Somebody to Love by Queen

Miss Weasley,
The War has caused a drop in the population of the wizarding world. To correct the situation, the International Confederation of Wizards is arranging marriages for every witch and wizard of age. The marriages are determined by a soul mate spell. Each couple will have to produce three children minimum. All forms of contraceptive are banned. Please come to the Ministry of Magic at 9:00 on Monday morning to be paired with your soul mate. If you do not show up to receive your fiancé(e) on the date above, you will be exiled from the wizarding world.
Sincerely,
Rufus Scrimgeour
Minister of Magic

Every unmarried witch and wizard of age was getting a letter exactly like Ginny’s.

“Mum!” Ginny shouted downstairs.

“What, dear?” Mrs. Weasley said, entering her daughter’s bedroom.

“I’m getting married,” Ginny announced.

“What?” Mrs. Weasley screeched. Ginny handed her the letter and watched her read it several times.

“I wonder if Arthur can do anything about this law. It just seems so ridiculous. Isn’t there another way to increase the population?”

“No, Mum,” Ginny said. “The letter is pretty clear that everyone has to get married and produce offspring or be exiled.”

“Well, what about Harry?” she pestered.

“I’m not in love with Harry. Sure, I love him, but only as a brother,” Ginny told her mother for what seemed like the billionth time.

Just then, Ron ran into the room. “Mum, I’m getting married,” he exclaimed unenthusiastically.

“So am I, Ron.”

He looked taken aback. “My baby sister is NOT getting married to some stranger, and no way is she having three kids with him!” Ron shouted, completely enraged. “I’m sending you to become a nun! Surely they can’t make you marry if you’ve pledged yourself to God?”

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother’s overprotectiveness and chewed on her lip. What if her soul mate didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like him? Ginny decided to go into her closet to pick out the perfect outfit to meet her fiancé to take her mind off of such things.

“Right?” Ron asked.

“No dear. Ginny has to get married, and so do you and your brothers,” Mrs. Weasley explained. “And I’m going to have loads and loads of grandchildren!” she added with immense glee.

* * *
The Weasley siblings, Harry, Hermione, and Luna arrived at the Ministry the following morning. They checked in at the front desk, and the receptionist told Bill to go down the hall and into room number seven. The others sat down to wait. They couldn’t help but speculate about the new couples.

“Bill and Fleur are perfect together,” Luna pointed out.

Hermione agreed. “Yes, they’re going to stay together.”

“You know who’s perfect together?” Harry said. He turned to Ron and Hermione. “You two.”

“Hopefully the Ministry thinks so, too,” Ron replied.

Hermione nodded, looking down at her shoes, thinking they were very interesting.

George turned to Fred. “I wonder where Katie is.”

“Why? So you can make sure that she gets you?” Charlie asked, giving him a slight glare and not knowing exactly why.

George looked at his brother pointedly. “Maybe.”

Ginny listened silently, watching everyone’s faces.

“Well, I don’t care what that spell says, Angelina and I are going to stay together,” Fred announced, his chin higher than usual.

His twin agreed, “You two go together like Penelope and Percy and Charlie and Alicia.”

“Charles Weasley!” the receptionist called out. Charlie stood up and walked into the room that Bill was just exiting. He was hand in had with his fiancée, Fleur Delacour, and they were both grinning like fools.

“I told you,” Luna stated dreamily.

“Percy Weasley!”

Percy stood up and left, catching Penelope’s eye as he walked through the door.

Just then Charlie walked out with a pissed off Katie Bell.

George stood up, outraged, “What the bloody hell?”

“I didn’t plan this George, so don’t go looking at me,” Charlie said, defending himself.

“Fred Weasley!”

Fred got up in a hurry, anxious to get out of his angry twin’s sight. “Love to stay and help you out, but I’ve just been called,” Fred shouted to Charlie as he disappeared into another room.

Katie tried to reason with him. “George, it’s no use. The Ministry is expecting us to get married within the month, and we can’t do anything about it.”

“George Weasley!”

“You are so dead when I get back, Charlie Weasley!” George shouted.

Just then Fred came out of the room with Angelina around his arm, beaming.

“Lucky sod,” George muttered as he went past his twin.

“Luna Lovegood!”

Luna stood and slowly made her way towards the room that the receptionist indicated.

“You know, Percy hasn’t come out yet,” Ginny said aloud, wondering what was going on behind the door.

Harry nodded. “You’re right. I wonder what’s taking him so long.”

“Here he comes now,” Hermione said, pointing, “And look who he’s with!”

“Is that...?” Ron sputtered.

Ginny laughed aloud. “Daphne Greengrass.”

“What happened to Penelope?” Ron asked, confused as to how his perfect brother ended up with a Slytherin.

“Shut up, Ron!” he snapped.

“Percy, who’s she?” Penelope asked, walking to her boyfriend and pointing at Daphne.

“His fiancée,” Daphne smirked. She wasn’t about to let some goody-two-shoes Ravenclaw insult her.

Penelope screamed at Percy and stomped out of the Ministry. Percy just king of stood there, looking stupid, which was quite uncharacteristic for him.

George exited his room, looking even angrier, dragging a frightened and annoyed Alicia Spinnet.

“George Weasley, you prick, slow down!” Alicia yelled. George stopped and was rewarded with a smack upside the head from his new fiancée.

“Ow!” He turned to glare at her.

“Good.”

The receptionist called out, “Ronald Weasley!”

Ron walked down the hall to the indicated room, looking nervous.

Luna appeared in the hallway soon after, and Harry said, “Hey look, it’s Luna with... Zabini!” Harry spat out his foe's name, venom dripping from each letter.

“Goodbye, everyone,” she said dreamily. “We’re going to Daddy’s house so he can meet Blaise.” And the odd couple walked out together.

“Hermione Granger!”

Hermione said goodbye to her friends and entered room thirteen.

* * *
When she walked into the room the spell administrator said, “Miss Granger, if you don’t mind, I’m going to perform the soul mate spell for you.” Hermione nodded and waited for the man to continue.

“Reperio comes comitits.”

In gold letters, the name Severus Snape appeared in the air before Hermione. Hermione gulped. Her luck couldn’t be than bad, could it?

The man sent a message to the receptionist, probably to floo Snape in.

"There must be a mistake," Hermione said, frantically. "You must have done the spell improperly."

"No, ma'am. There isn't a mistake," the man replied, solemn.

Just then the door opened. She shut her eyes, her back to the door, hoping that it was all a nightmare. She opened them--nope, the gold letters still said Severus Snape.

“Severus Snape, may I introduce...” the man started.

“Miss Granger?” Snape finished incredulously.

Hermione turned around to face him, tears shining in her eyes and blinking them away. “Hello, Professor.”

“Well...” the man said, feeling rather uncomfortable that he just matched up a student with her professor, “I’ve got the marriage papers here; do you want to get married now?”

“No,” Hermione said, her lips pursed, and eyes still shining with unshed tears. “Molly would flip if I didn’t have a wedding that she could plan and bully her sons into going to.”

“It’s settled, then. We’ll go see Molly right now and get married within the month,” Snape said, trying to act civil. “And another thing, Miss Granger: call me Severus if we’re to be married.”

“Likewise.”

The pair strode out of the room and toward the Weasleys. Fleur was with Bill, Katie with Charlie, Daphne with Percy, Angelina with Fred, Alicia with George, and Pansy Parkinson with Ron.

“Hermione, what are you doing with Snape?” Ron asked innocently, hoping to Merlin that it wasn’t what it looked like.

“What do you think, Ronald?” Hermione snapped. “And what are you doing with Parkinson?”

“Same as everyone else here,” Ron growled.

Snape sneered. “Can’t we just leave?” he asked Hermione, not wanting to hang around her moronic friends.

“No, we have to wait for Harry and Ginny,” she replied, sternly.

“Everyone knows that the Boy Who Won’t Die is going to be with that insufferable Gryffindor princess, so what’s the point in waiting?” he complained, but sat down to wait. “I think I’d rather brave the Muggle world.”

When Harry came out of the room, he was alone. Ginny noticed and asked him about it.

“My soul mate is Gabrielle Delacour,” he replied.

“But she’s...” Ginny started.

“Yes. Not of age,” Harry finished.

“So...?”

“They’re contacting the French Ministry of Magic to see what they can do, but for now, I’m fiancée-less.”

“Ginevra Weasley!”

“See you later, guys!” She smiled cheerily as she made her way to room fifteen. Upon entering, she knew that something was off.

“What do you mean I can’t get someone else?” the man in the chair thundered at the spell administrator.

“She’s your soul mate, and it’s the law,” the administrator squeaked.

The young man turned around, presumably to find something to throw at the shaking administrator. Then he caught sight of her and stopped. He stopped breathing, he stopped moving, hell, he thought that he was paralyzed.

To say that she had changed since he’d last seen her was a grand understatement. Her brassy red, unruly hair had darkened to a rich wine red and had been tamed into beautiful bouncy curls. Her face didn’t look like it had been dunked in a bowl of cinnamon anymore, but was sprinkled with a dusting of freckles. She’d filled out in all the right places and had generous curves in the most pleasing areas. It was safe to say that she was not a little girl anymore.

“Weasley?” he managed to choke out.

“Hello, Malfoy. If you are unhappy with the arrangement, you don’t have to marry me. I’m sure that I wouldn’t mind living in the Muggle world for the rest of my life.”

He looked her over again, then turned abruptly back to the man. “I’ve changed my mind.”

Ginny grinned. “Oh no, you don’t. You can’t go back on your decision now; I’ve already made plans to work at Burger King and live in a little apartment in New York City, you can’t go crushing my dreams.”

“Watch me,” he said low and dangerously, crossing the room to stand in front of her.

“I’d like to see you try,” Ginny challenged. She knew it was a bad idea standing so close to him and she knew his first instinct would be to kiss her, but she wasn’t going to back down. And she was half right; he closed in to kiss her, but stopped a hair away from her lips. She prepared herself for a passionate, lust-filled kiss and closed her eyes, but it never came. Instead she heard chuckling right next to her ear.

Her eyes snapped open. “You prat,” she said, hitting his shoulder for effect.

Separate Ways by Journey

Ginny and Draco walked out of the room together.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley!” Ron bellowed.

“Yes, Ron?” Ginny replied, a smirk playing on her lips, knowing it would make him even more furious.

“What are you doing with Malfoy?” His faced reddened, a sure sign of a rant to come. “He’s a Slytherin! They’re evil and conniving and--”

“And you’re marrying one!” Pansy reminded him, hitting him on the head.

Ron rounded on her. “I don’t think that that was necessary!”

“Well, I don’t think it was necessary to call all Slytherins evil; after all, one is your SOUL MATE!” Pansy yelled.

“Don’t yell at my brother!” Percy ordered her.

Daphne hollered, “Don’t tell my best friend what to do!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“STOP!” Ginny’s annoyance erupted in a loud shriek that silenced all other conversation. Everyone turned to look at her.

“We’re stuck in this situation, whether we like it or not, so let’s go to the Burrow so Mum can see her new daughters-in-law and sons-in-law,” Ginny told them calmly. She looked at Ron, grabbed her fiancé’s wrist, and dragged him out the Ministry door.

* * *
“Mum, we’re home!” Ginny shouted when she opened the door to the Burrow, Draco in tow. Mrs. Weasley emerged from the kitchen to greet her daughter. When she saw who Ginny was with, she stopped abruptly.

“Mum, I’d like you to meet Draco Malfoy,” Ginny said. “He’s my fiancé.”

“Well, hello, dear. Welcome to the family.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley. Do you happen to know where Mr. Weasley is? I’d like to ask him for permission to marry Ginny first,” Draco replied. He hadn’t been raised as an aristocrat without learning that manners should be used even with people that are lower than dirt.

“You don’t have to ask my dad anything,” Ginny said.

“I know, but it’s proper to have your parents’ blessing.”

“He’s in his workshop down the hall,” Mrs. Weasley answered.

After he left, Ginny turned toward her mother. “Mum! I cannot believe you!”

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? You were just incredibly rude to him!” Ginny said in a heated whisper. “You always accept people for who they are and give them the benefit of the doubt. Why is Draco any different?”

Mrs. Weasley sighed. “I’m sorry, dear, but I just don’t like the idea of this law.”

“Well, I don’t have a choice, unless I want to live with Muggles for the rest of my life, and that is something I don’t want to do. Can you please be nice to him?”

“Okay, I’ll try to be nice,” Mrs. Weasley consented reluctantly. The faint smell of smoke wafted into the hall. “Oh dear! I’ve got cookies in the oven!”

Ginny followed her mother into the kitchen and told her more about the other new members of the family.

* * *
Draco knocked on the door to Mr. Weasley’s workshop.

“Come in.”

Draco took a deep breath and opened the door. “Mr. Weasley, er... well, I’m Draco Malfoy, and I’m going to be marrying you daughter, but I just wanted to receive your blessing first.”

“You’re my daughter’s soul mate?” Mr. Weasley asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“But you’re Lucius Malfoy’s son!” Mr. Weasley shouted, completely enraged at the thought of a having Death Eater in the family.

“His son, not his clone,” Draco responded. “And might I remind you that Lucius is dead. I killed him during the war.”

Mr. Weasley contemplated what the young man had just said and stuck his hand out for Draco to shake. He took it. “You have my blessing. But if you hurt my daughter in any way, I will send my sons to maim you, and then I’ll torture you and leave you to die a slow, painful death.”

Draco paled. “I understand completely, Mr. Weasley.”

“Then let’s get some of those cookies that Molly was baking earlier,” Mr. Weasley suggested.

The two left to sneak some cookies before dinner.

* * *
“I’m not going to that infernal crap-hole that those rodents call a home,” Severus stated flatly.

“Pr--Severus, ever since my parents died, the Weasleys have been like family to me. We’re going to dinner at the Burrow, and that’s final!” Hermione shouted. He might be seventeen years older than her, but she wasn’t going to let him push her around. Also, she knew for a fact he had enjoyed Molly’s cooking when he stayed at Grimmauld Place during the War.

“Go have dinner with them, then. I see no reason why I should accompany you; we’re not married yet.”

“Molly specifically told me to bring my fiancé, and that’s you, whether you like it or not!”

“I’m not spending more time than necessary with that herd of red-headed animals,” he sneered.

Hermione grabbed him and Apparated them to the Burrow. “You will come, and you will like it, you git!”

“You tell him, Hermione,” Charlie commented, when they appeared.

“You stupid chit. You do realize that I can Apparate myself home, I hope.”

“Not without your wand, you can’t.” Hermione smiled, twirling the piece of wood in her hand and sticking it in her pocket.

“Insufferable know-it-all,” he grumbled.

“Severus!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. “I’m glad that you could make it this time!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Molly,” he replied through gritted teeth as the overbearing woman pulled him into a hug.

“So, why are you here?” she asked.

“Your cooking is acceptable,” he responded casually.

“Mmhmm.”

“He’s my fiancé,” Hermione explained.

“Are you?” Mrs. Weasley asked, trying to get him to admit it. She had such fun teasing him that way. He was like another son to her, even though she could be his older sister. He always needed someone to look after him, and Mrs. Weasley was always in Mother-Mode for everyone and anyone that needed her. Mostly, she wanted him to confirm that he would be part of her adopted family.

“Yes.” He spoke through clenched teeth, knowing exactly what the Weasley matriarch was trying to do. “And I was dragged here against my will to be paraded around like a trophy.”

“I knew you wouldn’t have come here unless you were forced,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Well, welcome to the family, Severus. I expect you to be at all family functions, including weekly dinners, birthday parties, and such.”

“Of course,” Severus replied, already thinking up excuses.

“Well, dinner’s ready, so come on in and sit down,” Mrs. Weasley told everyone on the porch.

When they were all sitting down and eating, Ginny asked, “Where’s Ron?”

Fred snickered. “At Pansy’s house.”

George grinned evilly and added, “Having dinner with her parents.”

“I bet he’s having fun,” Harry said, laughing.

“You know, I don’t really appreciate the way you’re talking about her,” Draco said.

“I agree,” Percy said. “It’s not really respectful. Anyway, I’m going to go through the same thing tomorrow night with Daphne’s parents.”

“Shut up, Percy,” Fred and George both said.

“Fine.”

Ron slammed the door open. “Mum, I’m going to kill them!”

Pansy followed behind him, crying softly and blowing her nose into Ron’s jacket.

“What’s the matter, dears?” Mrs. Weasley asked Ron, rushing over to Pansy.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, really,” Pansy sniffled, rubbing her tears away with the sleeve of Ron’s jacket.

“It’s not nothing!” Ron yelled.

“Ron, we’ll talk later. Pansy, come into the kitchen. I’ll get you some tea, and we can talk, just us girls.” Mrs. Weasley soothed the girl as she led her through the kitchen door.

“I’ll get a plate for you, Ron,” Hermione said, going through the kitchen and coming back, plate filled. She pulled up another chair for her friend and sat back down.

Back in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley comforted Pansy as she cried.

“Shh, dear, it’s all right,” Mrs. Weasley cooed.

“They disowned me!” she told Mrs. Weasley through her sobs. “Even though they know I have no choice but to marry Ron, they disowned me!”

“Take a deep breath, dear, and calm down.”

“They disowned me just because he’s a Weasley!” Pansy wailed.

“Why don’t I draw you bath? You can spend the night here,” she suggested.

Pansy nodded, hiccupping and wiping the tears off her face.

Mrs. Weasley exited the room, and Ron entered soon after.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“I’m better.”

“That’s good,” he said. “I never wanted that to happen, you know. I don’t like your parents, but I never wanted that to happen.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Malfoy and Greengrass would like to talk to you.”

“Would it kill you to call them by their first names?” Pansy said, sharply. “They are my friends, you know.”

“Yes, it would,” Ron replied seriously.

Pansy smiled slightly at his melodramatics.

Mrs. Weasley appeared in the kitchen and indicated that Pansy’s bath was ready.

Pansy got up and went over to Mrs. Weasley. She turned back to Ron and said, “I’ll talk to them after my bubble bath.”

“I’ll tell them.”

Ron followed Pansy out of the kitchen and watched his raven-haired fiancée walk up the stairs and enter the bathroom. He turned to her friends, “She’ll talk to you after she’s calmed down.”

“Thanks, Ron, for being there for her,” Daphne said. “You see, her parents were always striving for her to marry someone like Draco or Blaise. She never wanted that, but she went along with it to make them happy. And now that she’s marrying you, well, they couldn’t stand for it, because she was ‘destined’ to marry some rich, powerful wizard and they think that that isn’t you. She loves her parents in her own way, and the fact that they won’t be there for her anymore tears her apart.”

Ron nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Daphne mumbled something noncommittal and turned towards Percy to see if she could strike up a conversation with him.

Draco whispered something in Ginny’s ear and she whispered back; a horrified look crossed his face.

Hermione argued quietly with Severus over some Potions book or theory, their voices slowly getting louder as they disagreed.

Angelina scolded Fred and George for putting something in Percy’s drink, and Alicia confiscated said drink to prevent chaos.

Bill and Fleur had retreated who knows where for some privacy.

Charlie spoke animatedly about dragons, and Katie listened patiently and added her own input.

Everything was going well in the Weasley household, even though there were quite a few Slytherins invading the once Gryffindor home.

Loco-motion by Grand Funk

Draco and Daphne walked up the stairs of the Burrow to the room that their friend was staying in.

“Pans?” Daphne said, knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

Pansy was curled up in bed with a box of tissues, sniffling.

Daphne rushed over to hug her. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

“Weasley made it worse, didn’t he?” Draco sneered.

“Unwittingly,” Pansy confessed.

“Knew it,” he said, disdainfully.

“He was trying to make it better, Draco. He just didn’t know how and ended up ruining it. It’s not his fault!” Pansy cried.

“Shh, honey. They’ll come to their senses by the time the wedding rolls around. They’ll see how happy you are with him and they’ll be sorry that they ever let you go,” Daphne told her.

Pansy sighed. “But I’m not happy with him.”

“I’ll kill him for you so you don’t have to marry him,” Draco said hopefully.

“I don’t want you going to Azkaban. And he’s really not that bad. I mean, he could be worse,” she reasoned.

“Like Professor Snape,” Daphne giggled.

“Very true,” Pansy agreed. “I almost feel bad for Granger.”

“You’d better get some sleep, Pans,” Draco suggested, kissing her on the forehead. Daphne hugged her, and they made their exit.

Pansy snuggled back into the covers. She was almost asleep, when the door opened and a burst of light entered the room, startling the girl from her half-sleep. The door-opener entered the room and peeled down to boxers before Pansy realized that it was Ron and that this must be his room.

Ron turned to his bed and stopped. “Bloody hell, Pansy! What are you doing in my bed?”

“Your mum said I could sleep here,” she explained in a quiet voice.

Ron’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I just feel like this whole thing is my fault. And I am really sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ron. It’s not your fault,” she replied, keeping him from blame for the second time that night.

“And I’m sorry that I yelled at you just now,” he added.

“It’s okay, Ron. I’ll just leave.”

“No, you keep the bed. I’ll take the floor,” Ron insisted.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take the floor whenever friends stay over. I’m used to it.”

Pansy refrained from one of the biting comments she would have usually thrown at him for sleeping on the floor--she would have, before he stood up for her against her parents.

She couldn’t stop the memories from earlier than night.

“Pansy, if you marry him, we will disown you,” Pansy’s father informed her.

“It’s the law!” she yelled. “I have no choice!”

“Andrew, call the lawyer and have Pansy removed from our will,” Mrs. Parkinson said.

“I cannot believe you!” Ron shouted, his face turning red. “She’s your only daughter! How can you just get rid of her? The Ministry is forcing us to get married! Did you not hear the forcing part? Does that part have you confused? I’m not forcing her. She’s not forcing herself. She doesn’t want to marry me and I’m not all that keen on marrying her myself. It’s the Ministry and their stupid law!”

“Our decision stands,” Mr. Parkinson stated.

“Let’s go, Pansy.” Ron said, turning to her.

As Pansy thought of the disastrous dinner, fresh tears sprung to her eyes and she cried herself to sleep. Ron lay awake for a long time, listening to his fiancée trying to muffle her sobs into his pillow, and with each one he wished more and more that he could do something to make her pain stop.

* * *
Ginny bounded down the stairs the next morning and into the kitchen. She emerged with a plate filled high with breakfast that Mrs. Wealsey had just prepared and sat down on the edge of the couch where Draco was sleeping.

“I’ve decided that we have to get to know each other better,” Ginny announced.

Draco ignored her and rolled over.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Five more minutes, Mum,” he mumbled.

“I’m not your mother, Draco Malfoy, I’m your fiancée and you’re going to get up this instant!” Ginny told him firmly, sounding faintly like her own mother.

“No,” Draco moaned into his pillow.

“Fine,” Ginny said. “You leave me no choice.” She yanked the blankets off him, sat on his legs, and tickled his feet. He let out a girlish shriek and writhed underneath her.

“Stop!” he laughed. “Stop, stop, stop! I can’t bloody take it anymore!”

“Are you going to get up?” Ginny asked, still tickling his feet.

“Yes!”

“All right then,” she said, letting him up.

“How did you know that would work?” he asked after he recovered from the attack.

“Lucky guess. Plus it works on all of my brothers.”

Draco sat on his feet for protection. “Hmph.”

“Oh, stop being a baby,” Ginny scolded.

“Malfoys are never babies,” he replied pompously.

“That must have been hard for your mother when she gave birth to you.”

“Malfoys never act like babies. Happy?”

“You must have had an interesting babyhood then. No crying, wetting yourself, or drinking from a bottle. You must have been practically grown up when you came out.”

“You know what I mean,” he snapped.

Ginny laughed. “Are you always this grumpy in the morning?”

“Malfoys are never grumpy, either,” Draco stated. “And if they were, it would be because they were rudely awoken by an annoying Weasley.”

“Fine,” she said, stony-faced. “I was trying to be nice and save you some breakfast, but I think I’ll eat now.” Ginny walked into the kitchen with the plate that filled high with pancakes and bacon and fruit.

“Breakfast?” Draco said, perking up and running after Ginny.

“I’ll take that,” he said, intercepting the plate before she had a chance to eat anything.

“Hey! No one. Takes. My food.”

“I believe I just did,” he drawled, picking up a pancake and stuffing it in his mouth.

As he walking into the kitchen, Ron stole a pancake off the highly coveted plate. “Oooo, bad idea taking Ginny’s breakfast; most important meal of her day, you know,” he told Draco, snickering at the thought of ferret boy being hexed into next week.

“Hey, Weaselbee, that’s my breakfast!”

“First off, it’s Ginny’s, and I, as her brother, have earned the right to steal from her plate, Ferret.”

“No, it’s my breakfast--she stole it from me!”

“Yes, I did steal if from you, but you were being a pain in the... behind!”

“Why don’t you just say arse?” Draco asked.

“She doesn’t swear,” Ron interjected. “It’s morally wrong.”

“I see.”

Ginny ran across the room and snatched the plate away from Draco, determining whose breakfast it actually was.

“Would you stop talking about me? I’m right here,” she said as she stuffed her face, trying to finish off the plate before the boys came for it.

Draco turned towards her slowly, noticing that the plate was gone from his hands.

Ginny took the last piece of bacon, shoved it in her mouth, and swallowed it. “There, now that I’ve eaten, I’m going to hex a certain part of your anatomy off for even thinking for one second that you could steal my breakfast and get away with it.”

“For the last time, it’s my breakfast!” he said, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, looking like a two-year-old that didn’t get his way. Ginny advanced toward him, wand out and red hair untamed.

“It’ll only hurt you, you know,” Draco reasoned, uncrossing his arms and backing away slowly. “You’ll be married to my fried bits and have to produce three kids with them.”

“You sick... pig!” Ginny shouted, shooting spells at him. Draco ran around the kitchen trying to dodge her hexes, but went down with a Leg-Locker curse and then Bat-Bogeys started to attack him. Ron laughed so hard that he was on the floor clutching his stomach.

Just then a drowsy Fred, George, and Pansy walked into the kitchen. Fred and George started laughing immediately and Pansy reluctantly giggled at her friend, who was trying to defend himself against the Bat-Bogeys.

“Pansy!” he shouted, appalled that she would find his pain funny.

“Finite Incantatem.” she sighed, waving her wand towards him. She helped him up off the ground. “Thanks, Draco, I needed that laugh.”

“I’m glad you find my agony amusing,” he pouted.

Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on in my kitchen?” she demanded.

“Your daughter hexed me! Twice!”

“Rat,” Ginny muttered.

“Ginevra, you know not to hex anyone in the kitchen,” she scolded.

“All right then, Malfoy, let’s take this outside,” Ginny suggested.

“Ginevra!”

“Fine, I’m sorry I hexed you,” she grumbled. “even though you stole my food.”

“Apology accepted, even though you stole my food first.”

“You deserved it!”

“Did not!”

“You were being rude to me!”

“Was not!”

“Whatever. Hey, Parkinson, want to go grab the other girls and have a girls’ day out?”

Pansy smiled. “That sounds like fun, Weasley.”

“Send an owl out to Greengrass, will you? Hermione and I will owl Luna, Fleur, Katie, Angelina, Alicia, and Gabrielle.”

“Sure.”

The boys looked at the girls like they had lost their minds. Why would they want to go out together? Most of them were either enemies or not on speaking terms.

The girls ignored their looks and left the kitchen to owl their friends and future sister-in-laws.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cindy Lauper

Ginny, Pansy, and Hermione met up with the other girls at the spa that Pansy and Daphne frequented. The ten girls had to split up, because there weren’t enough attendants for all of them to get manicures and pedicures at the same time. So, Fleur, Gabrielle, Ginny, Pansy, and Hermione headed to the massage room and Luna, Katie, Daphne, Angelina, and Alicia sat down to get their nails painted.

Once the five were in the massage room and thoroughly relaxed, Gabrielle asked, “Est-ce que vous pensez à votre fiancés?”

Pansy mumbled, “English please.”

“Gabrielle, anglais, s’il te plaît,” Fleur clarified for her sister.

“D’accord. Wat do you sink about your fiancés?” she repeated in English.

“I want to ‘ear wat ‘ermione sinks about ‘er professor being ‘er fiancé,” Fleur commented.

“Ugh, I have no idea.”

“The opinionated and mighty Hermione Granger doesn’t know what she thinks about a situation? Unbelievable!” Ginny remarked in a sports caster voice.

“Ha ha.” She scowled. “I really have no idea what I think about him. I mean he’s snarky as always, and the only real conversation I’ve had with him was about Potions Theory. He’s incredibly intelligent, and I guess he has a dark and mysterious look going for him, but other than that, I have no idea.”

Pansy smirked. “What about you, Ginny? What do you think of the great Draco Malfoy?”

“He infuriates me beyond belief! I’m trying to relax, Parkinson, so don’t get me started on him!” Ginny snapped, her face turning red as she glared at the floor. “He’s halfway decent one moment, and then you say something nice to him and he’s a git again! And then he smirks at you, that beautiful smirk--I mean, I want to throttle him!”

“Zhere iz somesing else zhat you want to do wiz ‘im bezides srottle ‘im,” Fleur grinned.

Ginny paled. “No!”

Gabrielle agreed with her sister. “Oui.”

“Tell me about Ron, Parkinson,” Ginny demanded, changing the subject, a blush creeping up her neck.

“We’ll get back to this topic later, but for now, I’ll humor you,” Pansy replied. “He stood up for me against my parents and he gave up his bed and slept on the floor for me. He’s sweet, but he’s got a temper.” She smiled, remembering how when he had yelled at her parents, he had held her hand, trying to comfort her.

“There’s more than that, Parkinson,” Hermione stated.

“Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t.”

“A toi la parole, ma sœur,” Gabrielle said, directing the attention off of Pansy.

“I was already engaged to Bill. I love ‘im,” Fleur said simply.

“That’s nice,” Hermione commented, smiling sadly. “At least someone came out of this mess loving their fiancé.”

“Aw, Hermione, maybe it’ll happen for you too,” Ginny said, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

Feeling uncomfortable, Pansy spoke up. “Gabrielle, what do you think of Potter being your fiancé, even though you’re only thirteen?”

It took a minute for the young French girl to comprehend the quickly spoken English. “I ‘ave not talked to ‘arry lately, but wat I remember of ‘im--’e is very ‘eroic.” An adoring look crossed Gabrielle’s face and the room was not oblivious to it.

“That’s sweet. But, Gabrielle, you’re underage. Are you going to get married this month like everyone else?” Ginny asked.

“Non. We ‘ave to wait until I am of age--four years from now.”

“Lucky,” Pansy grumbled.

The room filled with a tense silence.

“Look at ze clock! C’est time for our seaweed scrubs and manicures and pedicures!” Fleur announced, trying to alleviate the tension.

The five women slowly got up from the tables, not wanting the massages to end, and went into the next room to complete their spa treatment.

Katie, Daphne, Angelina, Alicia, and Luna filed into the massage room, shaking their hands and feet and trying not to mess up their nails. They lay down on the tables carefully and the masseuses began to work. There was a communal sigh of pleasure across the room, and satisfied smiles graced everyone’s faces.

“I hope there isn’t an infestation of Botteldoups in here,” Luna said.

“I can’t believe Blaise’s soul mate has an obsession with imaginary creatures,” Daphne sneered, not being one to put up with foolish prattle.

“Rattlebrabs,” Luna told Katie knowingly.

Alicia and Angelina giggled, while Katie was trying hard not to.

Daphne rolled her eyes and closed them.

“Blaise asks about every unknown magical animal that I tell him about.”

“Mmhm.”

“Alicia, did you know that Rattlebrabs cause unnatural cynicism which inadvertently leads to depression which inadvertently leads to obesity?” Luna asked.

“No, Luna, I didn’t know that,” she replied, shaking from holding in her laughter.

Angelina decided to do damage control before their relaxing massages became a catfight. “Luna, I think Daphne’s feeling down because she doesn’t want to marry Percy. She’s doesn’t have an infestation of Rattlebrabs.”

“You’re probably right, Angelina, silly me.”

Daphne grunted. “How did I get stuck with her on my relaxing day off?”

“You’ll warm up to her eventually,” Katie told her, knowingly.

“Doubt it,” she grumbled.

“Does anyone have plans for their wedding yet?” Alicia asked, cheerfully.

“Fred and I are going to have a small wedding with exotic flowers and fireworks,” Angelina chipped in dreamily. “I’ve been planning it in my head since fifth year.”

“How sweet,” Daphne drawled.

“Well you must have had a dream wedding planned out in your head,” Katie said. “What was yours like?”

“It was an extravagant wedding in my parents’ tulip garden with the reception in their ballroom. I’d have a big, lavish dress, but back then, I was marrying Theodore Nott,” Daphne said, reminiscing, a slight smile on her face.

“Percy would love an extravagant wedding with all the press invited,” Alicia told her. “He likes to feel important.”

Daphne giggled. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Really? Because I could see it as far as a Winged Frougoddat can see,” Luna said. The girls all laughed and eased into a comfortable silence.

* * *
“I had so much fun today, but I’ve got to get back to my flat to change,” Daphne told the girls. “I have dinner with Weasley number three and my parents.”

“Good luck,” Luna smiled. “Not that you’ll need it. The stars are shining for you tonight.”

“Thanks, Luna.” Daphne looked like she was about to hug the Ravenclaw, but then though better of it. She had an image to keep after all. She hugged Pansy, (whom she deemed acceptable to hug), and Apparated away.

“Drinks anyone?” Ginny suggested.

“Il est tard, je dois rentrer chez moi,” Gabrielle replied.

“You wouldn’t ‘ave been able to go anyway. You are underage, ma sœur,” Fleur scolded. Fleur Apparated away with her sister.

“I have a date with Fred,” Angelina told the group.

“Likewise,” Alicia said. “I mean with George. He’s still... upset.”

“George,” Katie supplied as Alicia finished with ‘upset.’

Alicia smiled. “Yeah.”

“I need to spend some time with Charlie too.”

The girls nodded at each other, coming to a truce after their cold-shouldered demeanor when they found out that the other had stolen their boyfriend. The friends Apparated away, and there were only four girls left, prepared to dance and get drunk.

Three hours later, Pansy, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna were all incredibly drunk. Normally Hermione wouldn’t touch alcohol, but feeling resentment toward the Ministry and her fiancé, she decided she needed to take the edge off. A tall blond wizard noticed that the girls were pissed and personally sent a drink over to their table.

“Oooo. Free alcohol!” Hermione exclaimed when the waitress brought it over.

“I wouldn’t drink it if I were you, Hermione,” Luna warned.

“Yeah, we have no clue who that guy is,” Ginny agreed.

Pansy nodded her head, sipping her own drink.

“Lighten up, guys. We’re all going to be married in a month, lets get our kicks in now,” Hermione reasoned in a not so logical way. She downed the drink and got up to dance.

The man followed her and wrapped his arms around her, gyrating his hips against hers seductively.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered seductively in her ear.

Hermione had to draw the line there.

“Thanks for the drink and everything,” she slurred, her vision blurring, trying to pry herself away from the man. “But I have a fiancé.”

“So do I,” he drawled.

Hermione stomped on his foot, not liking the way he way speaking to her. She frantically glanced around, looking for someone. The girls were all the way on the other side of the dance floor. Suddenly, her blurry eyes caught something bright and shiny and immediately looked toward it. Sitting at a table by the window was Draco Malfoy, silvery hair and all, and sitting with him was Severus Snape.

The man grabbed her again, and she shouted to her fiancé, “Severus!”

Draco noticed the shouting and nudged his friend. They both looked over to see the blond stranger dragging Hermione off the dance floor and toward the exit. The two men stood up and ran after them.

“Severus! Severus!” she shouted, searching for him blindly. No one paid attention to the screaming girl; they were too caught up in their own business.

The Potions master grabbed Hermione’s arm so forcefully that the blond man was jerked back towards them. Severus pried the stranger’s hand off her arm and twisted it behind his back. He slammed the man into the nearest wall and said in a deathly tone, “Don’t you dare touch her or any other woman again.” He turned to Draco.

“Watch him while I take care of her,” he ordered. Draco nodded; he was glad to. The world needed less men like the pathetic prat he was holding against the wall.

Severus picked up Hermione who had sunken to the ground and Apparated.

Meanwhile, Pansy, Luna, and Ginny had come to see what the racket was about. They arrived on the scene just in time to see Snape Apparate with Hermione. Draco conjured some rope and tied the man to one of the chairs, ignoring the girls’ questions.

“Draco, what happened to Hermione?” Ginny asked after he finished tying up the man.

“This guy tried to force her to go home with him,” he replied, giving the man a kick.

“Oh, Merlin,” Ginny gasped. “Is she all right?”

“Snape’s taking care of her.”

* * *
At Severus Snape’s flat, Hermione slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Hermione, you need to tell me exactly what happened at the bar tonight,” Severus said when she opened her eyes a bit.

“He offered...drink...free alcohol...just fun...” she babbled.

“He offered you a drink? Did he give it to you personally or did he send it over?” Severus questioned, trying to determine whether the man could have slipped her something.

Hermione nodded. To what, Severus didn’t know for sure, but he had a pretty good guess that the man had slipped a potion into Hermione’s drink to get his last kicks in before the Ministry made him get married. Severus was suddenly overcome with anger. Who would ever do that to a defenseless, drunk woman? After giving Hermione a potion, he Apparated back to the bar and proceeded to beat the shit out of the attempted rapist and then notified the Auror Department to cart him off to Azkaban.

He Apparated back to his flat in time to see Hermione stirring.

“Hermione, how do you feel?” he asked, stepping toward the bed, concern written all over his face.

“Really bad,” she groaned.

“I’ll get you another potion.” He retrieved the potion from his private lab and handed it to Hermione.

She drank it. “What happened to me?”

“A potion meant to paralyze you,” Severus explained.

She groaned again and turned over, burying her head in his pillow. All of a sudden, she sat up. “Where am I?”

“In my flat.”

“Oh,” she said, flopping back down, too tired to do anything.

Soon she was asleep and Severus sat in a chair next to the bed and watched his young fiancée, vowing to never let anything bad happen to her again.

Fire and Ice by Pat Benatar

Snape Apparated out of the club with the man. The effect of the situation sobered Ginny, Pansy, and Luna up.

“Ladies, I actually had fun tonight, but I’m going to get out of here before that happens to me,” Pansy announced, Apparating before they could respond.

“Ginny, will you be okay with crazy maniacs running around if I--”

“Go home Luna.”

“Are you sure, Gin?” she asked.

“Of course,” Ginny replied. “I’ll have Draco take me home if I can’t Apparate.”

“Have a good night!” Luna smiled dreamily and Apparated.

“Come on,” Draco grunted, tucking Ginny under his arm and making his way through the masses.

“What do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?” Ginny demanded, trying to wriggle out of his tight hold.

“Getting you home so nothing happens to you,” he responded, his eyes fixed on the exit.

“I’m plenty capable of getting there myself, thank you!”

Draco ignored her, but let her go. She immediately tripped over her own feet and fell right on her butt.

“Are you going to help me up? After all, it’s your fault I’m on the floor.”

“What was I thinking doing what you told me too? Next time I’ll remember not to.” Draco responded sarcastically.

“Please do,” Ginny responded just as sarcastically.

Draco hauled her onto her feet and the pair walked toward the exit.

* * *
“So, Percy, what do you do for a living?” Mr. Greengrass asked casually over the dinner table.

“I’m an assistant to the Minister. I’m striving for a position on the Wizengamat or Minister of Magic one day,” Percy replied.

“Good, good.” Mr. Greengrass nodded. “Now, how much land do you own?”

“I don’t own any land. I rent a flat in Diagon Alley, it’s an easier commute.”

“How much money do you make?”

“Daddy!” Daphne interjected, embarrassed by the turn his inquisition was taking.

“Alright,” Mr. Greengrass relented. “Do you have an vacation homes?”

“Sir, I’m a Weasley.”

“Right,” he said, remembering. “Too true.”

“Daddy, I have to marry Percy whether anyone likes it or not, so stop!” Daphne ordered.

“One more question?” Mr. Greengrass asked his daughter.

“Fine.”

“What are your intentions concerning my daughter?”

“Well, sir, I’d like to get to know Daphne better so that we can be at least friends going into this marriage, if not more if it comes to that,” Percy answered honestly.

“Oooh. Good response,” Mrs. Greengrass cooed.

Daphne smacked her head with her hand and dropped her elbow on the table.

“No elbows on the table, Daphne!” Mrs. Greegrass scolded. “And we have a guest too!”

Daphne ignored her mother and Percy noticed her frustration with her parents.

“Daphne, it’s getting late...” he started.

“Yes!” she interupted all to happily. “And we have to...do stuff for the wedding!”

Percy smiled at her, inwardly laughing that her parents did not notice the change in her behavior.

Daphne jumped up from the table and dragged Percy out of the room. An elf rushed after them to get their coats.

“Don’t bother,” she snapped, grabbing the coats and rushing out the door. “Oh thank Merlin! We’re finally free!”

“It wasn’t as bad as it seemed,” Percy offered.

Daphne glared at him. “My father is naturally suspicious of everyone’s motives, it comes from being a Death Eater and surviving the Wars...”

“How did he...?”

“Paid off the Ministry,” she replied not missing a beat and continued ranting. “And Mother is an insipid idiot whom Daddy married because she was pregnant with me. Stupid social climber. Used the oldest trick in the book to hook a rich elitist.” She gasped, eyes wide. “I just aired out all my dirty laundry in front a Weasley.”

Percy’s jaw locked. “Yes. You did.” He turned on his heel and Apparated.

* * *

“Uuugh,” Ginny groaned as she leaned her head against the cold porcelain of Draco’s toilet.

Draco appeared at the doorway and smirked at his ill betrothed. “So this is what I have to look forward to when you’re pregnant with my children.” She threw her shoe at him and he made a grand gesture of dodging it. “Good news,” he continued as if she hadn’t tried to take off his head with a three-inch heel. “We’re going to dinner with my mother tonight.” He ducked for the second time as the other shoe joined its pair.

“You know,” Ginny started. “I was thinking about the inevitable children. Don’t you like Leo for a boy?”

“I’m not giving my Slytherin son a pansy Gryffindor name!”

“Who says he’ll be in Slytherin?”

“All Malfoys are in Slytherin,” Draco sniffed as if it was obvious.

“All Weasleys are in Gryffindor.”

Draco tossed hangover potion in her general direction and hmphed out the door. “I’ll pick you up at seven,” he called over his shoulder.

Another groan could be heard from the bathroom.

* * *

“The Botteldoups are particularly abundant this afternoon,” Luna remarked dreamily over her salad.

Blaise chuckled, “And what do Botteldoups do?”

“They provide an air of relaxation. Especially on afternoons like this. When the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and the Nargles are gone for the season,” Luna explained.

“Are Nargles irritating?”

“Oh yes, very. Especially when there’s mistletoe around, they like to breed in it.”

“Is there anything they don’t like?”

“Of course. Platinum scares them off, the shine is too bright for their eyes. Quite lucky really, I love platinum,” Luna answered, a knowing smile appearing on her face.

“Oh isn’t that fortunate,” Blaise smirked. “Seeing how your engagement ring is platinum.”

“Engagement ring?”

“You don’t expect me to have my fiancée walking around without a ring on her finger, do you?” Blaise asked.

“I never considered it really,” Luna grinned as Blaise pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket, pulling the ring out and slipping it onto her finger. It was an elegant ring with a fairly large Chrysoprase stone in the center. Luna looked admirably at it and knew Blaise had picked this ring out just for her.

“Oh Blaise, you did a wonderful job picking out this ring. It was so sweet of you,” Luna cooed.

“Sweet?” he said, choking on his tea.

“Yes.”

“No. I am anything but sweet. I’m a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake! I’m cunning, manipulative, evil, dark, cruel, but never sweet.” Blaise spat, disgusted at the thought of him sweet.

“Mhmm. Sure.”

* * *

Draco Apparated outside of Ginny’s small flat and knocked on the door.

“One second!” she shouted from the other side.

Five minutes later he knocked again.

“Hold your hippogryffs!” was Ginny response.

For a grand total of twenty minutes Draco stood outside her doorway waiting for her to come out.

“I’m ready,” she smiled as she slipped out of her flat.

“I told you seven o’clock and that means--”

“Seven o’clock,” Ginny imitated.

“--and it is now--”

“Seven twenty,” she finished. “I bet our reservations are for seven thirty anyway. You’re anal about being on time if not extremely early.”

He ignored her comment about his tendency to be a little early to everything and shoved a box at her. “Put it on before we get there.”

Inside was simple platinum band that would wrap around her finger, in between there was a pearl staggering where the ends should meet and encrusted diamonds. It was Ginny’s dream ring and he had just thrown it at her unceremoniously.

Without warning, he grabbed her arm and Apparated. They arrived at La Chance, an expensive French gourmet restaurant. When they entered the building, they were immediately swarmed with people who wanted to take their cloaks, seat them, and serve them. After their cloaks were taken, they were led to the best table in the house where Narcissa Malfoy was waiting.

“Hello Mother,” Draco greeted, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Draco,” she replied.

“Mother, this is Ginevra,” he introduced while pulling Ginny’s seat out for her.

“I know.”

“Mother, could you be a little more--”

“A little more what? Compliant? Oh yes because Malfoys are always compliant when they are forced to do something that they don’t want to do,” Narcissa snapped.

“Mother, I do have a choice. I could marry Ginevra or I could live like a Muggle.”

Narcissa was silent for a moment. “I still resent the whole situation.”

“Can we just have a nice dinner discussion before you decide anything?” Ginny asked tentatively.

“I think that’s a great idea, Ginevra,” Draco agreed.

“So, Ginevra,” Narcissa said casually even though, Ginny’s name sounded like a disease. “What is your occupation?”

“I’m studying to become a mediwitch,” Ginny smiled.

“Which of course, she’ll stop once we get married,” Draco interceded.

Ginny turned to him. “Excuse me?”

“No Malfoy wife has ever worked, why should one start now?” Draco responded.

“I’m a Weasley and we all carry our own weight, I’m no exception.”

“You will be a Malfoy.”

“We’ll see about that. I’ve heard that Malfoys aren’t compliant with anything.”

“I think its admirable for a wife and future mother to work,” Narcissa said, showing a sliver of respect for Ginny.

“Mother, that is simply ridiculous. No respectable woman would work while married,” Draco retorted.

“Oh Draco, stop living in the Dark Ages,” she replied.

The rest of the evening went quite well for a resenting Narcissa, a petulant Draco, and a determined Ginny. Narcissa decided that she didn’t quite resent the Ministry laws so much. Draco was still whining, but only to himself after being hit several times by his fiancée. Little did Draco and Ginny know that Narcissa would insist upon this being a weekly occurrence.

Beautiful Day by U2

On a sunny afternoon, Pansy and Ron were walking up a path leading to a seaside cottage.

“My parents got this for me when I turned seventeen,” Pansy said. “I always wanted a cosy little cottage where I could look out to the sea and just be me.”

“That was nice of them,” Ron replied.

“It’s the only thing I have that’s in my name,” Pansy explained the purpose of the trip. “They won’t even let me get my clothes, bought with ‘their good money.’” She started tearing up at this.

“Pansy,” Ron said, moving his hand from hers to her shoulder, rubbing gently.

“All I have is you now and you have no idea how terrifying that is,” she cried, turning towards him and wrapping her arms around him.

“What about... Draco, Daphne and Blaise?” Ron asked, remembering to use their names.

“They’re too preoccupied with their own upcoming marriages. They don’t need my troubles too.”

“They would do anything for you...”

“Of course they would, but that doesn’t mean that I want or need them to,” Pansy said, stepping out of Ron’s arms. “Do you want to see the cottage?” she asked, changing the subject and leading him by the hand up the porch steps.

“Well, I didn’t walk up that hill for nothing,” Ron smiled.

Pansy gave Ron the extensive tour, showing him each of the four bedrooms, four bathrooms, the kitchen, the dining room, the family parlor, the library, and the grounds. He was surprised at the size of the cottage. When you think cottage, you think one bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen nook, and a small living room. But the Parkinsons didn’t do anything small for their daughter, well, that was when she was their daughter.

“We could live here after the wedding,” Pansy announced, her natural confidence restored.

“That would be nice.”

The couple sat in companionable silence on the porch and looked out to the sea for a long time.

“Hey, Pansy,” Ron said, getting her attention. “I got you a ring.” He presented a gold band with a light blue tanzanite gem with encrusted diamonds on each side. It wasn’t ostentatious, but definitely ornate enough for Pansy.

“Oh, Ron,” Pansy gasped. “It’s lovely, thank you.”

They settled back into companionable silence, watching the sunset. Pansy had a grin on her face and fiddled with her ring and Ron snuck glances in her direction every now and then.

* * *

Katie Bell, grabbed a bowl from her cupboard and then scooped a generous helping of ice-cream into it, adding chocolate syrup and rainbow sprinkles. She sat down on her couch and ate a spoonful, savoring the taste of mint-chocolate chip, the green kind, of course. A pecking came from the window. She set her ice-cream bowl down and let the owl in, taking the letter, spoon still in her mouth.

Katie,

I was called back to Romania this morning. We had a hatching today. We can still meet for dinner, but it’ll have to be in my tent in Romania, and I’ll cook dinner if you bring dessert. I can cook almost as good as Mum, so you don’t have to worry about quality. Sound good? I’ve attached a Portkey, if you’re willing to spend the evening in a Dragon Reserve rather than a restaurant.

-Charlie

A small jewelry box fell out of the envelope, but Katie didn’t pick it up until she finished her ice-cream and changed into a pair of nice jeans and a blouse, in case it decided to transport her immediately. Katie picked it up after she was ready to go, but nothing happened. She opened the box and inside was a beautiful gold ring with a red coral stone wrapped in gold wire. She gasped and picked it up, feeling the familiar tug behind her navel.

“Charlie Weasley! If this is your way of proposing or what not, you’re going to have to try again! A Portkey? That’s the best you can do?” Katie shouted.

“I thought it was inventive,” Charlie muttered. “And it’s not like I can ask you to marry me, because you’re already going to.”

“It would be nice to be asked,” Katie snapped.

“Katie Bell, will you marry me?” Charlie asked, getting down on one knee.

“Yes,” Katie replied, a smile on her face. “Now, where is the dinner that I’ve been promised?”

* * *

“Mrs. Weezley, Bill and I ‘ave decided to have ze wedding at the Ministry ‘all. But do not worry because Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron will most likely ‘ave zere weddings ‘ere,” Fleur explained to her future mother-in-law.

“I see. Well, have you gotten flowers, a dress, invitations, the cake, catering...” Mrs. Weasley started, trying to find something she could help out with.

“You forget zhat Bill and I ‘ave been engaged for almost a year, we ‘ave already planned most of ze wedding. My mozer, sister, and I will be dress shopping tomorrow afternoon. You are welcome to join us,” Fleur said.

“That’s nice of you, Fleur. I think I will, unless, I have dessert tasting with Katie... no, that’s in the morning,” Molly smiled. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

“Angie! Look at my ring!” Alicia squealed, jumping out of her friend’s fireplace, waving an intricate silver and moonstone ring. “It’s from India, George got it when he was checking up on the chain in India!”

“Fred got mine while visiting the chain in Egypt, it’s malachite and silver. What’s yours, I’ve never seen it before, its very unique,” Angelina grinned.

“Moonstone and silver,” Alicia replied. “Ah! I’m so excited, Angie! I never thought George would be so... and we would be almost perfect, if not perfect, and he’s been such a gentleman,” Alicia rambled.

Angelina nodded and listened to her friend, knowing she did the same thing when she was first in love with Fred.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass walked past the fake-blonde secretary sitting at the desk outside her fiancé’s corner office.

“Mr. Weasley is busy at the moment,” she told Daphne.

“Does it look like I give a flying rat’s ass?” Daphne snapped.

“You can’t go in there,” she persisted.

Daphne ignored her and opened the door. “Percy Weasley, this harlot outside your office said you were busy, but it doesn’t look like that. If I was stupid, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

“Ms. Greengrass, if you would please...”

“Leave?” Daphne guessed. “No, I don’t think I will. See, Percy Weasley, I have something to say to you and you’re not going to run away like last time or when you disagreed with your family. For Merlin’s sake, you’re a Gryffindor.”

Percy glared at her.

“Now, I’ve come here to apologize.”

He raised his eyebrow.

“Yes. I’m sorry that I was rude to you and obviously I hit a nerve, calling you a Weasley. So here’s my olive branch: please come to dinner with me at Chez Maurice. I promise, no fronts, no parents, no siblings,” she smiled slightly at the end.

“It wasn’t that you called me a Weasley. It was the way you said it, the distain was quite obvious,” Percy said, finally speaking

“I’m sorry for that. This thing between us is extremely sudden and I need time to get over my prejudices, just as you do,” Daphne replied.

“I don’t have any prejudices.”

“Let me take you back to the day at the Ministry earlier this week, all of us were yelling. It was like school again, Gryffindors versus Slytherins,” Daphne reminded him.

“I see your point. Truce?” Percy asked, holding out his hand.

“Truce,” Daphne smiled, taking it.