"To Be or Not To Be a Weasley"
Chapter 2: Guests of Honor
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"Favorite color?"
"Black."
"Alright, then, yellow it is…erm…What's your sign?"
"The Grim."
"Ah, you've been talking to Harry, I see? I'll just put Scorpio. Merlin knows you're temperamental enough lately…"
Passive grunt.
"Sunrise or sunset?"
"Do you think Mum would be upset if she found Fred and George hanging from the roof in their unmentionables and covered in enough foliage to attract a whole mess of Bowtruckles-hmm…maybe I could charm them into gouging out their eyeballs...?"
"Ginny Weasely!" Hermione snapped the magazine she was holding in her hands shut and sighed dramatically. The minute she'd gotten word of what had transpired on what was only being referred to as 'That Night' (so as to not risk certain mauling or ear-splitting tirades from the youngest Weasley) via Hedwig, Hermione had floo-ed straight from her bedroom in London to The Burrow, having just finished unpacking from her stay in Europe.
Ginny had flung her into her bedroom without small talk and Hermione listened tentatively as the whole ordain was described and in some cases reenacted, as Ginny tended to make strangling motions with her hands and beat whatever was available (pillows, stuffed animals, air...etc.) whenever she got the part about tackling Fred to the ground.
That had been two days ago and many, many failed attempts to distract her distressed friend, and Hermione was running out quizzes in the plethora of Teen Witch magazines pooled in a small hill on Ginny's bedroom floor.
Hermione scowled at Ginny's latest crude comment on the twins and sighed deeply. Ginny merely scoffed at the older girl's reprimand and glared at the ceiling.
"Must you mention that name? That awful, dreadful thing that cursed me into having all brothers and no sisters? Hey, Hermione...do you think your parents would be open to adopting another witch?" Her eyes lit up, "Pleeeeaase! I'm house-trained and everything!" Unlike my vile, date-ruining, and bloody asinine brothers. She growled low again.
The minute they arrived at Hogwarts and were allowed to use magic, she'd be sending mum a lovely package containing the left-over body parts of her ickle Ronnykins; though she'd have to skiv off class one day and find her way into Diagon Alley in order to get the twins with a good hex or two...
"Ginny..." Hermione warned, reading the dangerous expression falling over Ginny's face. She'd seen it many times since she'd been there, and it could only result in many, many years in Azkaban and more funeral services than she had black robes for.
Ginny merely scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Leave me here to rot, then."
Hermione reached over the patted the girl's fiery head gently, "That's the spirit, then, Gin!" She recoiled her hand at the death glare she received.
"All I'm asking, Ginny, is that you try to view it from Ron, Fred, and George's perspectives. They're only being protective of you."
Wrong answer.
"Urghh! I can't believe you!" Ginny hurled herself under a heap of blankets, "If you're only here to agree with them, then I must ask you to promptly remove yourself from my room and SOD OFF WITH THE REST OF THEM."
Hermione's brown orbs rolled far back in her head and swiveled forward to glance at the clock on the wall. Mrs. Weasley had installed an enchanted clock like the one in her kitchen in every room of the house, and Hermione's eyes narrowed at a certain spoon, the one labeled 'Ron Weasely' and pointing at 'Eavesdropping and in danger of certain punishment'.
"Figures," She mumbled and hopped off of Ginny's bed, raising her voice substantially, "I'm going to the BATHROOM, Gin, right out in the HALLWAY. I'm assuming you'll still be here when I get back?"
"..."
"Alright, then." She made sure Ginny's head was still secured under her pillow and carefully opened the door. Red-faced and sheepish, Ron was leaning against the wall beside Ginny's door, trying to look natural while fiddling with a chocolate frog card that looked as if it had been lying on the ground for some time. He came to attention when Hermione stepped out of Ginny's room and closed the door behind her, stuffing the card into his pocket and running a hand through his mop of red hair.
"Ahem. Hullo, Hermione! Lovely day, isn't it?"
Hermione gave him an unreadable glance and motioned towards Ron's bedroom, a few doors down the hall where they couldn't be overheard.
Once inside, Ron forgot all pretenses and grabbed her hands, shaking them, "Tell me, Herm, how long do I have before she kills me? Should I run now or do you think I can take her? I mean, you should have seen her on Fred; she's got one hell of a right-hook, that one. Will you take Pig if I don't make it?" He'd said it all in a rush, but more from the fact that he realized whose hands he was holding and somehow thought that speaking at ungodly speeds would ease the growing flush appearing underneath his freckles.
Hermione politely waited for him to finish before speaking. "Right. Are you quite finished now?" Ron sheepishly nodded and uncoiled his hands from around hers; a devilish thought began to bubble in Hermione's head.
"Have you ever watched British Football, Ron?" He shook his head. She leaned in closer as if about to reveal confidential information.
"Well, you might want to take a leaf out of their books and invest in a handy Muggle invention called the 'cup.'
Ron looked pleasantly puzzled, "You mean...to drink out of?" Hermione shook her head at his thick-ness and grinned sneakily, looking suggestively at Ron's lower half.
"Not exactly. More of a means of protecting certain-erm-vital organs you might have grown rather fond of." She smirked as a look of horror fell across his face and he gulped.
"C-cup, did you say? Right...thanks, Hermione!" He turned quickly on his heel and sped off for the kitchen, where he would undoubtedly find Harry and beg him for ways to acquire such a thing.
Hermione grinned. That was for you, Gin.
Later that evening, as the coaxing smells of a Weasley supper wafted into Ginny's bedroom, Hermione was able to finally drag her out of her bed and threw her into the bathroom rather roughly, demanding that she emerge only after she'd showered, dressed, and quit moping.
Ginny glared at her reflection in the mirror for a few minutes before grudgingly turning on the shower and doing as she was told.
At this rate I'll never be able to go on one bloody date with one bloody boy because I have three BLOODY BROTHERS to bloody ruin it all for me! "BLOODY HELL!" She had slipped on a puddle on the floor from when she'd stepped out of the shower and fell ungracefully onto her backside. Groaning, she gripped the edge of the sink and stood.
"Alright in there, Gin?" Harry's voice permeated through the door and she scowled. She'd forgotten about him being there. Oh, well. She'd been over him for a grand total of 15 months and counting, but he still had a tendency to make her stomach do a semi-flip every time she looked him directly in the eye. Damn all men, she thought.
"Yes, I'm fine!" She yelled and slid into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt; rivulets of icy water slung around the bathroom from her hair and she absentmindedly imagined one of her brothers slipping in a puddle and breaking one, or two or even three limbs in the process. Aw, wishful thinking, again, Gin. They'd only sprain an ankle at the most...but if I accidentally spilled some shampoo, as well...that might do the--
"Ginny! Your mum's calling us for dinner! Are you all finished?" Hermione knocked softly on the door.
Ginny took a moment to revel in her last thought and wound her hair into a loose bun before joining Hermione in the hallway looking significantly refreshed and feeling much better.
"All done!" She announced with a grin and led the way downstairs...
...where they promptly entered the twilight zone. Ron was standing with his back to her, hands clenched at his sides and glaring at something or someone directly in front of him. Mrs. Weasley 'tutted' into the kitchen and shoved him away, giving Ginny a half-view of black robes and a pale hand.
"Ronald! That's no way to treat a guest. Now, sit, there's a good lad, and be kind to Mr. Draco and his mother."
Ron slumped into his seat, never taking his eyes off of Draco Malfoy, Enemy #1 and Prince of Slytherin, and a slew of other titles that Ginny had heard Harry and Ron call him but didn't dare repeat.
"Malfoy?!" She and Hermione had hissed the name at the same time and cold grey eyes flew over to them, calculating their presence and then returning to the woman standing beside him. She was a bit shorter than her son, fragile-looking, yet with the air of regality that Ginny had only seen once before in Malfoy's father, Lucius; but he was in Azkaban now...what were his wife and son doing in THEIR house? The people Malfoy's father had most detested other than muggles?
Draco sneered at her speculating stare and looked around the kitchen with his face screwed up in disgust.
"Ah, Ginny, dear! Nice to see you've found your way downstairs finally," Mrs. Weasley gave her daughter a reproachful glance and handed her a set of silver ware for the table, "Be a good dear and help Ron and Harry set the table outside. We'll be needing more room in light of our guests," She cast a forced smile at Draco and his mother before shoo-ing then out the back door.
Ginny couldn't stop from glancing back at the boy standing her kitchen, who was about to be sitting at their table, drinking from their glasses, and eating their food. She silently wondered if hell had finally frozen over and dementors were being hired for birthday parties.
Hermione looked just as surprised as she did, and hurled her handful of forks on the table that had been set up in the back yard to get Ron and Harry's attention.
"MALF-?!" She didn't get to finish her exclamation as Harry's hand flew over her mouth. Mrs. Weasley scurried behind her, set a stack of plates down and then rushed back into the house.
"Malfoy?" Hermione stated again once Harry had taken his hand off of her mouth. "What on earth are Malfoy and his mother doing here?"
Ron looked ready to punch in the table so Harry explained quickly. "His dad's keeping the dementors company in Azkaban and the aurors are searching their home today for evidence. The Ministry didn't know what do with them, so they dumped them on Mr. Weasley until they've finished because they need someone to watch them and, well...here we are." He finished, glancing wearily at the back door as if at any moment Malfoy would come running out and flinging hexes in all directions. It had been Harry, after all, who was responsible for his father's capture, anyway.
Ginny shrugged. In all her years at Hogwarts, Malfoy had never given her much trouble. She only knew of him through Ron who spoke of him through gritted teeth if ever at all and would never tell her all the terrible things he'd say about their family because he was too furious.
"A week!" He finally said, slamming a fork and knife beside a place mat. "A week they've got to stay here! Mum might as well ship me off to Azkaban now, because if I have to spend one day in that bloody arse's presence, I'm going to-"
"Kiss my feet and thank Merlin that you are fortunate enough to be graced with my presence?" Malfoy sneered behind them, holding a stack of napkins as if they were rags and tossed them onto the table, ignoring them as they flew in all directions.
Harry had to hold Ron back. "Malfoy, I won't be able to restrain Ron for 7 days, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to ruin your hair or anything, so I suggest you shut your bloody mouth," He warned.
"Alright! Who's hungry? C'mon now, everybody tuck in!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted their exchange and ushered them all to sit. Arthur Weasley showed up behind her, leading Mrs. Malfoy, who looked like she'd never been outside in her all her life, to the table. With a POP!, Fred and George appeared in their seats, eyeing Malfoy wearily though not daring to look Ginny in the eye.
"Fred and George Weasley! I've told you not to apparate at the dinner table!" Mrs. Weasley chided, but the twins busied themselves with turkey legs and pretended they hadn't heard a thing.
It was the quietest dinner in Weasley History. Ginny felt a shiver skitter up her spine as the tension mounted upon the table with each clink of silverware or squeak of the rather rickety old table. She'd be glad when the plates were clear and she could seek refuge in her room to smolder over "That Night" in peace. She'd no clue where her mother would be sticking Malfoy, but it surely wouldn't be in her room, so she was off the hook there.
"Mum, would you pass the potatoes?" Ginny asked politely, noticing how everyone's heads snapped to attention at the momentary lapse in silence as if they were all expecting her to shout out a curse or something. She rolled her eyes mentally.
Honestly...
She accepted the potatoes from her mother and plopped a spoonful onto her plate noisily. Hermione shifted nervously beside her and continued staring at her plate, though she would glance furtively in Ron's direction every once in a while. He was seated directly across from Malfoy and the two exchanged threatening glares all throughout the meal. Ron hadn't even broken his gaze when he missed his mouth with a fork-full of meat and it landed in his lap.
"Mal-erm, I mean, Draco, would you care for some potatoes?" Ginny smiled shakily at him, expecting him to glare her into the ground or something, but when he gave a curt nod and took the dish from her hands, she sighed silently and happily devoured the rest of her food. So far, she'd been the only one to acknowledge his presence (if you exempted Harry and Ron's occasional death threat from beneath their breaths) and Mrs. Weasley gave her a slight smile.
"Lovely, weather, isn't it Narcissa?" Mrs. Weasley smiled widely at the blonde haired woman seated beside Draco, following Ginny's example. His mother glanced up from her still full plate and gazed around the yard with cold and unmistakably bored, grey eyes.
"I detest the outdoors," She finally stated plainly and continued to stare at her plate, keeping perfect posture and making sure to wipe her glass with a napkin before she took a sip. Ginny wondered if she thought they were barbarians or something. Mrs. Malfoy offered no other comment and Draco didn't even smirk.
Well, this is awkward... Ginny thought, wishing she could smack them all on the face with a cheering charm or something to shake the tension out of them. Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat casually, ignoring Narcissa's comment and fiddled with the lint on Mr. Weasley's robes.
Mrs. Malfoy would not even glance at Arthur without giving him a fleeting glare that said she'd hex him if she could, but he seemed not to notice or care as he silently ate. Ginny noted the dark shadows beneath his eyes and felt her heart twinge. She would have given anything to take over her father's job for a day and give him a break for once, but she kept her thoughts to herself and nudged Hermione.
Hermione jumped at her prodding and glanced surreptitiously at her, "Yes?"
Ginny nodded towards the house and cleared her throat, "Well, Mum, that was a lovely dinner. Hermione and I really need to finish our summer homework, though, if we want to be ready for school by next week." She didn't wait for a response and hurriedly snatched up her and Hermione's dishes to take inside.
Hermione looked offended at Ginny's implications that she hadn't finished her summer work yet. It was all neatly ironed and ready for marking in her trunk. But she followed wordlessly, giving Mrs. Weasley a small smile of apology.
A few minutes later, their dishes were magically scrubbing themselves in the sink, and Ginny had dragged Hermione into the living room. She didn't want to be holed up in room in case Ron and Malfoy got into a duel or something; that'd be too good to miss.
She giggled secretively and twirled a strand of red hair between her finger tips. "Forget hexing Ron; Draco Malfoy having to share a room with him is pay-back enough!" She chuckled deviously, "Imagine! What if he snores worse than Ron? Oh, it'd be perfect!" She gave into her giggles and crouched over, clutching her stomach in glee, "Oh, I hope he leaves the cap off of the toothpaste--George'll go mental!"
Hermione gazed at the laughing girl wearily and ignored the twinge she felt at the corners of her mouth.
"Ginny, you ought to be careful around Malfoy. He's got a bone to pick with your dad and Harry, and if he tries anything while he's here it could be terrible for everyone. Did you see the looks he shot at your dad through dinner? I wouldn't be surprised if he went out and got himself the Dark Mark as soon as his dad was thrown into Azkaban," She involuntarily shivered, "He's evil enough, that's for sure."
Ginny had stopped laughing, but her face was red and tears had streaked down her cheeks, "What? And risk expulsion from Hogwarts? Malfoy can't be that daft. As for the Dark Mark, from what I hear Malfoy's scared of his own shadow when it comes to bravery; he's Slytherin," She added with a scowl. Slytherins were usually known for their 'save your own skin or die a Gryffindor' motto.
"He's mother's a real nutcase though. Did you see her muttering disinfecting spells underneath her breath before she touched anything?" She toyed with a knight piece from Ron's enchanted chess set. She set it down carefully and watched as it attacked a nearby piece and blew it to smithereens. After a second it reappeared intact in a puff of smoke.
Hermione glanced out of the window that faced the back yard.
"They're getting ready to come inside; I think Bill's arrived as well," She added.
Ginny glanced through the window and saw Bill's earring glittering in the fast approaching dusk and smiled. He was her favorite older brother (Ron's position had been revoked on "That Night"), and he would never, ever cause any of her boyfriends harm-without her direct permission that is.
"Guess your Mum thought we might need extra security in case-"
"Well if it isn't the Mudblood and her pet Weasel?" Malfoy sneered from the door way, leaning against the frame with the air of royalty.
More like a royal pain in the arse, Ginny thought casually and narrowed her eyes at his comment.
"You'd do well not to insult other guests in our home, Malfoy. You're on our territory now and outnumbered 1 to 10," She replied evenly, amazed at her daring but amused at the flash of anger that crossed Malfoy's face.
"So, the youngest Weasel can speak? Ever since that incident in 2nd year, I'd thought you'd become mute," He smiled coyly, "So, read any good books, lately, have you?" He sneered at her, and Ginny ignored the drop of cold fear the fell to the bottom of her stomach.
Hermione rose, "Shut it, Malfoy. No one needs your slimy-"
"I'd watch it, if I were you, Mudblood. How long, do you imagine, would a couple of harmless dementors be able to hold off a handful of death eaters before bad things start to happen?" His voice dropped to a subzero level, but before Hermione could comment, Ron had appeared behind Malfoy, shoving him out of his way. Malfoy stumbled but collected himself, turning on Ron with a glare that could have burned a hole through his forehead.
"What did you call her, Ferret-boy?" Ron snarled.
Malfoy folded his arms across his chest, "What's it to you Weasel? Going to try to curse me again? Let's see it then. I've heard slugs are a delicacy in France."
"Ah, there you are boys! Right then, who's up for a game of quidditch before bed?" Bill bound into the room, an infectious grin plastered across his face, and he headed for Ginny who squealed and gave him a hug.
"Bill! I thought you were still in Egypt!" She scrunched her nose as he rumpled her hair.
"Thought I'd drop in for a visit before you went off to school," He turned back to Ron and Malfoy who were still staring at each other as if attempting to mentally rip each other apart.
"What d'ya say, Ron? Heard Mum got you a new broom last year. Think you'll be able to out-fly your big bro', eh, Mr. Gryffindor Keeper?" He grinned.
Ron's zest for competition overruled maiming Malfoy for the moment and he puffed out his chest.
"You're on, then, Bill. I'll get Harry," He sped off to the kitchen, leaving Malfoy to glare at the open space where he'd once been.
"How 'bout you, Draco? Heard you're a pretty decent seeker over at Hogwarts." Bill placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, and Draco stared at him as if he were a sack of bubotuber puss.
"Alright then," He finally stated. Ginny and Hermione unconsciously exhaled a breath of relief.
"Excellent, you ladies have fun doing whatever it is you-er-do, then!" Bill flashed another smile at them, and Ginny silently thanked him. At least he knew when to rescue her from the boys that actually annoyed her.
Hermione fell back onto the couch as soon as they left.
"I've a sickening feeling somebody's going to lose a limb tonight."
Ginny nodded solemnly for a second and instantly brightened, "Let's go watch then! This could be interesting!" She gleefully dragged Hermione out of the living room and into the back yard, where Harry was already circling the area on his Firebolt, facing Malfoy who glided skillfully on his Nimbus 2001, stating warningly that his Mum had ordered him the latest Firebolt for the new school year and Harry might want to get used to the taste of broom bristles.
Oh, yes, this would have been too good to miss, Ginny thought wistfully and took a seat beside Hermione on the grass, thoughts of a tortured Ron swimming through her head as bludgers zoomed over head, and the match commenced with a whistle from Bill.
"Let the game begin!"
Ginny smiled to herself. Yes, let the game begin indeed.
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phew! that was a LONG chapter. Dunno whether or not all of them will be like that, but this was a special case, in that I had to introduce Malfoy and all that. Hope you liked it! Review please, or I may resort to begging, and that just wouldn't be pretty at all. :)
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