Fowl Play

“What’s that?” Ginny asked in a sing song-y voice of her youngest son. She was pointing to a picture in the large children’s book on the floor before them.

“Sey Sey!” Gareth squealed excitedly, bouncing up and down in her lap.

“No, no, pumpkin, that is a frog,” she corrected gently. “Can you say frog?”

“Frog,” he parroted.

“And what does a frog say?”

“Ribbit! Ribbit!”

“Very good!” She turned the page after hugging and kissing the little red haired boy. Gareth loved to cuddle. “And what’s this?”

“A dwaken!” He leapt up from her lap to run circles around her and his older brother, flapping his arms wildly as if he was in flight while screaming at the top of his lungs, “Raawwrr! Raawwrr!”

She grabbed him when he got close to her again, smothering him in hugs and kisses as he squealed and giggled and writhed in her arms. “Care to join us, Liam?” she panted after a few moments. The kids always loved a good bout of rolling about on the thick shaggy carpet in the game room.

“No,” he drawled, never looking up from his task. He’d recently become obsessed with a dragon coloring book that his Uncle Charlie had given him. Every time he’d finished a picture, he and his Da would spend hours after dinner carefully cutting out and animating it so it’d fly around the room, roaring and breathing paper fire. “I’m working.”

She regarded her oldest child thoughtfully for a moment. He was more like his father than she cared to admit, which unfortunately made her forgive him immediately for almost any transgressions he might commit. One look from those little grey eyes of his and she melted instantly. It was hard to stay angry with a little boy as adorable as Liam.

Not that Gareth didn’t get away with his fair share of things either it was just that he so rarely got into trouble. He was her ‘good’ baby - always full of smiles and giggles. Hardly anything fazed him, which was probably good, all things considered. What she thought was most adorable about him was how much he loved his big brother, following him around like a little puppy and hanging on his every word.

She spent the remainder of the afternoon going over the various animals in the book, coming back to the duck from time to time. Gareth refused to believe the cute little yellow bird in the picture was called a duck.

“What’s this called again?” she prodded, trying not to allow her frustration to creep into her voice. He had no trouble with any of the animals - cats, dogs, pigs, cows, frogs, rabbits, dragons - but the duck, he just refused to believe it was called a duck!

“Gustav,” Gareth insisted. Liam snorted softly, never looking up from his coloring.

“No, no, pumpkin, this is a duck. Can you say duck,?”

“Gustav! Quack, quack, quack, quack!”


He left the safety of her lap to venture over to his brother, daring to pick up Liam’s most prized possession. “Gustav!” he exclaimed, shaking the stuffed yellow duck at her. “Gustav!”

Ginny sucked in slow, deep breath. “Yes, that’s Gustav, but what did we feed when we went down to the lake this morning?”


“We fed the ducks, Gareth, ducks.”

“Quackquackquackquack,” he started chanting as he ran around the room with Gustav in hand, earning him the glare of death from his brother.

“Give him back!” Liam demanded, abandoning his coloring book to reclaim Gustav. After a few moments of fruitless circling of the game room, he stopped dead in his tracks and squeezed his eyes shut. Gustav zoomed across the room from behind the dark green leather armchair and straight into his outstretched hand. He then shot his mother a smug look as he hugged the stuffed animal protectively.

“Liam!” Ginny exclaimed. “How long have you been able to do that?” She was startled. It had been his first sign of magic when he was a baby, summoning Gustav when he was distressed, so she shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that he could now do it at will. Draco would be so proud.

He settled down carefully in front of his artwork, Gustav fisted tightly in one hand, while pointedly ignoring the increasing wails of his little brother. “’Ever.”

Gareth toddled out from behind the chair to see refuge in his mother’s arms. He accepted the offered Seymour before burying his face in her robes to cry his eyes out and mumble about Gustav. She rocked him, whispering sweet nothings to him until he had quieted down enough to almost fall asleep.

Liam heard it before anyone else, jumping up at the sound of his father Apparating home from work and racing to greet him at the door. Ginny struggled to her feet, trying not to rouse the now quiet baby, only to have to wait her turn to greet her husband.

“How was your day,” Draco asked after putting Liam down and soundly kissing his wife.

“You don’t want to know.” She kissed him again for good measure. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he replied honestly, reaching for Gareth. “And just how’s my baby monster?”

The little red haired boy regarded him a moment before give him a sloppy kiss. “Duck!”

Draco’s face fell suddenly. “Duck?”

Ginny sighed. “We’ve had a spot trouble with the difference between Gustav and duck today.”

“Duck, duck, duck, duck,” Gareth repeated, over and over, punctuating each one with a kiss.

“Please explain to me why my son’s calling me duck.”

“I don’t know,” she frowned, and patted her husband’s chest. “Gareth, who’s this?”

The little boy beamed like a morning ray of sunshine. “Duck!”

“Liam,” she called desperately, “who is this?”

The little blond boy looked up at her with the most mischievous grin she’d ever seen. “Duck.”

“How could this happen?” Draco asked, his face turning redder by the second. She knew he hated ducks, Gustav in particular, more than anything in the world.

“Gareth’s tired. He’s probably a little confused,” she tried to placate her irate husband. “We went over so many animals today.” She thought she heard him mutter something about a dark lord ducks under his breath just then. “You know how children are. It’ll blow over.”

The only problem was it didn’t blow over like Ginny predicted.

Two weeks later, Gareth was still insisting that his father was Duck much to his dismay. Draco had made her swear not to tell another living soul. He’d even made them skip a Sunday brunch (and he really loved brunch) at the Burrow by feigning illness because he was too mortified someone (namely the twins) would find out.

And now it was Charlie’s birthday, complete with a Sunday afternoon picnic with the full family in attendance. There was no way they could get out of this one. Liam had been sent off to spend all day Saturday with Auntie Pansy while Draco and Ginny tried to break Gareth’s habit of calling his father Duck. He’d been put to bed that evening tiredly mumbling about his Da. The mission had been accomplished.

“Now,” Draco addressed his children after Apparating to the front porch of the Burrow, “do not accept any candy from your uncles or cousins, do you hear me?”

Liam nodded solemnly. Having been on the receiving end of one too many canary creams, accepting candy from his twin uncles was something he was not very likely to do. Gareth, on the other hand, brightened considerably at the mention of the word candy.

“I don’t think you have to worry,” Ginny said, “Mum would murder Fred and George.”

He gave her a pointed look. “And when did that threat ever stop them?”

“I think you worry too much.”

“Are you sure I can’t memory charm him?” Draco asked hopefully.

“You do want to continue to sleep with me don’t you?” she warned.

“A mild silencing charm then?”

“The answer is still no. I don’t see what the big deal is anyway! I think it’s adorable.” She showered her youngest in kisses and made a fuss over him while the oldest one made retching sounds.

Draco automatically covered Liam’s mouth with his hand to keep him from getting into trouble. “Of course you do, you’re not the one being called a duck!”

“Duck!” Gareth squealed while reaching for his father.

Ginny giggled. “See what you’ve done now!”

“It’s not funny,” he huffed.

“Duckduckduckduck,” the red haired baby insisted, pulling on his father’s robes.

Da,” he stated firmly. “I’m your Da.”




“Stop being so silly and come here,” she demanded, standing on her tiptoes so she could press a soft kiss against his mouth. “There’ll be more of that if you behave yourself.”

He sighed in defeat and muttered something about ducks under his breath that she couldn’t quite make out. “I’ll behave.”

“Good,” she said, taking his hand. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

They made their way inside the Burrow, greeting her various family members as they came upon them. Liam immediately broke away to show his Uncle Charlie his menagerie of paper dragons that had been reanimated just before they’d left Agecroft Hall. Gareth was so excited to see his Grandmum that he totally forgot about his father and ducks. Once unencumbered by her own children, Ginny attached herself to the youngest member of the clan, Lissanne Potter, while Draco went to change into his Quidditch gear.

She’d been good, although it had been difficult and she’d been tempted many times. Gareth was just the cutest little thing ever and she had wanted to share that with her family. Only her love for Draco had kept her from saying a word. He still had a stubborn streak of Malfoy pride in him that did not allow him to take jokes at his expense lightly. His pride combined with the twins’ penchant for mischief often resulted in a volatile mix.

Everything seemed normal, just another family gathering at the Burrow. Her brothers were rowdy, her sister-in-laws chatty and there were children everywhere and there was not a single duck anywhere in sight. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Gustav, the little yellow duck, was helping Liam show off his dragon collection, but the stuffed animal really didn’t count seeing as he was a member of Clan Malfoy. Draco would be happy, no one knew his dirty little secret.

Ginny’s heart fluttered at the sight of him striding into the sitting room in his light grey britches, high black leather shin guards and black Falcons jumper. There was something about a man, especially her man, dressed in Quidditch gear that just did it for her. She admired how the snug britches defined the hard muscles of his thighs and other assets. A very smug smile of satisfaction curled the corners of her mouth.

“A Knut for your thoughts,” he said in a low sultry voice before bracing himself on the arms of her chair and leaning in for a kiss.

“I was just wondering if Mum would keep the boys tonight.”

“Whatever for, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“I thought maybe we could play a little one on one Quidditch.” She sat up to place soft kisses along his jaw.

“I’m positive a private lesson could be arranged.”

“Who says I need a private lesson?”

He swallowed a groan. “There are no words to describe how much I love it when you’re being naughty.”

Ginny giggled. “You can always show me since words seem to be failing you.”

“All right, old chap,” Fred, no George said, patting Draco on the back. “Enough of that before I end up witnessing something I’m not old enough to see.”

“You’re older than we are!” Ginny huffed.

“You’re my sister therefore I’ll never be old enough!”

Draco drew himself up to his full height. “And she’s my wife.”

“How do you think we got Liam and Gareth?” she taunted. “We didn’t just transfigure them out of stone, you know.”

George covered his ears with his hands. “Stop or you’ll ruin my illusion!”

“Yes, all of you’d do well to remember there are children here,” Ron chimed in from the other room in an attempt to stop the posturing before it started.

“I just want to kick Malfoy’s arse in Quidditch, now c’mon!” Fred yelled from the porch.

Draco leaned in once more for a leisurely kiss. “Wish me luck?”

“Luck,” she said a little breathlessly.

He kissed her one last time before walking away with the awaiting George. It was all Ginny could do to stifle her snicker before panic set in upon seeing the name on the back of Draco’s jumper had been changed to read ‘Quackers’. There was no telling how brassed off he’d be when he made that discovery. She wondered which brother was going to die first.

“Quackers,” Pansy snickered as she sauntered into sitting room with her nearly asleep daughter, Sabine, in her arms. “He’s so not going to like that.”

Ginny eyed her friend suspiciously. “I’d like to know how my brothers found out.”

The dark haired witch grinned wickedly. “I knew when Liam told me about Gareth calling his Da Duck, it was simply too good to keep to myself.”

“He’s going to kill you nine different ways, you know.”

“Like I’m afraid of Draco Malfoy,” she laughed.

The Quidditch match was going full force when she arrived at the pitch after helping her Mum set the table and putting Liam and Gareth down for a nap. No one was dead so he obviously hadn’t noticed yet.

Draco and Harry were attempting to knock each other off their brooms as she settled down on a blue knitted blanket to watch the rest of the action. It wasn’t long before they both had spotted the Golden Snitch fluttering high over their heads in the bright afternoon sunlight and went flying after it at breakneck speed, elbowing and kicking all the while. Her heart lodged in her throat as Draco broke away, diving straight down at the ground. He showed no sight of backing off as he determinedly reached for the elusive Snitch. This was the part she always hated the most no matter how exciting it was for everyone else.

Harry was honing in on the Snitch at a low angle from across the pitch. He was on a direct collision course with the diving Draco and she knew they would both rather die than give way to the other. She squeezed her eyes shut unable to watch just as they were about to cross paths. The sickening thud of bodies and brooms crashing into the grassy pitch that she always dreaded never came only a very loud “Take that Potter!” and her brothers cursing.

“I hear you’re my biggest fan,” Draco said smugly, looming over her after lauding his victory over Harry for a few moments.

“Shhh! don’t tell my husband that,” she giggled. “He’d be very jealous.”

“The jealous type is he?”

“You have no idea.”

“Would you care to take a walk with me then? Get away from prying eyes.”

“I’d love to.” She took his proffered hand, allowing him to help her up from the ground and then lead her down an overgrown path through a thicket to a small clearing where she used to play as a little girl.

Ginny was just about to ask him what he thought he was doing when he asked, “Where are the boys?”

“They’re in the house taking a nap.”

Draco made a low noise as he pulled her flush against his long body. “So tell me, what is a beautiful witch like you doing all alone?”

“I’m a Quidditch widow, I fear,” she breathed, thoroughly distracted by how close his mouth was to hers. Her robe hit the ground.

“What a pity,” he said sympathetically, “your husband should be crucioed.” She just nodded in agreement. “Do you think he’d mind if I kissed you?”

“Yes,” she managed to mumble, “but I wouldn’t.”

She sighed in relief as his mouth descended upon hers for a soft kiss. His hands slipped down to her hips to hold her in place as the kiss deepened, and he nipped at her bottom lip begging for entrance to her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her head lolled back and her knees became weak. A soft moan escaped her lips.

His nimble fingers found the zipper to her chocolate brown suede skirt. “Do you think he’d mind if I did this?” he asked huskily as he slowly pulled.

“Draco,” Ginny protested weakly, trying to push his hands away. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” He pressed a hot kiss just beneath her ear that very nearly undid her.

“Because,” she started, but gave up as more words refused to come to mind.

The skirt was being guided over her hips to fall to heavily at her feet. She could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against her hip every time he moved as hot desire pooled in her belly. His hands were tugging up on the hem of her soft cream angora jumper.

Ron’s loud voice from just the other side of the thicket stilled her frantic hands on the waistband of his britches. “We can’t do this,” she whispered, her body trembling.

He ignored her protests, sliding down to kneel before her, his mouth worshipping the soft skin of her thighs. The combination of crisp fall air and his hot breath were wreaking havoc on her better judgment. Her fingers threaded through the fine strands of his pale hair as strangled moan caught in her throat.

“Here,” he said, unzipping her knee high boots and tossing each one to the side when she stepped out of them. Once that task was completed, he hooked his fingers in the silk of her knickers and tugged her down to the grass.

“Draco,” she begged, but allowed him to carefully place her on her discarded robe. He tossed her knickers over his shoulder before kissing his way up from her hip, over her stomach, stopping to lavish attention to her silk and lace covered breasts after finally divesting her of the offending jumper. Ginny felt like a goddess being worshipped among the grass and fall leaves. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning loudly when his mouth tugged firmly upon one nipple. He sat back on his haunches, pulling his jumper over his head and finished unbuttoning his britches.

“Here, let me help,” Ginny purred, pushing the heavy material and his silk boxers down over his hips. She lightly sucked at the tender spot on his neck as she took his erection firmly in hand, slowly stroking him.

“Evil wench,” he groaned, pushing her down on the soft ground and settling between her thighs. “No time.”

She could feel him nudging at her entrance, her hips pushing up to welcome him, but she stiffened as the sound of her mother’s voice drifted over from the garden. “Draco, someone might hear us!”

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet,” he hissed as he slid slowly into her wet heat.

She cried out softly at the welcomed invasion, her legs instinctively coming up to wrap around his hips to pull him in even deeper. Her nails dug into his strong shoulders as he began to move, slowly at first, but quickly picking up the pace, his mouth roughly ravishing her neck and shoulder. The desire that had earlier pooled in the pit of her stomach had quickly become a raging fire that only Draco could extinguish. Her breath was coming in ragged pants as she desperately tried to keep quiet. The heady notion of being naughty with her family so near mingled with the fear of being caught was enough to send her flying hard over the edge. She bit his shoulder to keep from screaming her release as her walls clinched hard around his cock, as hot wave after wave of pleasure swept through her body. He followed quickly with his own release, a heavy groan muffled in the crook of her shoulder.

“I’m so glad I’m your husband,” he managed after rolling on his back and regaining his composure.

Ginny curled her body against his, her soft curves fitting just so with the hard planes of his form. She wasn’t quite ready to rejoin her family. “Me, too.”

“I don’t think anything could possibly ruin my good mood,” Draco said as they slowly made their way back to the Burrow after making themselves somewhat presentable. “I beat Potter to the Snitch and I have the most gorgeous wife in the world.”

“Gin Gin, is that leaves in your hair?” Fred questioned, picking out the offending plant life from his baby sister’s messy hair.

“Yeah, Gin, where have you been?” Ron demanded. “We’re starving!”

George’s eyes grew wide as he began to mutter, “Transfigured from stone, transfigured from stone.”

“Yes, Draco,” Pansy drawled. “Just where have you been?”

“Never you four mind where they’ve been,” Molly stated firmly, leave no room for argument. She hadn’t even looked up from putting food on the table. “If it gets me another grandchild, then I don’t care!”

There was a loud chorus of “MUM!” before everyone glanced away. Ginny’s cheeks flamed scarlet before she could bury her face in husband’s jumper. She totally missed the not-so-innocent smug smile Draco shot at her family as he wrapped his arms protectively around her and kissed the top of her head.

“Yes,” he drawled in his most arrogant tone of voice, carefully picking out a shortbread cookie topped with a chocolate drop off the desert table. “Never you mind.”

She took a deep breath to settle herself. She didn’t know what was more appalling - that her brothers figured out what she’d just been doing or the fact that her mother also knew and condoned, no, approved of her actions. Of course, there was something in it for her - the possibility of another grandchild. And Merlin only knew as far as Molly Weasley was concerned it was the more the merrier.

“Draco dear, don’t eat that. It’ll ruin your dinner,” Molly chided.

“It’s won’t ruin my dinner. I’m quite famished - worked up quite an appetite this afternoon.”

Ginny turned pink again and slapped his arm. “Just stop!”

“What?” he asked innocently, poised to pop the shortbread in his mouth.

Fred and George’s snickering alerted her to the fact that something was not right, but before she could stop Draco from eating the cookie, her youngest child appeared from around the corner of the house with Sabine, Noah and Uncle Charlie in tow who announced, “Look who all’s awake!”

“Duck!” the youngest Malfoy screamed at the top of his lungs upon spotting his father.

A stricken look of panic crossed her husband’s face as he suddenly stopped chewing the cookie he’d just put in his mouth, but there was a loud *pop* before he could spit it out. All of them - Ginny, Molly, Fred, George, Pansy, Ron, Charlie, Sabine, Noah - just stood there staring the large white duck that used to be Draco Malfoy.

Gareth’s eyes grew as round as saucers as the duck shook its head and began to quack. “Gustav!” he said excitedly, trying to capture the duck in a hug. “I love Gustavies!”

“What did you do?” Ginny asked angrily as she repeatedly tried to hit the twins, but was distracted by a loud shriek.

Pansy was being chased around the table by a very angry Draco the duck, who was quacking, flapping his wings furiously and trying hard to peck her, with a little red haired boy giggling madly and running behind trying to catch them. Ron received a hard peck to the forehead for all his efforts in trying to quell the angry duck that had next turned his sights on the twins.

The porch was lined with family members that were drawn out by the commotion in the back garden and those that came up from the Quidditch pitch stood off to the side, well out of the way. The numerous Weasley grandchildren joined Gareth in chasing Draco the duck around the garden.

Ginny didn’t want to know what would happen to her brothers once the Limited Edition Duckie Drops (Extra Long Lasting for More Fun) wore off. Draco was madder than a hatter. And Mum, well, she couldn’t remember ever seeing her Mum’s ears that red. She knew that her Mum had a special place in her heart for Draco, and she was always after the twins and Ron to be nice to him.

Molly had taken the two wayward chicks that were Draco and Pansy under her wing after the final battle because both of them had lost their families. After much resistance, Molly’s mother henning won them over and they simply became part of the patchwork fabric that made up the Weasley clan.

“Mum?” Pansy asked almost timidly, testing the waters. Ginny knew that there was only one person on the face the Earth that she feared and that was Molly Weasley. “You might want to do away with these Quacker Crackers too.”

“No less than they deserve,” Molly muttered, making the offending cookies disappear with a flick of her wand as her twin sons ran around the garden with an angry duck in hot pursuit. “If he doesn’t murder them, then I will.”

Liam sauntered up to Ginny and tugged on her hand so she’d pick him up. He watched the chaos, from his safe vantage point, looking perplexed. “Mummy, I thought Da was a ferret.”


Everything belongs to the lovely JKR.
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