatrix, and was mere seconds from sharing her thoughts on her hostess when Draco spoke up. “Can Ginny see the rest of the house?”

“Fine,” his aunt replied shortly.

Ten minutes later, Ginny had been lead on a full tour of the house and back yard, and she became a mite more enthused about the idea of living in a basement as it dawned on her that, with the exception of Bellatrix Lestrange, she would have the run of a house. Her very own house, she thought, nevermind the details of ownership. This was going to rock.

Chapter Twenty: Tramp

**

"I heard that you were back in town," said Pansy Parkinson. She paused dramatically, resting one hand on the denim on one barely clad hip and pouted. She stood like that for a few long moments, then shook her head. "Too whiny," she decided.

She tossed her hair at the mirror again.

"So, have fun?" she said, this time lowering her eyes threateningly. Slightly too threateningly. She adjusted her facial expression slightly, and was pleased with the result.

“What are you doing?”

Pansy jumped as in the mirror she saw Draco standing behind her. “What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped.

“Visiting,” he replied. “Why were you pretending to be one of Charlie’s Angels?”

“I wasn’t!” snapped Pansy.

“Your hands were in fake-gun positioning and you were about to take out the mirror with an imaginary bullet,” Draco said.

"So why is the newlywed in my bedroom?" replied Pansy in her best, bitchiest voice, pointing her imaginary gun at him. "Wifey not satisfy you like I did?"

Draco swatted her hands away. “Do you really want me to answer that? You won’t like the answer.”

“I doubt that,” replied Pansy. “But I guess you have to lie to yourself to sleep at night.”

Draco knew from experience that if he didn’t change the subject now Pansy would have him sharing every single intimate detail of his sex life. “So you heard about the wedding.”

“Everyone’s heard about your wedding, dumbass,” said Pansy. “I hear a girl from Hufflepuff High was so distraught she jumped out of a window. It was a first-floor window so she was okay, but still.”

“Really?” said Draco. “Well, I am hot.”

Pansy snorted. “Not over you, sweetie. She was harboring a flame for Ginny.”

“Oh,” said Draco. He wondered what the girl’s name was and what she looked like. Maybe Ginny would be open to experimentation.

“So why are you here again?” Pansy asked.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t mad,” said Draco.

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Do I look like a girl who’s mad?” Pansy said.

“Well, yeah,” Draco replied. “It looked like you were planning to take someone out when I came in here. And you’re turning sort of red in the face, like you always do when you’re mad.”

Pansy turned and inspected her pallor in the mirror, but angrily found that Draco was right. “Well, of course I’m mad. You went and married that ho-biscuit.”

“I don’t think she’s a ho-biscuit,” Draco said. His friends had all said remarkably similar things about Ginny, but he thought she was great. And she wasn’t a slut, either. They hadn’t gone all the way until the third date, which was a very respectable amount of time. Of course, he counted their first encounter as a date, since she’d ridden around with him. And definitely it had been a date when they’d made out in the Dairy Queen parking lot, when they’d bumped into each other. And on the third date he’d bought her dinner and everything.

“Of course you don’t think she’s a tramp,” Pansy said. “She’s got you in her filthy, chipped polished talons. But as an impartial outsider I have to inform you that she is a slut.”

“You’re not impartial. You’re my ex-girlfriend. That is the opposite of impartial,” Draco said. “Besides, you’re hardly lily-pure yourself.”

“Not after dating you, no,” Pansy said. “But I know you didn’t get to do the honors for her.”

“Well, no,” Draco said. “But that doesn’t mean she’s a tramp.”

“Of course not,” Pansy said placatingly.

“So all this means you are mad,” Draco said.

“A bit,” Pansy said. She paused. “Okay, a lot.”

“But why?” said Draco. “I know that no one else likes Ginny, but I do.”

“Because I always thought I’d be the one to marry you, you doofus!” snapped Pansy. She then froze. She hadn’t meant to tell him that.

Draco looked at her incredulously. “Did you completely forget how wrong we are for each other?”

“We weren’t that bad!” Pansy replied.

“How about the time you got so mad at me you left me in the middle of the Abbott’s cornfield in nothing but my boxers and a pair of tube socks?”

“You were being an ass.”

“And the time I almost got you arrested?”

“Again, you were being an ass.”

“And the time I gave your panties to Vince Crabbe in exchange for a video game?”

“Wow, I’d really forgotten how much of an ass you were,” Pansy said.

“So really, it’s good that I’m married to Ginny. She doesn’t think I’m an ass, for one,” Draco said.

“Well, not yet,” Pansy said.

“What does that mean?” Draco replied.

“Nothing,” Pansy said quickly. Too quickly.

Draco eyed her suspiciously, but knew from past experience that he wouldn’t be able to get her to talk. He could only wait and see what she was going to do to him.

However long it took her undoubtedly evil plan to come to fruition.

***

Draco arrived to his first day on the job fifteen minutes late.

He had woken up early enough, but the presence of a disheveled, more than willing Ginny in his bed had distracted him out of a good portion of his seemingly plentiful time. He had jerked on some pants and raced upstairs, only to find that the bathroom was already occupied. He could hear the whir of a hair dryer through the door.

“Aunt Trixie,” he said, banging on the door. “I need the shower!”

“I’ll just be a minute,” Bellatrix replied.

“You can fix your hair in our bathroom! You know our shower’s busted,” Draco said impatiently. “I have to go to work.”

“And you can wait for me to get done with my bathroom,” replied Bellatrix.

Draco sighed, and returned downstairs. He could just get dressed and go to work as-is, but he was paranoid that Arthur would be able to tell his morning activities, and he was definitely not prepared for that. He knew his father-in-law was aware that Draco was banging his daughter, but he wasn’t sure how far he could push things before he found himself getting beat again. Those Weasleys were a violent group, after all. His bruises were finally gone and he frankly did not want to go through that again. His pride couldn’t handle another Weasley-sponsored beating. It was undignified.

Plus, his father would laugh at him. That was embarrassing. And he would tell all his friends around the trailer park in retaliation for Draco marrying one of the Weasleys, something he knew deep down his father hated, and the fallout from that would be even worse than having everyone mock him because he had traded in Pansy for a pretty redhead.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” mumbled Ginny, who was naked as a jaybird and tangled in the pale pink sheets she had put on their bed. He hadn’t complained when he had first seen them (mostly due to the fact that he had also been naked as a jaybird and happy as a clam) but now he cringed as he realized his bed was covered in pink. That would change, and soon.

 Draco scowled at his wife. “Because I haven’t been able to take a shower because Bellatrix is in the only damn bathroom with a working shower and I’m going to be late.”

Ginny giggled, the pink sheet sliding down dangerously low as she half-sat up. “You sound like a girl.”

“I do not!” said Draco, shocked and appalled that she would suggest such a thing.

“You’re just upset because you can’t fix your hair properly,” Ginny said.

Draco glared at his wife. The pink sheet looked damn cute on her. “Shouldn’t you get dressed too? Aren’t you doing anything today?” he said.

“I’m going to go to Mom’s and get the rest of my clothes,” she said.

Draco glanced at the trash bags spilling with clothes that sat along one wall. “I don’t remember you wearing that many clothes.”

Ginny gasped. “You did think I dressed trampy!”

“What? No! I’m just saying that’s a lot of clothes,” Draco said. “And you seem to wear not that many. But in the non-Eskimo-layered kind of way, not the should-be-on-a-street-corner kind of way.”

“Draco!” came Bellatrix’s shrill yell. “Bathroom’s free!”

Ginny sighed. “Fine, you don’t think I dress too scantily. Go, bathe.”

Draco dashed upstairs, showered and tried to fix his hair but ended up with it looking like a mess. Ginny was dressed and sitting at the table sipping a cup of water when he got out, and he kissed her and left.

He got out to his car, started her up and drove to work as quickly as he could manage, still arriving fifteen minutes late.

“You’re late,” said Arthur as he walked in the door to the office of the garage.

Draco knew that the Malfoy thing to do would be to deflect the blame onto someone else, but also knew that blaming his lateness on his boss’s daughter’s morning loving was the wrong thing to do. Traffic wasn’t a good excuse, not enough cars were out this early, and this was a garage so claiming car troubles wouldn’t work. He couldn’t make Bellatrix seem any worse than Arthur already thought she was....

Arthur sighed as the silence stretched out, and said, “Fine, we won’t hold it against you since it’s your first day. Come on.”

He followed Arthur into the main part of the garage to meet his co-workers. As soon as he saw them he regretted taking the job. He wondered if it was too late to flee.

“I’m sure you know Harry Potter” Arthur said. “And this is Remus Lupin, Ernie Macmillian, Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan.”

All were glaring at Draco. He chose to sneer at them in return.

 

“So why did you have to hire him again?” said Harry. “Because he’s a filthy Slytherin and they aren’t welcome around here.”

“Yeah,” said Seamus, whacking a wrench against his palm.

Ernie and Neville nodded in agreement, while Remus sighed. “I’m sure he’s qualified for the job.”

Draco thought that he should quit. Dealing with simple-minded idiots like this everyday would surely drive him to murder, and he didn’t think that prison would be his thing. After all, look at how Bellatrix acted after spending a chunk of time in the pen. For all accounts, she’d been much prettier beforehand. And he was, when it came down to it, really just too good-looking to go to jail. So that meant he should quit.

But then that damned Potter and Finnigan would think they chased him off, and he couldn’t stand that embarrassment. It seemed that half his life was being defined by embarrassment lately. So he sucked it up and stood there, silently waiting for Arthur to continue.

The silence stretched on. Arthur seemed to be waiting on something, but Draco stood patiently.

“So why were you late?” asked Harry.

Draco glanced at Arthur discreetly. “None of your business.”

“Somebody spent their morning canoodling,” muttered Ernie.

“I don’t canoodle,” said Draco.

At the same time, Arthur glared and said, “No talk concerning my daughter and canoodling.”

No one seemed willing to go against Arthur’s proclamation so Draco was given the rest of the tour of the garage, which didn’t take long, and then was left to work on a car with Harry and Neville while Arthur returned to the office.

Neither one seemed too happy with him, and while he knew it was because of Ginny he really wasn’t sure why they had such a grudge against him. He did decide, though, that it was prudent that he not get into a fight on his first day, so he chose not to bring up the topic.

Harry was the first one to break the ice. He slicked his hand through his greased-down hair (which prominently displayed his favorite feature, his scar) and said, “I don’t like you.”

Draco looked up, hoping that Harry had spoken to Neville but found Harry was glaring directly at him. He waited, knowing that in movies and bars people would continue on to list the unlikable traits that spurned the dislike, but Harry simply glared at him with all the self-churned righteousness of a televangelist.

“So? You’ve never liked me,” Draco replied. “Remember the time after you saw Lord of the Rings and you thought Ringwraiths were going to swoop down and get you because you had that scar and that made you ‘special’, and I heard about it and got my friends to dress in dark cloaks and scared you so badly you fell off your bike and broke your arm?”

Neville suddenly started rooting around under the hood of the car and Draco could see his shoulders shaking in a suspiciously laughter-like jiggle.

“But now I don’t like you for a more personal reason,” snapped Harry. “Ginny was going to be mine.”

“But I thought you were dating the Patil twins,” Draco said.

“That is beside the point,” Harry said. “The point was, I was going to have fun for a few years, and then Ginny was going to be there for me. She wasn’t going to go ruin herself with the likes of you.”

Draco was vaguely relieved to hear that Ginny apparently hadn’t ever done anything with Harry. He was also suddenly certain that Harry wasn’t close to Ginny at all, because then he would have known his plan wouldn’t have worked.

Apparently, Seamus felt the same, judging from the loud snort that came from across the garage, where the other three were putting an exhaust system on a sedan.

Draco realized that what Harry was saying about Ginny were what he would have considered fighting words, but now it seemed a bit ridiculous. Ginny was his, after all, and that wasn’t likely to change. And Harry definitely hadn’t woken up to a hot redhead this morning. He just grinned cheekily at the black haired boy and started to change the oil in the car they were working on.

Harry glared but didn’t offer any more of his opinions on Draco’s romantic situation.

“You got a gig tonight?” Neville called to Remus a little while later.

“Nope, tomorrow,” replied Remus.

Draco hadn’t known that mild-mannered Remus Lupin was in a band.

“What are you wearing this time?” asked Ernie.

“I got this red sparkly number,” replied Remus.

“Red sparkly?” Draco repeated confusedly before remembering he was trying to keep a low profile.

“It matches the heels. They’re very Wizard of Oz,” said Remus.

Draco blinked then asked, “Then shouldn’t you wear a blue dress and carry a basket?”

Remus scowled. “It’s a concert, not a costume party.”

“Oh. You’re a serious transvestite, then,” Draco said. “I see.”

The other guys were laughing, and Remus turned slightly red. “It’s just a shtick. It’s edgy, being a transvestite. And dresses flatter my body type.”

“So you don’t want real boobs,” Draco said. He knew that Remus was a creepy looking guy, but the creepiness was apparently not just skin deep. He wondered briefly why a man who moonlighted as a transvestite had such an ugly moustache, but didn’t want to ask. Maybe it was to keep him from being hit on by being the ugliest woman there. Or maybe it had some obscure, transvestite culture meaning that Draco really didn’t want to know.

“Not on my chest, no,” replied Remus.

Draco was beginning to think that he had married only the normal Gryffindor.

“You should go see the band. They’re called the Marauders, and they’re really good,” said Neville.

“That’s okay,” said Draco.

Seamus snickered. “He just got married. He doesn’t want to go see a band of transvestites. He wants to take advantage of the fact she isn’t fat yet.”

“Ginny’s not going to get fat,” said Harry.

Draco stared. “Of course she is.”

“You want your wife,” Draco noticed Harry stuttered a bit over the word, “to get fat?”

“Well, I didn’t want her to but she will anyway,” Draco said.

Harry still looked confused.

“Because she’s pregnant,” offered Draco. “I thought everyone knew that.” The others nodded that they, in fact, had known.

“Ginny Weasley?” said Harry. “But...”

“She’s a Malfoy now,” said Draco. “And I really don’t know why you’re so hung up on this. It really doesn’t concern you.”

“That’s right, clear the air so that it’ll be bearable having you here,” said Seamus.

Draco scowled at him.

“Am I the only one who sees how insane this marriage is? Am I the only one who remembers that Slytherins are evil and that the Malfoys are no good?” said Harry.

Harry’s rant was greeted with silence. Remus looked as though he wanted to say something, but he shut his mouth and remained silent. From somewhere in the background, the radio that had been left playing warbled, “I may be a real bad boy but baby I’m a real good man.”

“Remember what his father did to Ginny?” Harry said, pleadingly.

Draco sighed. He’d known that this would come up eventually, but so far had been lucky. When he had been twelve, he and his father had bumped into the Weasley clan in the Tractor Supply Co. Words had been exchanged and his father and Arthur had come to blows, knocking over a display of belts, the buckle on one of which had given his father a black eye. Right before the fight broke out, though, his father had accidently dropped a copy of Grand Theft Auto in little Ginny’s bag. From all accounts, she had become addicted to the game and had taken her neighbor’s Cobra for a joyride before anyone had discovered it. Harry Potter had been with her, by all accounts, and had forced the Cobra off the road before a cop noticed the erratic swerving, saving Ginny from a stint in Juvie.

“It was just a video game,” Draco said. “Not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big a deal? She could have been killed!”

“But she wasn’t,” Draco pointed out.

“But she could have been,” Harry insisted. Draco wondered if this was what it was going to be like having a child. No, any child of his wouldn’t be this stupidly bullheaded. Malfoys produced good-looking children destined to be the cool kid in class, not whiny smelly brats who would be mocked and ridiculed..

He remembered suddenly that Ginny’s brother had been one of the smelly kids he’d mocked, and could only hope that his superior Malfoy genes won over the smelly Weasley ones.

He really should be saying something to knock Harry off his high horse, he realized. “Why the hell are you going on about this?”

“Because Ginny deserved better than you,” Harry replied.

Draco raised his eyebrow and said, “I happen to think I’m a good catch.”

He decided that the snorts from the various Gryffindors were fueled by jealousy. People who had attended Gryffindor High always were jealous of Slytherins, whose school was nicer and had better sports teams and had rich benefactors that bought the aforementioned teams nice, new uniforms.

“You really think Draco ruined Ginny?” Ernie asked Harry suddenly.

Harry looked at Ernie like he was dumb. “Of course he did. Ginny was a sweet girl before he got to her.”

Draco, Neville, Remus and Seamus snorted, and Ernie said, “Man, where have you been?”

“I thought I was supposed to be the bumbling idiot,” muttered Neville.

“Ginny’s a total tramp,” said Seamus.

“Hey,” said Draco.

“She is?” Harry asked.

“No,” said Draco shortly. No one chose to contradict him, and the rest of Draco’s day was without incident. Other than when Neville backed a car into him, that was, but as he wasn’t actually injured and he got to cuss up a blue storm at Neville, he wrote it off as one of the many dangers of working with idiots.

***

That night, they all sat around the circular kitchen table in green vinyl chairs eating spaghetti. Draco sat on Ginny’s left, and Bellatrix was directly across from her.

“How was work?” Ginny asked.

“Did you know Harry Potter thought you were a sweet, innocent girl that I corrupted?” Draco replied.

“Really,” said Ginny. “Well, that explains why he offered me a sugar cube when I asked him for sugar that one day in the stables.”

Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, he’s kinda cute!” Ginny said. “Clueless, but cute.”

“I hope this was before us,” said Draco.

Ginny thought. “Probably.” She paused. “Most likely, anyway. And anyway, it’s not how you play the game, it’s whether you win or lose, and you most definitely won.” She leaned over and gave him some sugar. Bellatrix made a disgusted sound. Ginny pulled away and kept to her side of the table.

“Hey, you know what we need?” Ginny said. “A kitten!”

“No cats,” Bellatrix said immediately.

“Come on,” Ginny said. “Kittens are adorable! And they’re useful too. I hear Hermione Granger’s got a bunch she’s trying to get rid of.”

“I don’t want an ugly cat,” Draco said. “And her kittens will be ugly.”

“Well, do you know of any cute kittens?” Ginny asked.

“Did anyone hear me? I said no cats!” yelled Bellatrix.

An awkward silence fell.

“So,” said Ginny, in a peacekeeping attempt. “This is good spaghetti.”

Bellatrix glared at her.

“Really. The noodles are very squiggly and the sauce is a nice shade of red,” said Ginny, poking at her plate with her fork.

“Draco, can you tell your tramp to shut her trap?” Bellatrix said.

“Um,” said Draco. He shoveled a few more bites of spaghetti into his mouth, knowing that neither woman would ask him a question if his mouth was full, out of fear of becoming covered in half-chewed spaghetti. All he had to do was keep his mouth full for the remainder of the meal and he could go hide underneath his car, pretending to work on, well, anything. Neither Ginny nor Bellatrix knew enough about cars to question him.

“At least I’m trying to get along with you!” snapped Ginny. “I think you’re a psycho, butch bitch but I don’t go around announcing it at the dinner table, now do I?”

Draco concentrated on chewing.

Bellatrix slammed her fork down, sending a red spray of spaghetti sauce. It flicked across Ginny’s pale blue top and Ginny shrieked indignantly. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me,” said Ginny, pulling at her shirt to inspect the damage.

“I must have been distracted by your pudginess,” Bellatrix said calmly. “Good thing that shirt’s ruined, it wasn’t flattering at all.”

Ginny stared, and burst into tears. “I’m not fat! I can’t be!”

“She broke quick,” muttered Bellatrix to her nephew. “I’ll have to remember to play the fat card again.”

“Draco, do you think I’m pudgy?” Ginny wailed.

“Not at all,” Draco said through his mouthful of spaghetti. He continued to chew, feeling more and more like a cow with every chomp.

“Come on, Draco, you have to admit that she’s got a little extra baggage around the middle,” Bellatrix coaxed.

Ginny stood, still crying, and ran out of the room.

Draco sighed. “You do realize she’s pregnant, right?”

Bellatrix paused. “Um. I may have forgotten about that what with all the taunting.”

“So teasing her about her weight is a very bad idea,” Draco said slowly. He loved his aunt, but she was a mess. And now he would have to deal with a crying Ginny, which he had learned over the past week was as perilous as walking across a minefield. The slightest wrong word would turn tears into a screaming fit where things were launched at both his head and the parts Ginny deemed responsible for her condition.

“That doesn’t make her any less of a tramp,” said Bellatrix.

Draco wished everyone would stop telling him his wife was a tramp.

“In fact, it makes her more of a tramp,” Bellatrix said. “Just like your mother.”

Draco wished that his wish had been granted, and that it had included a clause where his mother wasn’t to be called a tramp. At least, not where he could hear it.

“Your mother was pregnant when she married your father, you know. You’re lucky she picked the right guy,” Bellatrix continued. “It would have been mighty embarrassing for Severus otherwise. Or Walden. Or Antonin.”

Draco wondered if he could somehow escape. He could claim he needed to comfort his upset wife. He opened his mouth to do so but Bellatrix continued talking. “Now Lucius is a fine man. If you hadn’t been conceived then I might have convinced Lucius that I was the sister worth marrying. But no, Narcissa had to go get knocked up.”

“I should go... Ginny...” said Draco desperately.

“Your father was great in the sack, after all. Your mother’s a lucky woman,” Bellatrix said.

Draco fled downstairs.

“Ginny?” he called.

“What do you want, you bastard?” came her muffled voice from the bathroom.

He followed her voice and pushed the door open. Ginny was standing in front of the mirror, inspecting her middle critically.

“Gin, you know not to take anything Aunt Trixie says seriously, right?” Draco said cautiously.

“Look at me! I’m massive!” Ginny said in response. Draco looked for the massive weight accumulation Ginny was upset about but couldn’t see anything different from usual.

“I think you’re perfect,” said Draco.

“I’ve gained weight! I never gain weight!”

“You do realize that you will gain weight what with the baby and all, right?” Draco asked cautiously.

“Eventually, yeah,” Ginny said.

“It’s supposed to happen,” said Draco. “And you’ll look just as beautiful then as you do now.”

He privately thanked Pansy for forcing him to sit through all those chick flicks when they’d been dating. He hadn’t been paying attention at all, really, but apparently he’d picked up some useful things, judging from Ginny’s sudden smile. He hugged her, grateful for a disaster mostly diverted.

“We’re totally getting a cat,” Ginny mumbled into his shoulder. “I’ll teach that cow to call me fat.”

 

The Shotgun Bride

Chapter Twenty-One: Family Tradition

****

“What do you think?” Ginny asked, holding out a calico kitten.

"Do we really need a cat?” Draco replied, watching as the kitten mewled and clawed at Ginny.

“Yes!” Ginny insisted, putting the calico back in the cardboard box and fishing out a white kitten. “What about this one?”

“You’re just trying to piss of Aunt Trixie,” Draco accused, not giving the kitten a second glance.

“And you know she could raise our rent.”

“She won’t care,” Ginny said carelessly.

“Plus, I refuse to have a white cat. It isn’t manly,” Draco said, glaring at the cute kitten. “Where are the kind that kick the other cat’s asses?”

Ginny glared, and put the kitten down. “They’re kittens, Draco, they don’t fight.”

As if on cue, two of the kittens began to fight over the prime corner of the box.

Draco said, “We don’t need one of these, do we?”

Ginny pouted, but started walking away from the box and into Wal-Mart. “I thought it would be fun to have our very own pet.”

Draco realized that he would come off looking much better if he gave in now. “I think Marcus said something about trying to get rid of some kittens.”

Ginny brightened. “You mean, you want a cat too?”

“Well,” Draco said.

Ginny enthusiastically hugged him as though he had joyously exclaimed, “Of course I do, love of my life!”

“What are we going to name it?” Ginny asked. “I like the name Fluffles.”

Draco imagined himself standing on the doorstep in his underwear yelling, “Fluffles? Where are you, Fluffles?” He shook his head. “Not Fluffles. How about we wait until we actually have the cat to name it?”

Ginny replied, “What, are you going to wait until we have the baby before picking out a name for it? It’ll be walking around before you finally say, ‘Gee, I think we should name the kid Jamie?’”

“I wouldn’t name my kid Jamie,” replied Draco. “He’d be beat up in school.”

Ginny sighed and said, “I think we should name the baby Ariel. Or Belle. Or Jasmine.”

Draco blinked. “Have you been watching Disney movies all day again? And besides, our son is not going to be named Jasmine.”

“And what do you think is a good name?” replied Ginny.

“Jack,” replied Draco, completely off the cuff. “There’s still plenty of time for me to come up with a name.”

“You?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah. Remember our agreement?” Draco said. “If it’s a boy, which it will be, I name him.”

"When it’s a girl, I’m going to name her Ariel Jasmine,” Ginny replied.

Draco could see this was going nowhere good for him so he rapidly decided to change the subject. “When do you want to get the cat?”

Two hours later, Ginny happily bouncing into their room, clutching a medium sized grey kitten.

“Now, we have to pick a name!” she said, setting the cat on their bed.

After several minutes of bickering, threats and power plays, Ginny had an IOU for a new pair of shoes and the kitten was dubbed Bocephus.

A door opened upstairs, and Ginny said, “I’m going to go show off Bocephus!”

Draco trailed up the stairs after her, wanting to see the expression on Aunt Trixie’s face when she realized that there would be a kitten living in her house.

“Bellatrix!” Ginny exclaimed, startling the dark-haired woman. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Bellatrix eyed the kitten. The kitten mewled at her. “I thought I said no cats.”

“Oh, I know you were just kidding,” Ginny said. “No one honestly doesn’t want a kitten.”

“What are you calling it?” Bellatrix asked, reaching out and petting the kitten tentatively.

“Bocephus,” replied Ginny.

“Well,” said Bellatrix, “at least you named it something decent.”

Ginny set down the cat as the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” she said.

***

“Do you think Mom just sprang this on us so we wouldn’t run again?” Ginny asked.

“Probably. We could still make it out of town before they noticed, you know,” Draco replied.

“Knowing that they know us, I wouldn’t be surprised if I have a brother stationed on every road out of town,” said Ginny. “It’ll be easiest if we just go, and then come up with an excuse to escape as soon as things get squirrelly.”

“Because things are going to get real squirrelly,” agreed Draco.

“Why oh why did Mom decide that she needed to throw us a wedding dinner?” Ginny wailed.

“And everyone’s going to be there, and that always ends badly. Always!”

Draco darted his eyes, and saw that his wife was indeed beginning to tear up. “It’ll be fine, Gin,”he said desperately. The last thing he needed was to show up at the Weasley zoo with a tearful bride. “Everyone did okay at the barbeque, and it’s a celebration for you!”

“That’s true...” Ginny said.

“And we can always take off,” Draco said. “Like you suggested.”

“I guess,” Ginny acquiesced. “And Mom did say she had a surprise for me...”

Draco was relieved that Ginny, at least, was calmed down, as they were rapidly approaching the Weasley home, where certain doom was awaiting. They drove up to the house, and went directly to the backyard, where masses of redheads and a few blonds were gathered.

“Finally they decide to arrive!”

Draco wanted to groan as his mother’s voice was the first to reach him. She was standing between Molly and Jo. He knew that he should go and greet his mother and his in-laws, and his mother probably wanted him to thank Molly for throwing this supposed celebration, but really, standing near the grill and risking both his hair and good looks to third degree burns sounded much more enjoyable. At least over there he could see his father, who was mostly on his side, and there was fire to be made. He was an adult now, married with a baby on the way, maybe he would finally get to light the grill...

Ginny dragged him towards the mothers.

Maybe he’d just have his own damn barbeque, and light the grill ten times if it struck his fancy.

He should leave now and do that. His mother would understand the need to show his manhood by burning meat over flames.

“I’ve been here fifteen minutes already,” said his mother. “Where have you been?”

Maybe she wouldn’t understand.

“Trying to get here?” he said. Years of experience made him make the statement a question, because then he was just being a dumbass instead of a smartass, which by his mother’s reckoning was much more disrespectful and therefore was much more likely to earn him a wallop upside
the head. He really didn’t want to have the collective Weasley clan see his mother wallop him.

His pride and reputation would never recover.

“I’m sure,” replied his mother tartly.

Mrs. Weasley eyed them both. “Why are you two late?” she said suspiciously. “I do hope you both remember that your honeymoon is over.”

Draco resisted the urge to groan and cover his face with his hands. He was not a sissy boy. He could handle harrassment. He schooled his features not to react, other than the slightest hint of aggravation. Ginny, on the other hand, snapped, “Mom!”

“Really, Molly,” said Jo. “They aren’t rabbits. Or like you were when you were a newlywed. I remember finding you and Arthur going at it in the bathroom at a dinner we had for you two after your wedding.” She turned to Narcissa. “She never did have any class.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow coolly, and said, “Whereas you simply ooze class.”

Jo looked affronted. It was obvious she had expected an ally in Narcissa, and to be shot down so completely startled her.

“Anyway, dear,” Molly said, glancing at her mother as though she expected her to interrupt at any moment, “I told you I had a surprise for you.”

“You did,” Ginny said nervously.

Molly beamed, and said, “Here it is!” and handed Ginny a small envelope. Ginny felt a surge of hope. Maybe it was money! Maybe it was a gift certificate to the Tractor Supply Co. Maybe it was... a recipe?

She stared at the index card she had just pulled out of the envelope. It was a recipe for biscuits and gravy.

“Um, thanks Mom,” she said.

“You know that’s my top secret recipe, and I felt it was time to pass it onto you!” Molly said.

“My little girl’s all grown up!”

Ginny was enveloped in a big hug, feeling vaguely disappointed and as though she had been tricked into coming. She needed a new belt. She needed money. She didn’t need a recipe.

By the time she had been released from her mother’s bear hug, Draco had wandered off towards the crowd of Weasley brothers, no doubt looking for trouble to keep himself from becoming bored, and her mother was looking at her expectantly, as though she expected her to have some
sort of big speech over the recipe.

“I got a kitten,” Ginny said, and it suitably distracted the matriarchs from talking about recipes, until the jeering from where the boys stood lead them to see what the fuss was all about.

****

Meanwhile, Draco had indeed wandered off and gotten into trouble. The hotheaded Weasley brothers had clumped around him when he had gone off in search of something to drink, and were now apparently trying to include him within their fold while still trying to prove themselves better than he was.

“You wanna race?” puffed Ron.

“I would if I thought there was any competition,” replied Draco, glancing around.

The Weasley boys jeered. Lucius smirked superiorly. The women collectively rolled their eyes.

Ron cast a glance at the driveway area, where Draco’s Chevelle sat gleaming next to the rusted Ford pickup that served as the main means of transportation for the Weasley boys. They had other cars, but none were quite up to the task of starting, much less running. It was painfully
obvious who would win the race, before it even started.
“A lawnmower race!” exclaimed Ron quickly.

“Where?” Draco asked, looking around for racing lawnmowers. Ron misinterpreted this as an agreement to a lawnmower race, and pointed to a clearing where a circle of dirt had been worn by generations of Weasleys racing small motorized vehicles.

“There.”

Draco knew he was trapped. He couldn’t back out now, he’d look like a coward. He would have to bear the indignity of racing lawnmowers with a Weasley. Maybe no one would mention this again if he beat Ron badly enough. How hard could a lawnmower really be to handle, after all?

Ten minutes later, straddling a blue lawnmower named Big Bertha, Draco wished that he had just taken the coward’s way out.

“You ready to rock ‘n roll?” Ron exclaimed from his perch atop Rockin’ Rhonda the red lawnmower.

“I guess,” Draco said, staring hard at the shifter and hoping that it worked the usual way. He gripped the wheel with one hand, felt the tricked out engine vibrate beneath him and prepared to make Ron eat his dust.

“Okay, first one around the track twice wins,” announced Bill from beside the duct-tape start line.

Fleur stepped up next to Bill and held out a checkered flag tied to a stick. “On your mark,” she said breathily. “Get set. GO!” She waved the flag and wiggled her bottom.

Draco went. In fact, he went a lot faster than he expected and nearly slid off the seat, momentarily, inexplicably wondering if maybe safety gear might have been a good thing to have.

It was too late to turn back, so he jammed at the accelerator, trying to edge in front of the obviously more experienced redhead at the helm of the red lawnmower.

Draco could hear the yells of their audience as he concentrated on trying to edge Ron off the track, into the waist-high tumble of grass and weeds that lined the track. If he was lucky Ron would get tangled in it and he would win by default.

“Run him over!”

“Knock him out of your way!”

“Don’t let that ferret beat you!”

He didn’t dare risk crashing by looking to find out who had called him a ferret, but after this race was won he planned on finding out who it was, and they would pay. Oh yes, they would pay.

His thoughts were so focused on revenge that he slipped behind, and Ron took advantage to pull ahead. Draco knew that he couldn’t lose, so he revved the lawnmower up even more, and slowly started to inch past Ron, pulling to the inside of the track to gain as much ground as possible. As
they hit the corner, Draco’s lawnmower pulled alongside Ron’s. and as they pulled onto the home stretch they were neck in neck.

“Ha!” Ron cheered prematurely as he pulled ahead of Draco.

Draco put the hammer down and urged his lawnmower to move faster, frustrated that Ron was in danger of winning.

“Argh!” Ron suddenly yelled as a large branch appeared in his path. Draco caught a glimpse of red hair and shapely leg as the thrower of the branch hurried back to join the rest of the audience.

Ron’s lawnmower hit the branch, bounced, and Ron went flying. Draco steered around the still-moving mower and crossed the finish line triumphantly.

“No fair,” mumbled Ron as he picked himself off the ground.

A few pebbles were embedded in his cheek and it looked as though he had landed nose-first.

“What’s not fair?” Draco asked. “I won.”

“There was a branch!” Ron protested.

“And you hit it, and did that awesome nosedive into the ground. I saw,” Draco said calmly.

“Exactly! There was interference!” yelled Ron, waving his hands around his head crazy-like.

“I’m not racing you again,” Draco said. “No one mentioned anything about interference before the race.”

Ron pouted and went to be comforted and get the gravel removed from his face by his mother.

Draco meandered over to his wife, who grinned at him. “Nice job,” he said.

“I think I’m supposed to say that to you,” Ginny replied.

“It’s time to dig in!” someone yelled.

“You up to eating?” Draco asked, putting his arm around Ginny and heading towards the tables.

“I think so,” she replied. “Just nothing with mayo.”

He let her pick the seats, and was happy to see she chose the seats near his parents, and far away from her mamaw. Bill sat across from them with Fleur, who was chattering away in a broken mix of English and French.

“Is she Canadian?” Draco asked in a whisper. Some Canadians spoke French. He’d seen that on Conan.

“She’s Cajun,” whispered Ginny.

“Oh,” Draco replied. “Like Gambit.”

Ginny gave him an alarmed look. “Please don’t start talking about comic books.”

The stragglers were finally arriving at the table. Harry Potter sat down next to Bill, and a few seats down Severus Snape took the chair next to Lucius.

“What’s he doing here?” Ginny whispered.

“I guess Mom invited him,” replied Draco. Snape was widely acknowledged as a slimeball - he taught Chemistry at Slytherin, and was infamous for doing outside ‘experiments’ that yielded a variety of illegal substances. He wore his greasy hair in a slicked-back ponytail, and had what
was supposedly artful facial hair that mostly just looked like he had shaved in the dark.

“You!” declared Harry Potter dramatically upon seeing Snape.
“What is the orphaned brat doing here?” asked Snape in a voice like lard over polyester.

“Gah!” Harry yelled, and threw a chicken wing at Snape. The wing bounced off Snape’s forehead, leaving a greasy smear of sauce, and flew across the table (as wings are wont to do) to land in Lucius’s hair.

Ginny was watching the scene with wide eyes, wondering which way to leap when Lucius exploded. He was awfully picky about his hair.

Draco was wondering what, exactly, had gone down between Snape and Harry to incite chicken tossing. He leaned over and asked Ginny.

“You didn’t hear about that time when Dumbledore made Snape teach Harry squirrel hunting?” she asked.

“No,” Draco replied.

“Well, Snape took Harry out, and Harry was awful at it... couldn’t aim and didn’t have the patience to wait for squirrels to show up. So Harry finally thought he saw one, so he shot at it and totally hit Snape instead!”

Draco snickered. “Where at?”

Ginny grinned. “On the butt, of course. Rumor has it Snape had to use a pink inflatable donut for weeks.”

“So why does Harry hate Snape so badly then?” Draco asked.

“Something or another to do with his godfather and unfairness. I’m really not all that clear on it,” Ginny replied.

Meanwhile, Lucius had picked the bits of chicken wing out of his blond tresses, and was staring at them with a distinctly disbelieving air. “Whose wing is this?” he finally asked.

Harry studiously stared down at the table.

“His,” contributed several voices, fingers pointing towards Harry.

He looked up, betrayed, but quickly saw that he was greatly outnumbered so accepted blame with all the grace of a newborn colt. “Nuh-uh!”

“You threw it,” offered Fleur. She turned to Lucius. “He threw like a little girl. I believe he is having a spat with the greasy homme over there.”

“It isn’t a spat!” snapped Harry, flustered and angry. “He mocked my dead parents!”

If looks could kill, the one Lucius was shooting at Harry would have knocked him, his unborn descendants and his ancestors dead in an instant.

“Your dead parents deserve mocking!” cried Snape.

“This is embarrassing,” Narcissa said.

“Want to sneak away?” Draco whispered.

“Can’t. Mom’s watching us. She knows we’re likely to bolt.”
Ginny watched as Lucius furiously patted at the sauce in his hair with a paper towel. “Is your dad normally that color?”

They watched with interest as Harry slunk down further and further in his metal folding chair.

“Not usually,” Draco said. “Actually, the last time I saw him hat color he had just shut the hood of his El Camino on his hand.”

“What happened then?”

“Well, let’s just say that afterwards he had to go buy a new hood,” Draco replied.

Lucius turned his glare away from the hair he could see and turned in on Harry.

The majority of the Weasleys had thus far not realized that a potentially cataclysmic event was happening, but when Harry suddenly hopped up, tipping over his Mountain Dew in the process, and yelled, “Bye!” everyone turned and stared.

“Iz he normally so... meek?” Fleur asked.

“What’d we miss?” asked Ron, watching his best friend retreat. No one answered, as everyone was too concerned with griping.

“What a temperamental brat,” Snape insisted. He turned to Narcissa. “Did you see him throw that wing at me?”

“I saw it hit Lucius,” Narcissa offered. She patted her husband’s arm. “It was just chicken, dear,you’ll be fine. You’ve already scared the child away, nothing more to do now.”

Lucius grunted.

“Man, I’ve got Mountain Dew all over me,” Bill said, staring at the elbow he had just stuck in the large puddle that formed across the table. “I’m going to be sticky!”

“What happened?” insisted Ron.

“You know,” Ginny whispered, “on second thought, I think we could get away with sneaking away. They’ll think we’re just getting it on somewhere.”

Draco peered around, seeing his father arguing with Arthur, his mother getting snippy with Jo, the Weasley boys arguing amongst themselves with Molly attempting to referee and Snape scowling as Fleur attempted to give him beauty hints.

“Let's go," Draco said. The kinfolk wouldn't notice that they were gone for a good few minutes, and by that time they would be long gone. They both quickly left the table, and were in the Chevelle and driving off into the sunset within moments.

***

Ginny yawned, and cuddled closer to Draco. “This is nice,” she mumbled lazily.

Draco nodded, continuing to toy with the hem of the t-shirt she had worn to bed. He edged it up higher until both her pale blue panties and the butterfly tattoo on her hip were visible. He traced it idly before asking, “When’d you get this?”

“A while back,” Ginny replied.

“Why’d you pick the butterfly?” Draco asked.

Ginny shrugged. “I thought it was cute. Seamus actually pointed it out, and I thought it was the prettiest of the ones they offered.”

Draco’s fingers stilled and he stiffened. “Seamus Finnigan picked out your tattoo?”

“Well, he didn’t tell me which one to get, he just suggested it,” Ginny said defensively. “I was the one who decided on it.”

Draco scowled. “Still,” he said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “So, how did you pick out your tattoo?” she asked, jabbing a finger at the black dragon sprawled across his shoulder blade.

“I picked it out all by myself, that’s for sure,” he said.

“No one suggested anything to do with it?”

“No,” he said stoutly. “Well, pretty much.”

“Pretty much?” Ginny said, latching onto the phrase like a pit bull on a t-bone. “Someone did tell you to get that one!”

“No, Pansy just said I should get a dragon, and I thought it was a good idea....” Draco argued weakly.

“That slut picked out this?” Ginny snapped, poking at the tattoo roughly.

“Not that one specifically, unlike yours,” Draco replied, shifting so that the tattoo was flat against the bed. All the poking was really making his shoulder a bit sore.

They glared at each other for a few long moments before the ridiculousness of the situation dawned on them.

“Are we really mad at each other over the exact same thing?” Ginny said, smiling slightly. “I thought you had to be married at least a year before we got to argue like an old married couple.”

“Apparently not,” Draco said. He gave her a wolfish grin. “I love you, Peaches.”

“I love you, too,” Ginny replied. “You know, It’s really a bit early for bed.”

Draco looked at the clock. The glowing numerals told him it was just past two in the morning.

“It is,” he agreed.

“We should go for a ride,” Ginny suggested. “Just like old times!”

“Old times? You mean, a month ago,” Draco replied.

“Yep,” Ginny said enthusiastically. “Come on!”

****
It was deep in the woods. Trees loomed, roads snaked, and a car was parked on a dead end road well off the beaten path. The late sixties era muscle car had its engine turned off and was rocking slightly. The windows were fogged up, and the faintest hint of figures could be seen moving in the backseat.

“Oh, Draco,” came a cry from inside the car.

THE END


Final AN: Thanks to everyone who has taken time to review! I truly hope everyone enjoyed reading this story, as it was a blast to write. There will be continuing adventures in the SB universe, for anyone interested. I’ll mention all updates on that in my livejournal (my username is Nokomis305). Thanks for reading!