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A Weasley Welcome by Cheeseandgreen
The Chronicles of Weasley: the handcuffs, the bubbles, and an odd sock. by Cheeseandgreen
Title: A Weasley Welcome
Author: Sy (Cheeseandgreen)
Summary: The Weasley family sure has a great way to welcome their children’s’ loved ones.
Challenge: Issued by Carmen (giveitlove/writtenreality): Draco/Ginny please. Any genre, provided there’s a happy ending and incorporates these three things in [handcuffs, bubbles, and an odd sock].
Written for: Carmen, this is for you, chick!

.x.



George Weasley knew something that no one else knew.

He knew that today was the day that Ron was going to propose to Hermione. His dearest younger brother had informed him of this just a week ago. Not wanting to ruin the surprise, of course, George set out to fetch the ring – even though Ron had specifically told him not to. He had left his poor brother alone in the house, which probably wouldn’t be so lonely, seeing as Hermione was snuggled up in the bed beside him.

It was three hours later when George finally returned to the Burrow, ring in hand and a bouquet of flowers tucked underneath his arm. He didn’t want to return empty-handed to his wife, Alicia Spinnet, who would surely skin him alive in discovering what he had done. She loathed his idiocy and insurgent demeanor and constantly nagged him about changing. (“George, you’re ridiculous. Stop acting like a ruddy child and start cleaning the flat!”) He’d just look at her and smile. (“Love, if I was any different, the world would be ruled by Voldemort, Harry would be my husband, and you’d have never married me.”) She scowled at him and halted with her protests.

Upon entering the house, George spotted his father, jabbing his finger into Ron’s naked chest. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, stunned, at the sight of Hermione clutching a thin, white sheet around her body. Ron stood embarrassingly next to her, his freckles in plain sight.

“Ron?” he asked, dropping everything and proceeding to the living room.

He scanned the room and found himself gaping at the display before him. Ginny had just flooed in, the dust and dirt from the fireplace evident in her face. She was staring dumbly at Hermione, eyes wide and mouth agape. George’s mother, Molly, held a ladle in her hands – looking ready as ever to smack Ron over the head, like she always did when he did something daft. Fred and Bill were holding back an incensed Charlie, who struggled through the meaty bonds that were his brothers’ arms. “Let me go,” he mumbled, eyes glaring at the figure in front of him.

High and mighty, draped in a black robe, was Draco Malfoy – eyes strictly directed towards Arthur. He contrasted greatly from their worn-out living room – his black, leather shoes sinking into their torn, overused green carpet. The Malfoy Crest brooch shone glared angrily at every member in the room, mocking their poverty with haughtiness.

George finally decided to speak up. “What the bloody hell is going on here?!”

Molly shushed him – she had the nerve to shush him!

Hermione trembled uncontrollably. “Mister Weasley, sir,” she started, her voice shaking, “this isn’t what it seems. Ron and I were simply sleeping upstairs – nothing happened. Sir, I can promise you that.”

“Then, Hermione,” boomed his livid voice, “will you care to let me know why you are nude underneath that blanket!”

She bit her lip. “Sir – I – it didn’t – I couldn’t –“

“It’s not her fault, Dad,” interrupted Ron, aplomb perceptibly strengthening in him.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Are you telling me that the reason she was in our home overnight in this state is because you forced her to?” he asked, seething.

Eyes wide, Hermione shook her head vigorously. “No, Mister Weasley, it’s not like that at all! Ron didn’t force me to do anything! It was my fault as well!”

Ginny cleared her throat, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. Her grin indicated that she noticed something not quite normal. “Hermione, love,” she began, eyes glittering, “can I see your feet?”

Perplexed, Hermione asked, “What – why?”

“Just give me some incentive here,” Ginny replied.

Molly scoffed at the brazen exhibit and turned away, at last spotting the outsider in their home. “Oh, Mister Malfoy!” she recognized. “What brings you here?”

George watched as Ginny’s fašade crumbled at the sudden appearance of Malfoy. “No,” he saw her mouth.

Malfoy smirked. “I’m here to return something to your daughter, Mrs. Weasley,” he answered, his eyes trained on Ginny. “She seemed to have left it at the Manor when she departed last night,” he looked her up and down, “well, this morning to be exact.”

Molly choked.

What?!” bellowed Arthur, his attention now switching from Ron to Ginny. Both his children had obviously been busy last night and he couldn’t bother to punish them – for the images of their acts swirled around in his head. These were his children, for Circe’s sake!

Stepping ahead, Malfoy stopped in front of Ginny and leaned forward. “You should really remember what you leave behind, kitten,” he purred, the smoothness of his voice causing Ginny’s innocent face to turn scarlet. He dove into his trouser pocket and pulled out a silvery, metal item. It dangled down his hand – plain for everyone to see. Shoving it into her hands, Malfoy captured Ginny’s lips in a bruising kiss – risking both his life and hers. Ginny squeaked and gripped onto his shoulders for support.

George tore his eyes away. “What is going on here?!”

“Were those – those – those things that – he – Ginny – sleeping – handcuffs – I – Hermione – I can’t breathe,” he stuttered, cradling his forehead with his left hand. “I – what – kill – torture – he touched baby sister.”

Malfoy finally pulled away, nipping at Ginny’s swollen bottom lip before he spun around and grinned at her family. “If you all aren’t aware yet, your daughter and I are both involved in a relationship – together.” He smirked at Ron, enjoying seeing his face turn a great deal of colors.

Ginny punched Malfoy square in the back. “I can’t believe you, Draco,” she hissed, disregarding the glares she collected. “We talked about this! We were going to wait until we told your Mum!”

He spun around, again, and caught her chin in-between his fingers. “You’re dense, Ginevra Weasley. My mother learned about our,” he licked his lips and wiggled his eyebrows, “situation months ago. Her approval of you is apparent. A blind man without ears could plainly see that she adores you. Why else would we wait?”

“Oh, Lord,” whispered Molly. “Ron – you’re – you’re bubbling from the mouth!”

George muttered a string of curses before dashing to his younger brother and shaking him. “Ron, you bumbling moron, stop foaming!” he ordered, snatching the sheet from Hermione and drying his mouth.

Hermione squealed and hid behind them both, but not before giving everyone a peek at her lacy wonder bra, knickers, and pure cotton sock.

Ginny sniggered.

Bill and Fred let go of Charlie, who jetted over to Malfoy, who ducked behind Ginny, who swung her fists at Bill, who slightly missed it and hit Percy, who had just flooed in and accepted an unexpected punch in the face.

He hit the ground with a thud and opened one of his eyes. “Can someone kindly tell me why Hermione Granger is running about in her knickers and one purple sock?”

Ginny turned to Draco, just as George shoved Hermione the ring, and both said simultaneously said together, “Welcome to the family.”



.x.


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