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.
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.
Author notes: Thanks for all the reviews and tips on the last chapters! Keep 'em coming.
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