CHAPTER 2: Spoiled Squash of Suffering
A little fit was a serious understatement.
“MALFOY?” Ron nearly exploded.
”Calm down, Ron. I’m sure this is all just a huge misunderstanding…”
”I will NOT bloody calm down, Ginny! That—that thing is going to stay in my house! With his mother!” Ron’s face was purple with rage.
Draco’s mouth twisted into a nasty sneer. “Don’t wet yourself, Weasley. I’m not going to sleep with you or anything. And this hardly qualifies as a house.”
Ron lunged.
…And that was the scene that Arthur Weasley came home to. Draco sneering as Ginny, with a hold on Ron’s shirt, just barely stopped him from pummeling their new guest. Oh, Lord.
“RON!”
Ron let his hands fall, looking guiltily at his dad. His face was still tinged with several shades of violet.
Arthur put on his sternest face, the one he usually reserved for special occasions. He figured this was pretty…special. “Ron, Mal- I mean, Draco, is a guest in our house, along with Mrs. Malfoy. I want you to treat them with the utmost respect. And that means no pummeling!”
Ron scowled, and Ginny finally let his shirt go. Mr. Weasley nodded in approval and continued, “That's better. Now, I want you to show Draco to Fred and George’s old room. I’ll send his trunks up later. And Ginny, your mother needs help cleaning the kitchen.”
The three looked at Arthur with identically horrified expressions. It would’ve been almost comical if the entire situation weren’t so grim. Ron and Ginny stood around for a moment, unwilling to do their respected tasks. Finally Ginny set off for the kitchen (though not without plenty of grumbling), and Ron reluctantly started up the stairs, Draco trailing behind.
This is going to be the worst bloody summer ever, the three thought simultaneously.
Who knew they could be so right and yet so wrong?
_____________________
Harry Potter was mad. No, Harry Potter was furious. Harry Potter was so sodding angry that he was thinking about himself in the third person. He picked up an inkbottle and threw it across the room, making sure he made plenty of noise. Harry smiled in satisfaction as he heard Uncle Vernon yelling at him from the stairs.
It had all began the moment he had come from Hogwarts. He had not forgotten his conversation with Ron and Hermione, and still fully intended to look for the remaining Horcruxes. In fact, the moment he had come home, he had tried to take his trunk and set off. But Aunt Petunia was having none of it. It seemed the Dursley’s all remembered Dumbledore’s visit quite well, and did not want to chance another wizard coming and using that 'stick of doom', as they now referred to wands. Harry tried to tell her that Dumbledore was quite, quite dead, but as usual, no one believed him.
They never listened! None of them! For upon learning this news, Harry had owled Ron, begging to be rescued. Molly Weasley had replied… with a Howler. The actual message had consisted of, “Don’t you dare…too young…get yourself killed…blah blah blah blah.” Or something of that sort.
The nerve of that woman! He appreciated her, but when would she stop trying to be a mother figure to him? She wasn’t his mother, and the sooner she realized it, the better. For everyone. Harry personally thought if he stayed inside this house for one more minute he would implode. Much like when you leave a bottle of butterbeer out in the sun, except messier. Much, much messier.
Harry was seriously considering just walking right out, despite the Dursley’s protests, when he saw the headline of the Daily Prophet. That was the last straw- he stopped considering it; Harry grabbed his trunk, latched it onto his broom, and took off into the sunset.
_____________________
“I refuse! I absolutely refuse to live in that filthy junkyard. I’m going to the Parkinson’s,” huffed Narcissa, eyes flashing, everything about her stance just daring someone to stop her.
Which Remus Lupin promptly did.
“I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter, Mrs. Malfoy. You either come with us peacefully, or we bind you and force you to come with us peacefully.”
Narcissa snarled, “I’d rather die!”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that was in my list of options,” Lupin said deploringly. He beckoned to the two burly Aurors who were standing by, and half a second later Narcissa Malfoy slumped to the floor, unconscious. “That’s better,” said Remus. He scooped up the slender blonde woman and Disapparated. Filthy junkyard, here we come.
The tension in the Burrow was already stifling. Draco had made a rather rude remark about Molly and her cooking; something about how cows were generally cooked, not the one’s cooking. Suffice to say, more than one person was on the edge of their leash when they heard the “pop!” usually associated with Apparition.
Ron gave an ecstatic whoop as he saw who it was. “Finally! Someone worth knowing! Professor, could you please tell us why we have a sudden ferret infestation? Mum and Dad are being all secretive with us, and it’s bloody annoying.”
”Language, Ronald!” scolded Mrs. Weasley. Ron ignored her, instead looking at Lupin expectantly.
Remus was about to answer when he was cut off by Draco’s angry growl, “What the hell have you done to my mother?” He was glaring at Lupin, his hand clenched around his dinner fork as though it were a weapon.
”Oh, that’s your mother? I thought it was a pig,” said Ron, looking quite pleased with himself for thinking of such a clever taunt.
Draco flung the fork at him. It missed, fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it.
“Would you shut UP already? Honestly, the pair of you are acting like complete ninnies, and I really want to hear Professor Lupin’s story,” snapped Ginny, speaking up for the first time since dinner began. “It could be something interesting.”
Draco smirked, "It involves me, Weasley. Of course it's going to be interesting."
She rolled her eyes.
Remus smiled at the petite redhead, “Thank you, Ginny. It is rather...interesting. I know you don’t have the Prophet delivered any longer, so I’ll start from the beginning. After Harry told us about Draco’s predicament involving the safety of his family, we had a few of our own planted among Malfoy Manor. They were there to watch and alert us about anything even remotely suspicious. A few days ago, we received an urgent call from said agents, warning us of an attack on Malfoy Manor. We managed to get Mrs. Malfoy and Draco away before these Death Eaters attac-”
“But why would they attack the Malfoys? They’re on the Other Side!” interrupted Ron.
“They were angry that Draco had failed to kill Dumbledore last year. Anyways, we managed to get the Malfoys away from the attack, but we had no idea where to put them. Headquarters was, obviously, out of the question, and we were seriously considering sending them to a Muggle establishment when Arthur here volunteered his own home,” finished Lupin.
Sensing the glares upon him, Arthur stood up and clapped his hands, “Right, kids. Well, story time is over! Off to sleepy land you go!”
All three turned around and went quietly, with the exception of Draco, who could be heard muttering, “Sleepy land…honestly…”
The voices from downstairs slowly disappeared as he climbed toward his (or rather, Fred and George's) room. He simply stood and glared at his bedroom door, as though it were its fault for everything, before opening it and stepping inside. For a moment, Draco actually thought he was dying. Then he realized that the tears in his eyes and the stench in his nose was due to yet another Weasley prank.
“Spoiled Squash of Suffering?” Draco read aloud off of the side. “Ugh, sick!” In a panic, Draco attempted to incinerate the bruised yellow vegetable with his wand, but the stench only grew worse. Suddenly the door flew open, a mass of red hair flew by, and Draco stared as the youngest Weasley scooped up the offending squash with practiced ease and tossed it out the window.
“What the hell was that? I'm afraid I don't have any spare Knuts on me, so your efforts were pretty much useless, Weasley," sneered Malfoy, trying to cover up his momentary fright.
Ginny shrugged, “With brothers like Fred and George, you learn to take the pranks as they come. I remember this one well- they tried it out on Micheal after we broke up...his face was blotchy for two whole days before Madam Pomfrey got the swelling down. And don’t flatter yourself; I don't want your money. Knowing you, you probably nicked it," she said scornfully. "The only reason I helped was because I didn’t want to have to fan the whole house in the morning. Now close your mouth and go to sleep, Malfoy.”
And with another toss of those brilliantly crimson curls, she was gone. Leaving Draco with his head buzzing full of thoughts about…well, the point is there was some activity actually going on in there. Which was unusual enough in itself.
_____________________
Authors Note:
Yes, I did edit it a bit. I got some healthy constructive criticism, and I just really wanted to improve it. The critic was right, it was quite rushed. So I went back and painstakingly edited tiny little details. Hope you enjoyed! Anyways, next chapter, find out Narcissa’s reaction to being Stunned, and where Harry went. Thanks LOADS to all the reviewers!
A little fit was a serious understatement.
“MALFOY?” Ron nearly exploded.
”Calm down, Ron. I’m sure this is all just a huge misunderstanding…”
”I will NOT bloody calm down, Ginny! That—that thing is going to stay in my house! With his mother!” Ron’s face was purple with rage.
Draco’s mouth twisted into a nasty sneer. “Don’t wet yourself, Weasley. I’m not going to sleep with you or anything. And this hardly qualifies as a house.”
Ron lunged.
…And that was the scene that Arthur Weasley came home to. Draco sneering as Ginny, with a hold on Ron’s shirt, just barely stopped him from pummeling their new guest. Oh, Lord.
“RON!”
Ron let his hands fall, looking guiltily at his dad. His face was still tinged with several shades of violet.
Arthur put on his sternest face, the one he usually reserved for special occasions. He figured this was pretty…special. “Ron, Mal- I mean, Draco, is a guest in our house, along with Mrs. Malfoy. I want you to treat them with the utmost respect. And that means no pummeling!”
Ron scowled, and Ginny finally let his shirt go. Mr. Weasley nodded in approval and continued, “That's better. Now, I want you to show Draco to Fred and George’s old room. I’ll send his trunks up later. And Ginny, your mother needs help cleaning the kitchen.”
The three looked at Arthur with identically horrified expressions. It would’ve been almost comical if the entire situation weren’t so grim. Ron and Ginny stood around for a moment, unwilling to do their respected tasks. Finally Ginny set off for the kitchen (though not without plenty of grumbling), and Ron reluctantly started up the stairs, Draco trailing behind.
This is going to be the worst bloody summer ever, the three thought simultaneously.
Who knew they could be so right and yet so wrong?
_____________________
Harry Potter was mad. No, Harry Potter was furious. Harry Potter was so sodding angry that he was thinking about himself in the third person. He picked up an inkbottle and threw it across the room, making sure he made plenty of noise. Harry smiled in satisfaction as he heard Uncle Vernon yelling at him from the stairs.
It had all began the moment he had come from Hogwarts. He had not forgotten his conversation with Ron and Hermione, and still fully intended to look for the remaining Horcruxes. In fact, the moment he had come home, he had tried to take his trunk and set off. But Aunt Petunia was having none of it. It seemed the Dursley’s all remembered Dumbledore’s visit quite well, and did not want to chance another wizard coming and using that 'stick of doom', as they now referred to wands. Harry tried to tell her that Dumbledore was quite, quite dead, but as usual, no one believed him.
They never listened! None of them! For upon learning this news, Harry had owled Ron, begging to be rescued. Molly Weasley had replied… with a Howler. The actual message had consisted of, “Don’t you dare…too young…get yourself killed…blah blah blah blah.” Or something of that sort.
The nerve of that woman! He appreciated her, but when would she stop trying to be a mother figure to him? She wasn’t his mother, and the sooner she realized it, the better. For everyone. Harry personally thought if he stayed inside this house for one more minute he would implode. Much like when you leave a bottle of butterbeer out in the sun, except messier. Much, much messier.
Harry was seriously considering just walking right out, despite the Dursley’s protests, when he saw the headline of the Daily Prophet. That was the last straw- he stopped considering it; Harry grabbed his trunk, latched it onto his broom, and took off into the sunset.
_____________________
“I refuse! I absolutely refuse to live in that filthy junkyard. I’m going to the Parkinson’s,” huffed Narcissa, eyes flashing, everything about her stance just daring someone to stop her.
Which Remus Lupin promptly did.
“I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter, Mrs. Malfoy. You either come with us peacefully, or we bind you and force you to come with us peacefully.”
Narcissa snarled, “I’d rather die!”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that was in my list of options,” Lupin said deploringly. He beckoned to the two burly Aurors who were standing by, and half a second later Narcissa Malfoy slumped to the floor, unconscious. “That’s better,” said Remus. He scooped up the slender blonde woman and Disapparated. Filthy junkyard, here we come.
The tension in the Burrow was already stifling. Draco had made a rather rude remark about Molly and her cooking; something about how cows were generally cooked, not the one’s cooking. Suffice to say, more than one person was on the edge of their leash when they heard the “pop!” usually associated with Apparition.
Ron gave an ecstatic whoop as he saw who it was. “Finally! Someone worth knowing! Professor, could you please tell us why we have a sudden ferret infestation? Mum and Dad are being all secretive with us, and it’s bloody annoying.”
”Language, Ronald!” scolded Mrs. Weasley. Ron ignored her, instead looking at Lupin expectantly.
Remus was about to answer when he was cut off by Draco’s angry growl, “What the hell have you done to my mother?” He was glaring at Lupin, his hand clenched around his dinner fork as though it were a weapon.
”Oh, that’s your mother? I thought it was a pig,” said Ron, looking quite pleased with himself for thinking of such a clever taunt.
Draco flung the fork at him. It missed, fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it.
“Would you shut UP already? Honestly, the pair of you are acting like complete ninnies, and I really want to hear Professor Lupin’s story,” snapped Ginny, speaking up for the first time since dinner began. “It could be something interesting.”
Draco smirked, "It involves me, Weasley. Of course it's going to be interesting."
She rolled her eyes.
Remus smiled at the petite redhead, “Thank you, Ginny. It is rather...interesting. I know you don’t have the Prophet delivered any longer, so I’ll start from the beginning. After Harry told us about Draco’s predicament involving the safety of his family, we had a few of our own planted among Malfoy Manor. They were there to watch and alert us about anything even remotely suspicious. A few days ago, we received an urgent call from said agents, warning us of an attack on Malfoy Manor. We managed to get Mrs. Malfoy and Draco away before these Death Eaters attac-”
“But why would they attack the Malfoys? They’re on the Other Side!” interrupted Ron.
“They were angry that Draco had failed to kill Dumbledore last year. Anyways, we managed to get the Malfoys away from the attack, but we had no idea where to put them. Headquarters was, obviously, out of the question, and we were seriously considering sending them to a Muggle establishment when Arthur here volunteered his own home,” finished Lupin.
Sensing the glares upon him, Arthur stood up and clapped his hands, “Right, kids. Well, story time is over! Off to sleepy land you go!”
All three turned around and went quietly, with the exception of Draco, who could be heard muttering, “Sleepy land…honestly…”
The voices from downstairs slowly disappeared as he climbed toward his (or rather, Fred and George's) room. He simply stood and glared at his bedroom door, as though it were its fault for everything, before opening it and stepping inside. For a moment, Draco actually thought he was dying. Then he realized that the tears in his eyes and the stench in his nose was due to yet another Weasley prank.
“Spoiled Squash of Suffering?” Draco read aloud off of the side. “Ugh, sick!” In a panic, Draco attempted to incinerate the bruised yellow vegetable with his wand, but the stench only grew worse. Suddenly the door flew open, a mass of red hair flew by, and Draco stared as the youngest Weasley scooped up the offending squash with practiced ease and tossed it out the window.
“What the hell was that? I'm afraid I don't have any spare Knuts on me, so your efforts were pretty much useless, Weasley," sneered Malfoy, trying to cover up his momentary fright.
Ginny shrugged, “With brothers like Fred and George, you learn to take the pranks as they come. I remember this one well- they tried it out on Micheal after we broke up...his face was blotchy for two whole days before Madam Pomfrey got the swelling down. And don’t flatter yourself; I don't want your money. Knowing you, you probably nicked it," she said scornfully. "The only reason I helped was because I didn’t want to have to fan the whole house in the morning. Now close your mouth and go to sleep, Malfoy.”
And with another toss of those brilliantly crimson curls, she was gone. Leaving Draco with his head buzzing full of thoughts about…well, the point is there was some activity actually going on in there. Which was unusual enough in itself.
_____________________
Authors Note:
Yes, I did edit it a bit. I got some healthy constructive criticism, and I just really wanted to improve it. The critic was right, it was quite rushed. So I went back and painstakingly edited tiny little details. Hope you enjoyed! Anyways, next chapter, find out Narcissa’s reaction to being Stunned, and where Harry went. Thanks LOADS to all the reviewers!
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