Caught

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER ONE

THE MORNING AFTER

Harry's seventeenth birthday was celebrated at the Burrow, with a party thrown in his honor by Ron and Hermione. There were many of his friends present, and he had paid for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to spend the night at an expensive muggle hotel in London. He knew well Mr. Weasley would enjoy that very much and, in his opinion, Mrs. Weasley deserved a little luxury. The only reason the senior Weasleys felt comfortable leaving their ramshackle house in the hands of the teenagers was the presence of their oldest son, Bill.

At Molly's insistence, they returned early in the morning to inspect the damage to their rickety home, and assist in cleaning up, so their lives could return to normal as soon as possible.

Walking into the kitchen, well it would resemble a kitchen after some serious cleaning charms had been applied; they found their offspring minus Ginny, Harry and Hermione, sitting at the table.

“Oh-my-goodness just look at this mess,” Molly exclaimed.

“We were about to start cleaning up weren't we guys?” Harry said, getting unsteadily to his feet.

“You all look like you could do with a good hangover potion,” Arthur observed.

“Wouldn't go astray,” Charlie agreed with a small chuckle before placing his head in his hands to stop the throbbing.

“Where's Ginny?” Molly asked as she began to tidy around the hung-over partygoers.

“Haven't seen her this morning, she's probably still sleeping,” Ron mumbled as if it hurt to talk.

“Well, I think it's high time she was up, I'll go and give her a shove, shall I?” Arthur's voice seemed to boom through the room.

He walked up the stairs and made his way to Ginny's bedroom, opening the door quietly, so as not to startle her awake.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Smiling into his chest as her eyes fluttered open, she instantly decided on a most pleasant way to wake her boyfriend. She slid her hand down his chest, across his hard stomach, and brushed her fingertips down his hardening length.

“More? You're insatiable witch,” he said with false incredulity.

Ginny could hear the smug smirk in his tone and she slowly lifted her hand from his manhood and moved it even lower. She then allowed her finger nails to lightly dance upon his balls eliciting a throaty moan from his lips.

“Evil bint,” he grunted good-naturedly, as he drew her up to claim her mouth in a fervent kiss.

“YOU!” Arthur Weasley's voice exploded through the small room.

Draco leapt from the bed, and stood naked, gaping at the father of his young lover. Aware of just how vulnerable her was in his current state, Draco made a grab for the bed hangings, tearing them from their fastenings and wrapping a length around his lower body hurriedly.

“I'll kill you,” Arthur bellowed, lunging at the young blond wizard across the bed.

Draco moved further around the bed, to avoid the irate man. He was virtually trapped in the small room. Arthur Weasley blocked his way to the door and to his wand, which was still tucked inside his robes that were lying in a tangled pile on the floor.

Ginny gathered the blanket around her naked form as she stood on her bed.

“Dad, what are you doing in here?” she squealed.

“Ginevra, stay out of this,” Arthur growled at his only daughter, as he slowly closed in on the slime that had touched her.

He had him trapped now, there was no escape and he was going to kill the bastard with his bare hands.

Draco watched in horror as Arthur Weasley slowly made his way around his daughter's small four-poster bed. The older wizard was closing the distance between them faster than Draco felt comfortable with. He was distinctly aware that Ginny was standing on her bed whimpering at her father to leave him alone, but personally he didn't think it would have any effect on the older man.

Just as Arthur reached the end of the bed Draco saw a chance for escape. He hoped he would be able to move faster than the older man, and reach the door before he got there. If he didn't, he knew he was a dead man walking.

Arthur was only metres away from Draco now, and he could almost feel his scrawny neck between his hands. Without warning the young man leaped onto the bed, stopping only once to kiss Ginny and splutter that he loved before he was out the door. Arthur roared with rage as the blond man tore from the small room. Not wanting his quarry to escape, Arthur took off at high speed. He ran straight into Ginny, who had jumped off the bed with the blanket still wrapped around her. After physically moving her out of the way, he continued his pursuit.

Draco was moving so fast as he exited the room, he hit the wall opposite and bounced off. Not taking the time to regain his balance properly, he took off down the stairs. He was half way down when the bed hanging he was using to cover himself tangled in his feet, and he went tumbling down the remaining stairs. Landing hard, Draco took no time at all in getting to his feet. He heard an almost primal roar of rage come from upstairs, and that was enough to get his feet moving again. When he stumbled into the kitchen Draco failed to notice all the people sitting lethargically around the table, until…

“Malfoy,” Ron chuckled at his appearance, “where did you sleep?”

Draco did not pause, as he saw what he believed to be an open door on the other side of the room. Moving through the room at top speed, he slammed into the bottom half of the door and came to a dead halt just as Arthur ran into the room.

“Boys, stop him,” Arthur yelled from the staircase.

As Draco turned, he saw all of Ginny's brothers plus Harry Potter getting to their feet, oblivious to why they were being ordered to stop him, but obeying the command all the same. Not wanting to turn his back on the advancing wizards, Draco felt around behind him for a door handle. If only he could get this section of the door open quickly, he might have a chance.

“Oh gods don't hurt him,” Ginny cried from the base of the stairs.

The boys all turned to look at their sister, who was still draped in just a blanket. Draco could see the realization of what he had been caught doing hit each one of them in turn and, as they turned back towards him, their glares were deadly.

There was no time to waste, he had to get out of there now or they would tear him to pieces. Without regard for what he was about to expose, he turned towards the door, and dropped his grip on the bed hanging. He dove over the top of the door and landed heavily on the outside. A split second later he was on his feet and sprinting across the yard. By the time Draco hurdled the low wall that bordered the property all the wizards were in hot pursuit.

He could feel them gaining on him, and he knew it wouldn't be much longer before he was captured, but he'd be damned if he'd give up without a fight. A heavy hand suddenly landed between his shoulder blades, and felt himself tipping uncontrollably forwards. Sprawled on the ground, face down in a nondescript field he felt a large hand reach under his arm, and pull him roughly upwards.

Bill had been the first to catch up to the blond wizard, and as he pulled him up to standing position a myriad of ideas of just what to do with this wanker went through his mind. He knew what he would like to do, but it was his dad's right to deal with this bastard first, and if there was anything left after that, he would be given his opportunity.

Draco knew that struggling would be fruitless, but nonetheless he tried. However, as soon as he began to move, Charlie moved in to the grip his other arm.

“Where to Bill?” Charlie grunted.

“Nice tree over there,” Bill growled with a nod of his head, indicating the direction of the preferred tree.

Sweet Merlin, they're going to hang me, Draco thought as he continued to thrash.

Bill and Charlie held him against the tree as Arthur approached at a more sedate pace, his wand already drawn.

“How are we going to kill him, Dad?” Ron asked triumphantly.

“I was thinking we might see how many body parts we can remove before he gives up,” Arthur replied maliciously, waving his wand around.

Draco did not like where Arthur was pointing his wand, not at all…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH HIM?

“Puh…puh…please sir, I… I… didn't….” Draco stuttered in his terror. He could feel the cool wood of Arthur Weasley's wand brushing against his family jewels, and if the situation hadn't been so dire, he would have been mortally embarrassed.

“Don't lie to me boy,” Arthur growled in a dangerously low voice. There was no doubt in Arthur's mind what this boy had been doing, and was about to do with his baby girl.

“I… I… I'm s… sorry,” Draco stammered. He had never been this petrified in all his life.

“If you want our advice,” Fred offered.

“Best keep your mouth shut,” George continued, not making any effort to hide the amused smirk on his face.

“When he's in this mood,” Fred and George finished in unison.

“Never quite know what the old boy will do when he's this riled,” Charlie whispered in Draco's ear, eliciting a whimper of terror from the captured wizard.

“Remember the last one to touch Ginny?” Bill's comment was directed at Charlie, but he'd said it directly into Draco's other ear, and then made a show of glancing meaningfully toward a mound of earth that looked suspiciously like an unmarked grave. “Dad didn't leave any of him for us to play with,” he added sulkily.

Given this new information, Draco renewed his futile fight for freedom. It was completely pointless, of course. Bill and Charlie were not only bigger than him, but they were much stronger, and they had him firmly in their grasp. Even if he were to break free from the two baboons restraining him, there were another five young wizards eager to get their hands on his delicate body. The thought that he may very well die in this field, naked and in the company of malicious enemies, paraded across his terror stricken mind.

“Well, Dad, what we going to do to him?” Ron asked cruelly, eyeing the blond with open malice.

“Daddy, please don't hurt him,” Ginny screamed as she ran across the field. She was still naked, apart from the blanket wrapped precariously around her body.

“Gin…” Draco whimpered. It was all he could manage before one of her brothers twisted his arm hard. The pain brought tears to his eyes, and he clenched his jaw tightly to stop himself from crying out.

“Daddy, please I love him,” Ginny pleaded hysterically.

Ron's expression flickered from angry to revolted and then to astonished. “You what?”

“I love him,” Ginny repeated passionately. Her eyes flicked to each of her brothers, pleading briefly with each of them to see reason.

“Him… he's… he's… a Slytherin,” Ron spluttered.

“Ginevra, go back to the house,” Arthur commanded.

“No, Daddy,” Ginny blatantly refused, moving herself between Arthur and Draco.

“Ginny, what are you doing?” Harry asked with open surprise.

Ginny flung her arms around Draco's neck and began to sob into his bare chest. “Draco, I'm so sorry, I didn't know they would be home so soon.”

Draco could do nothing more than lay his head on hers. He tried to make soothing sounds to calm her, but his voice failed him. It tore his heart out to see her so upset, but he was helpless to alleviate her pain at the moment. In fact, he had more pressing problems of his own to worry about, and her presence was more than likely making the situation worse. Her family didn't need a constant reminder of what he'd been caught doing to fuel the fire of their outrage.

Meanwhile, there had been some muttering coming from Arthur, his sons and Harry. Bill and Charlie were being kept informed of the discussion through Fred and George, who were leaning forward every so often to whisper ideas into their ears. With Ginny sobbing so close to his ears Draco couldn't hear what they were saying. Not that he wanted to find out what their plans were right now, because he was sure he'd find out sooner than he'd rather anyway.

“Right then, we have a decision,” Arthur said triumphantly. “Harry, Ron, you two take care of Ginny. Bill and Charlie, bind his hands.”

Harry and Ron stepped forward, and pulled Ginny away from Draco. It wasn't easy to remove her, especially when they were trying to be exceptionally careful not to upset the tenuous balance of the blanket wrapped around her, but they finally succeeded.

Once Ginny was dragged clear of the blond wizard, Bill and Charlie roughly yanked him forward, and drove him unceremoniously to his knees.

Charlie glanced around the immediate vicinity for something to bind the wizard's hands with. “Dad, can you transfigure something we can use to tie him up with?”

"Of course." Arthur selected a long tree branch that had fallen from the tree recently and performed the transfiguration easily. When it was complete he passed his second son a length of thick rope.

Bill shoved Draco's face into the ground, not bothering to take any care with the blond wizard, and held him in place with a foot between his shoulder blades. Charlie wound the rope tightly around Draco's wrists, testing the binds for security, before pulling the hapless wizard to his feet.

The moment he was on his feet, Draco looked around for Ginny. She was nowhere to be seen. He was alone with five of her brothers and her father.

“Back to the house then,” Arthur ordered harshly, as he turned on his heel and led the way back to the kitchen door.

Bill and Charlie half dragged, half walked their prisoner back to the kitchen of the Burrow.

“What do you want us to do with this piece of filth?” Bill asked as they stepped over the threshold of the house. He'd really just like to rip the wizard's head off and be done with it, but his dad had a plan that promised to be far more entertaining.

“Just dump him on the floor by the fire for now, so he can be seen,” Arthur snarled.

Ron and Harry had placed Ginny in a chair at the table. Her eyes followed Draco through the room, widening in disbelief when her oldest brothers simply dropped him to the floor beside the hearth.

Arthur walked directly to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder, throwing it into the flames he yelled, “Lucius Malfoy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my live journal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER THREE

HE'S MY ONLY SON FOR MERLIN'S SAKE

Lucius' head appeared in the kitchen fireplace at the Burrow.

“Weasley,” Lucius snarled.

Arthur smiled smugly at the blond wizard. “Ah Malfoy… I have something that belongs to you.”

“What could you possibly have of mine?” Lucius replied contemptuously.

“Boys, pick up it up,” Arthur ordered.

Bill and Charlie hoisted Draco, by the armpits, paraded his naked form in front of the fire for his father to see, and then unceremoniously dropped him to the floor again within full view of Lucius.

“The house is accessible via the Floo network only,” Arthur informed him, knowing full well that this mode of transport did not sit well with the aristocrat.

Within seconds an ash covered Lucius Malfoy was standing in front of Arthur Weasley. He promptly drew his wand and performed a Scourgify charm, to clean off the soot. He noted, but chose to disregard, for the time being at least, Draco's state of dress, or undress as the case more accurately was. He did not however, ignore the fact that his only child and heir had his hands bound crudely behind his back.

“I demand that you release my son immediately,” Lucius told him in a dangerously low tone.

“I don't think so, you see I have a problem with that piece of filth you refer to as your son,” Arthur replied, as he walked around the table and sat down. “Take a seat, Malfoy, we've got a problem to sort.”

Lucius moved to sit opposite Arthur, noticing for the first time the young witch seated at the other end of the table with, it seemed, only a blanket to cover her modesty. Lucius was no fool, and did not need an in-depth explanation of what the situation was; the evidence spoke for itself.

“Well talk, Weasley,” Lucius snapped.

“I arrived home this morning to find your boy in my daughter's bed,” Arthur informed him, struggling to maintain his temper.

“I hardly see how you can claim that you are the one with the problem, it seems that Draco is the one who has lowered himself,” Lucius replied in a controlled tone laced heavily with acid.

“I'd watch my mouth if I were you, Malfoy,” Charlie snarled from behind Arthur.

“Good bit of advice that. Charlie here inherited Molly's temper, and it's not very pretty to witness,” Arthur warned almost casually.

“This is absurd,” Lucius growled under his breath.

“Back to business then. Now, the way I see it, your boy has destroyed any chance I may have had in making a good match for my only daughter,” Arthur said gruffly.

“What is this going to cost me?” Lucius sighed heavily.

“Your money is no good here, Malfoy,” Arthur informed him.

“No, I suppose you would not know what to do with it,” Lucius muttered.

With that comment, the Weasley boys plus Harry began to advance on Lucius, each wearing expressions of pure loathing. The blond wizards eyes opened marginally. He was no fool. He knew these men could take him and his son apart in seconds, if the mood struck them.

“Down boys,” Arthur instructed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched the senior Malfoy struggle to retain a dispassionate expression on his face. “There is no price on my daughter's virtue.”

“Be reasonable, Weasley. Everyone has a price,” Lucius was losing what little patience he had, but he was loathed to let Weasley know it.

“You don't have a daughter, Malfoy. I don't expect you to understand, but believe me when I say if you were to hand over your Gringotts vaults and their contents, it would not be enough,” Arthur told him pensively.

“Then what?” Lucius said impatiently, trying to ignore the fact the left elbow of his expensive robes was resting perilously close to something disturbingly indescribable atop the kitchen table.

“I was thinking that perhaps it was time to invoke some of the more ancient wizarding laws,” Arthur replied, watching his adversary for his reaction.

“You can not be serious?” Lucius countered in astonishment.

“I am most definitely serious,” Arthur confirmed.

“Weasley, need I remind you that this is the twentieth century?”

“Twentieth… fourteenth, the crime is still the same. Why should the punishment differ?” Arthur reasoned with a deceptively casual shrug.

“That would mean…”

“Yes, it would.” Arthur smiled broadly for the first time, but it was not a congenial gesture.

Seeing no alternative, Lucius was forced to agree. “You are certain of this, Weasley?”

“Absolutely,” Arthur confirmed without hesitation.

“Very well then, it seems I have no choice.” With a heavy sigh, Lucius cast a pitiful glance at Draco.

“Good. Bill, summons Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure he would be happy to officiate proceedings,” Arthur ordered.

“Dumbledore,” Lucius shrieked, all pretenses at dispassion abandoned.

“Dad, I could contact the Minister. I'm sure he wouldn't mind,” Percy interjected pompously.

“No, no that won't be necessary, I'm sure the minister has far more important things to concern himself with,” Arthur declined the offer.

“In my opinion, the Minister of Magic would be far better qualified,” Lucius interjected.

“More qualified than the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot?” Arthur queried cynically.

“Very well, Dumbledore will suffice, however, I insist Severus Snape be in attendance.” Lucius agreed reluctantly, but put forward his demand that at least Draco's godfather be present, and he felt prepared to push the issue if needs be.

“Agreed, if that is what will make you feel more comfortable with the procedure,” Arthur said.

“I will never feel comfortable with this,” Lucius growled. “This is utterly absurd. I cannot believe I have to go along with it. He's my only son for Merlin's sake!”

Draco had been listening intently to the conversation, and did not like what had reached his ears thus far. With all this talk of Professor Dumbledore in his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Minister of Magic, he was sure that it could not be good for his health. He was totally perplexed as to what fate held for him, and he cursed himself for not paying more attention in History of Magic. As he sat bound and motionless on the floor, he hoped that whatever it was, it would be quick and painless.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my live journal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER FOUR

I'M SORRY FATHER

No one had told Draco what was going to happen to him. He was still on the floor naked, and not even his father had offered to cover him up. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape had arrived, only to be ushered into the front room immediately, apparently for a discussion with Arthur Weasley and the formidable Malfoy patriarch.

Ginny had not moved from the chair she had been placed in earlier. She kept glancing over at Draco, but his gaze was firmly fixed on the door leading to the room where the men were convening. She had no idea what they were going to do to him, but what disturbed her most was the fact that Lucius Malfoy did not seem to be putting up much of a fight for his only son.

As the four older wizards came back into the kitchen, Draco looked pleadingly to his father and godfather, but neither would meet his eyes. Their faces were set in stony expressions that were unreadable, even to Draco, who knew them both implicitly.

“It seems we have a plans to make,” Arthur intoned to the room full of people.

Lucius glowered at Arthur. “You agreed that I could speak with my son alone.”

“Of course, everyone out. Bill, Charlie, bring Ginny. I will inform Molly of the…arrangement.”

The entire Weasley clan and friends left the kitchen immediately. Bill and Charlie had to practically carry their sister from the room, as she made no effort to join the family.

“Father?” Draco said as soon as the door to the front room had closed.

Lucius strode across the room and stood over his son. He resisted the urge to reach down and simply knock the boy's head off. Never in his life had he imagined his son's future taking such a turn. “Well, a fine mess you have managed to get yourself into this time.”

“I'm sorry, Father.”

“You are only sorry you got caught, Draco.”

“I didn't mean…”

“Yes, yes… You didn't mean to get caught,” Lucius snapped impatiently.

“No, I…”

“What on earth were you even thinking touching that filth? A Weasley for Merlin's sake! She is beneath you.”

“At one point or another I should imagine,” Severus quipped sourly.

“She's not…”

“They are Blood Traitors, not worthy of our scorn,” Lucius railed wildly.

“Ginny's not like them,” Draco yelled back.

“Oh? Tell me, what is the little trollop like?” Lucius replied in a dangerously low tone.

“She's not a trollop,” Draco growled, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Was she good, boy?” Lucius sneered at him.

“It's not like that.”

“I cannot imagine any other reason you would have to lower yourself so far as to share a bed with a Weasley harlot.”

“She's not a harlot either.”

“Not a harlot?” Lucius raised an eyebrow in incredulity. “Well perhaps the definition has changed. Severus you are the Professor among us, enlighten us; has the definition of harlot changed?” Lucius mocked.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“No I didn't think so,” Lucius drawled cruelly.

“Father, Ginny is not like that, she was a virgin until I…”

“Until you what? Until you persuaded the silly little bitch to spread her legs for you? I wager that wasn't difficult. She probably jumped at the chance! What makes you so sure she will remain faithful? What makes you so sure you are right about her?”

“She's not like that, she's decent.”

“That little piece of trash is no better than the sluts I throw a couple of Sickles at for their services.”

“YOU BASTARD,” Draco roared, fury and indignation on behalf of his mother bubbled up in his chest.

Lucius bent at the waist, placing his hands under Draco's arms, pulling him roughly to his feet before slamming him into the wall. The thought that the entire house would begin falling around their ears passed briefly through his mind as the wall trembled with the impact.

“You do not seem to understand your position, boy, this unfortunate misdemeanor will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“What do you mean? What is to happen to me?” Draco asked nervously.

“You are to be married to Ginevra Weasley,” Lucius stated coldly through gritted teeth, while a vein on his temple twitching apoplectically.

“What?”

“It has been decided in accordance with the laws that govern us.”

“Surely there are other options?” Draco whined.

“There are,” Lucius conceded, shooting a pointed glance towards Severus.

“Hm, let's see, naked and dead, or married?” Severus sneered, as he looked Draco up and down. “Those are your options, boy.”

Draco stared at his godfather incredulously; he quite obviously was not happy about being summoned, and was not in a sympathetic mood.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Lucius sighed heavily. “You are aware that many of the laws governing us in the wizarding world are centuries old. There is a section of the law that states if a wizard is caught — shall we say — with his pants down, he must marry the maiden he has defiled, or face a penalty of death by the maiden's family. Weasley seems intent on following though with archaic ruling, and there is little I can do about it.”

“What if I refuse to marry her?”

“Her family is permitted to kill you however they see fit.”

There was a nasty gleam in his father's eye, and Draco decided not to push the limits of Lucius's temper.

A strangled noise escaped Draco's throat as he looked from his father to his godfather, realizing that there was absolutely nothing they could do to help him. He would have to marry Ginevra Weasley whether he liked it or not. Draco swallowed hard. “I guess I'm getting married then.”

“A judicious choice.”

Severus smirked nastily. “At least until Narcissa hears about it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER FIVE

MOLLY

Arthur sought Molly out, and brought her to the front room of the Burrow. Casting a silencing charm over the room to ensure the family's privacy, given that Lucius was speaking with Draco in the kitchen, he sat her down in a chair next to where Bill and Charlie had placed their sister.

Taking a calming breath, Molly looked to her husband; “What has been decided?”

“He will marry her,” Arthur stated emotionlessly.

“I see,” Molly murmured, above the exclamations of disapproval from her sons.

“Dad, you can't be serious?” Ron beseeched.

“Yes, I can be! He has soiled your sister; therefore he gets to keep her.”

“But… but… he's Malfoy,” Ron stuttered.

“Yes, and if I'm not mistaken, your sister will be well cared for given their financial status.”

“She can't marry him… he's… he's a bloody ferret,” Ron's face had surpassed red, and was now turning purple with rage.

“Enough, Ronald,” Molly interjected.

“Mum, she can't…”

“Everyone out, I want to speak to my daughter. Alone,” Molly ordered in a tone that brooked no opposition.

She waited with thinly veiled patience, as the family members made their way up the staircase. Once the last of the footfalls could be heard on the first landing, she turned to regard her only daughter.

Still covered only with the blanket from her bed, Ginny was crying silently. Molly steeled herself against the urge to gather her in her arms and sooth away the humiliation she must be feeling.

“Well this is a fine mess, what do you have to say for yourself, Ginevra?”

“I'm sorry Mum, I didn't mean for all of this to happen.”

“I'm sure you didn't. How long have you and that boy been… indecent with each other?”

Ginny seriously considered telling her mother that it was the first time, but one glance at her hardened features encouraged her to tell the truth.

“Umm… since early last year.”

“What?” Molly sounded scandalized.

“I… I love him,” Ginny mumbled.

“Love? How in the name of Merlin do you know what love is? You are just a child — you have no idea what it means to be in love.”

“I'm not a child.”

“Oh is that so? That would be the reason that you're sneaking around behind our backs, sleeping with that boy? How many more have there been, Ginevra? How many more boys have you let… touch you?”

“None — only Draco.”

“Liar.”

“I swear, Mum, only Draco and no one else.”

“Not that it matters now,” she huffed. “You heard your father; you are to be married to that boy.”

“I… I…”

“Not ready to be married, Ginevra?”

“I don't know, I mean I love Draco, but marriage; it's forever.”

“Yes well, you should have thought of that before you welcomed him into your bed.”

“What if I don't marry him?”

Molly snorted. “He will be killed by your brothers.”

“Wh… what?” Ginny stammered. Had she really just heard that correctly? As for her mother's tone — it was almost as if she wanted it to happen.

“They will get to kill him in any manner they see fit.”

“I… I'll marry him then.”

“I thought you might,” Molly sighed and then added under her breath, “foolish girl.”

“When?” Ginny was having trouble organizing her thoughts into coherent sentences, and so stuck to monosyllabic answers.

“I assume it will be sometime in the next day or so.”

“Can I see Draco?”

“No, not until the wedding.”

“Why?”

“That's the way it's done.”

“Oh.”

“We have plans to make… the robes first; we'll have to transfigure my old ones.”

Ginny merely grunted in response.

“Come along, upstairs with you — we need to sort these robes out immediately.”

Ginny rose slowly, and followed her mother upstairs. Molly shooed the rest of the family back to the front room, so she and Ginny could have some privacy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Weasley men, with Harry and Hermione, once again took up residence in the front room of the Burrow.

“Dad, surely you're not going to force Ginny to marry Malfoy?” Ron had not given up petitioning Arthur for his sister's reprieve.

“Ron, they will be married, and there is nothing any one of us can do about it.”

“But you can, it was your idea — you can just tell them that you changed your mind, and you don't want her to marry him,” Fred joined the fight for his sister's freedom.

Arthur sighed heavily. “I don't want her to get married, she's too young, but I honestly didn't think that Lucius Malfoy would accept the offer.”

“What choice did he have?” Percy scoffed.

“Well, I did think that he would bargain for his heir's life a little harder,” Arthur admitted.

“What were the choices?” George asked seriously.

“Marry Ginny or death by our hands,” Arthur responded quietly.

“Now that sounds like a lot more fun than a wedding,” Ron announced loudly.

“I'd like to get my hands around his scrawny neck,” Charlie growled, demonstrating in the air how he would throttle Draco.

“Dad we have to stop this,” Ron said urgently.

“We can't.”

“We'll just tell them that we've changed our minds, kill the ferret and Ginny will be all right,” Ron explained.

“Ron — enough. That is not an option, they have to accept her into their family.” Arthur's voice was rising with frustration. “Only if they refuse, … do we get to kill the bastard.”

“Shhh… I think mum's coming,” Bill warned everyone.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Going to the very back of her wardrobe, Molly brought out the large box containing her wedding robes.

“Here, put this on,” Molly instructed passing it to Ginny with her lips tightly pressed together.

Ginny dropped the blanket that had been covering her and slipped the wedding robes over her head. They were meant to reach the floor however with Ginny's height they hung above her ankles.

“Oh dear, I don't know if this is going to be possible,” Molly muttered as she circled her daughter inspecting the robes for fit.

“But what will I wear?”

“I'll be right back.”

Molly went directly back to the front room, where the rest of the Weasley clan was having a heated discussion over the merits of allowing the only witch in the family, for generations, to marry a Malfoy. An eerie quiet filled the room as she entered.

“Arthur?”

“Yes, Molly.”

“Ginevra will need robes.”

“Your old ones will do.”

“No, they're too short, and no charm is going to change that.”

“Well, she can bloody well get married in that blanket she's been parading around in all morning, for all I care.”

“Arthur,” Molly reproved.

“No, Molly, I will not spend another Knut on that girl.”

Molly did not bother to argue her daughter's case any further, once Arthur had made his mind up on a matter of this much importance, it was impossible to convince him to change it. She turned and made her way back upstairs to Ginny.

“Your father has refused to buy you new robes for the ceremony.”

“But I can't wear these,” she moaned. “Please, Mum, won't he change his mind?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“Oh gods, this is such a mess,” Ginny wailed as she sat heavily on the side of her parent's bed.

“There, there, we'll sort something out,” Molly tried to soothe her.

“No, it's hopeless, Mum — I can't get married in these, and there is no way I can buy more,” Ginny said as she started to cry in earnest.

Molly was across the room in a flash, gathering her daughter into her arms and rocking her gently in an effort to quell her tears.

“It's hopeless,” Ginny sobbed.

“No… no it's not, we'll sort something out,” Molly tried to keep her voice even, as her own tears threatened to spill over.

“How? We have no money, Mum.”

“Shhh…” Molly's fight against her own emotions broke, and tears spilled down her face, dropping onto the flaming red hair of her daughter. “We'll work something out. Just because it's a forced marriage, doesn't mean it can't be beautiful.”

Mother and daughter sat for a long while crying in each other's arms, before Molly partially extracted herself.

Holding Ginny by the shoulders, she looked her in the eye. “I promise your wedding will be as beautiful as we can possibly make it. Your father is angry at the moment, but he'll calm down soon, and then we'll discuss what we have to do.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“No need to thank me,” Molly replied as she wiped away some of Ginny's tears. “I just wish it wasn't happening like this, for your sake.”

“I'm really sorry, Mum.”

“I know, Ginny.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER SIX

THE DANGERS OF NEEDLEPOINT

After reluctantly agreeing to meet with the Weasleys the following day, to finalize plans for the impromptu wedding, Lucius Flooed home with a very naked Draco and an unimpressed Severus.

Stumbling out of the hearth into his mother's parlor, Draco's ears were immediately assaulted by a shriek from Narcissa.

“Where are your clothes, Draco?”

Looking frantically around the room, Draco quickly picked up Narcissa's needlepoint, and held it in front of himself in a vain attempt to preserve some self-respect. A moment later, Lucius stepped out of the hearth with his usual grace.

“Narcissa, Severus will be arriving shortly — perhaps you might arrange some tea?”

“Lucius, what is going on?”

“All will be revealed in good time, dearest.”

“I rather think all has already been revealed,” Narcissa sniped back, shooting a dangerous look at her only son. “I want to know what is going on, and I want to know now!”

“Tea, Narcissa, then we shall talk.”

Narcissa summoned an elf, and instructed that tea for four be presented immediately to the parlor. Meanwhile, Severus Snape stepped out of the Floo network and into Malfoy Manor.

“Narcissa, how enchanting to see you again.” Severus greeted her with a deep bow of his head.

“Severus.” She inclined her head in acknowledgement of the greeting. “I presume you are aware of what is happening?”

“Yes, fully advised thank you.”

“Then perhaps you could explain to me why my son is standing there covering his… his…” She waved a perfectly manicured hand at Draco's nether regions, “with my needlepoint.”

Lucius stepped forward before Severus had an opportunity to respond. “Now, dearest, we shall await the tea.”

“Father, may I be excused to put some clothes on?” Draco enquired politely.

“No, you were comfortable enough lying around Weasley's kitchen in this state, therefore you can remain as you are while we explain to your mother the situation that you have found yourself in.”

Draco sighed heavily, and turned to sit on a rich velvet chaise lounge.

“Draco, do be careful…” Narcissa voice trailed off as she watched her son's face contort in pain, he had quite obviously met the long, thick needle that was attached to the work he was covering himself with. “Oh, Draco, are you all right?”

Narcissa made to move across the room to aid her son, seeing his eyes widened, despite the pain he was in.

“Mother, I am fine,” he grunted out, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling growing in his stomach.

Looking down at the needlepoint, Draco very gently tried to lift it off of himself to no avail. The needle had punctured his body and sunk in a fair way at a most uncomfortable angle.

Clearing his throat, Draco looked up at his father. “Umm… Father, I… could you possibly give me some privacy for a moment or two.”

Lucius looked impatiently at his errant son. “What is the problem?”

“Umm… err… I seem to have… the needle…”

“What?”

“It stabbed me.”

“Let me see.”

Lucius strode over to Draco, bending at the waist to get a better view; he lifted the needlepoint as far as he could, ignoring his son's yelp of pain. There was no masking the grimace that crossed his face when he saw where the needle had penetrated.

“Narcissa, if you could give us a moment.” Lucius indicated that she should leave the room.

“No!” she stated defiantly. “Tell me what Draco has done now.”

“Narcissa, it is not necessary for you to examine the wound. I am more than capable of dealing with it.”

“Nonsense, your knowledge of healing charms could be scripted onto the tip of your wand and you would still not get the incantation correct — now I insist, let me see the damage.”

Lucius blanched at her reference to his pitiful knowledge of healing charms, however if truth be told, he had never required a substantial knowledge of such charms. Not that he hadn't ever hurt himself, quite the contrary, but Narcissa had always cared for his wounds and, preceding her, his mother. With no other choice he moved aside, allowing his wife access to her injured son.

Draco flushed bright red as he looked to Lucius. “Father?”

“Your mother is right, she is much better at such charms than I.”

“But… it's stuck in…”

“Now, Draco, I am your mother. I used to order the house elves to change your nappy — it's nothing I haven't seen before and most recently, not ten minutes ago,” Narcissa chided.

Narcissa removed Draco's hands, and very gently lifted the needlepoint, “Oh dear it is certainly stuck in there — I didn't realize it was so big.”

“Mother!” Draco exclaimed in horror.

His mother rolled her blue eyes and sighed heavily. “The needle, Draco, the needle is big. You're well…”

“Mother, please… Oh god, Father, stop her.”

Unable to help himself, Lucius sniggered. “Narcissa, I don't feel we should make Draco feel any more inadequate.”

“Merlin, I should have just let them kill me,” Draco bemoaned.

“Hush now, Draco, I need to think how we're going to extract the needle without causing you too much pain.”

Narcissa proceeded to examine the site of Draco's wound even more closely, and much to his horror, began to prod around the area surrounding the puncture.

“Mother!” Draco's voice was beginning to sound strangled.

“I need to feel which way it is running.”

“You could have just asked me.”

“That's all right, dear, I know now,” she assured him. “Now I need you to either stand up or lie flat.”

“I… I don't think I can move.”

“Lucius, Severus,” Narcissa commanded. “It appears I may require some assistance. I need Draco's body to be flat. Standing up or lying down, it matters not which.”

Lucius and Severus assisted Draco to a flat position on the chaise. Narcissa leaned over, indicating that she wished to speak to the two men alone before performing the extraction.

Leading them a suitable distance away from the lounge Narcissa turned and spoke. “I feel it may be prudent if you were to perhaps restrain Draco's arms and legs. I would not want him to do anymore damage to himself.”

“Very well, dearest, I'll take the legs shall I?” Lucius agreed.

“As you wish, Narcissa,” Severus intoned deeply.

The three walked back over to Draco, and took up their positions around the long chair.

“Draco, you will need to remain perfectly still while I withdraw the needle then I will heal any wounds you have,” Narcissa told him seriously.

Draco swallowed heavily. “Yes, Mother.”

With a nod from the witch, Lucius and Severus trapped both his arms and legs firmly as requested.

Feeling more vulnerable now that he could not see what was happening, Draco began to wonder if this day could possibly get any worse. Then he felt his mother's soft hands begin to travel up between his thighs — it seems it was going to get a whole lot worse.

Oh god someone just kill me now, he thought, before letting out an unmanly squeak as Narcissa's hand rode higher still. She's… my mother… is touching… she's got hold… oh gods… she's got my dick in her hand.

Narcissa had slipped a hand up, and grabbed hold of Draco's deflated length firmly, so she would be able to extract the needle out quickly. Bringing her other hand to the top of the needlepoint, she carefully slipped two fingers down to take hold of the small amount of the needle that was still showing. Without hesitation, she rapidly pulled the needle towards his stomach, making him scream like a girl.

“Now does that feel… better?” Narcissa asked, looking at her son's now tear-streaked face. “Right, let me look at the damage.”

Having discarded the needlepoint, Narcissa bent over to closely examine the puncture wound Draco had suffered. He was helpless to do anything to cover himself, as Lucius and Severus were still restraining him firmly.

Reaching her hand down, she very gently picked his injured limb up and tutted to herself as blood ran down to color the flaxen curls at its base. Draco's thoughts immediately went into turmoil — Oh god… she's touching me again… I… god, Mother, please, just leave me alone… this has got to be some sort of punishment… I swear I'll never… ever again… I promise…

Bringing her wand to the flow of blood, Narcissa muttered an incantation, a white light shot from its tip, and the bleeding ceased.

“There. All better,” she announced, as she released her grip on Draco and subconsciously patted the afflicted area.

With the exclamation that there was no further need for treatment, Draco found that he could now move his arms and legs. Immediately, he swung his legs over the side of the chaise, and came abruptly to a sitting position, making Narcissa move back quickly from the edge of the chair. Looking around almost frantically, Draco was trying to spy something that he could safely cover his modesty with.

“May I suggest a throw pillow?” Severus offered the puffy square to him.

“Thank you,” Draco murmured.

“Now we have that sorted, I suggest we get down to business,” Lucius stated, clearly forgetting about the tea he had ordered earlier. “Dearest, perhaps you should take a seat.”

Narcissa swept over and sat down close to Draco, too close for his comfort, and he shuffled along a little.

“Lucius, please explain what is going on and why my son is in this state of undress,” Narcissa requested, her voice even but firm.

“It seems that your son was caught with his… pants down, so to speak.”

“I'm afraid I don't follow you.”

“He was caught in bed with Ginevra Weasley,” he stated dryly. “By her father.”

“What? Draco!”

“That is not the worst of it my dear.”

“Go on.”

“The Weasleys have seen fit to impose the worst form of punishment upon him.”

“And that would be?”

“He will be married to the silly little wench the day after tomorrow.”

“What?” Narcissa's voice was dangerously low and could have quite conceivably frozen mercury.

The silence that hung in the room was deafening.

“No,” Narcissa stated simply.

“Narcissa, no is not an option. If we do not agree, then they will put him to death.”

“They… they can't, it's against the law,” Narcissa stated, lifting her chin higher in defiance.

“Narcissa it is the law — granted, it is an ancient law, but a law nonetheless.”

She took a deep shuddering breath, and lifted her gaze to Draco. “Well just what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I'm sorry, Mother.”

“Sorry? Sorry is not going to fix this mess, Draco,” Narcissa shrieked at him, as she stood to gain more effect from her outburst.

Draco watched as his father and godfather backed out of the room, leaving him alone with his raging mother. Her temper dubbed her indisputably a Black, and while she did not unleash it often, when she did, she was more than capable of making the toughest of Death Eaters shake in their boots like naughty little boys. In truth, when Narcissa Black Malfoy lost her temper, she was very, very dangerous.

“Why, Draco?”

“I… we were just having fun… everyone does it,” Draco stammered.

“Oh I see, just because everyone else is doing it that makes it all right does it?”

Draco was speechless. His mother had never been this angry with him, ever.

“Perhaps I should have left that needle in place — at least you would have been unable to… perform.”

The only sound Draco could make was a sickly squeak, as he held the pillow tighter to him.

“Well, it seems as though I am now going to have to share my manor with some harlot who can't keep her knees together.”

“She's not a harlot,” Draco growled quietly.

“Oh she's not? Well you could have fooled me. You are going to be stuck with this… this… tart for the rest of your life.”

“I realize that.”

“And just what are you going to do when you bore of your little strumpet?”

Draco stood, still holding the pillow in place over his bits. He faced his mother, his own temper had now risen, and he was not going to sit idly by while his family to spoke of his girlfriend — fiancée — in that manner.

“Ginny is not a strumpet, or a tart, or any other filthy name you might want to call her, she is a lady,” he shouted at his mother as he advanced on her. “And if I bore of her, I guess I can always do what Father does — throw a few Sickles to some whore for a quick fuck.”

A ringing silence fell. Narcissa had paled considerably during her son's tirade, and she had yet to formulate a response to his attack.

So intent were they on one another, neither noticed that Lucius had re-entered the parlor, not that he had been all that far away — in fact he had been just outside the door, so he could eavesdrop on every word that passed between them. Upon hearing his little secret being so ungraciously revealed to his wife, Lucius considered it shrewd to step in before any further damage was done to his own marriage.

“Draco, that is quite enough,” Lucius snarled from the doorway.

“You… you…”

“Now, now, dearest, there is no need to upset yourself so. I am sure that in time we will all become accustomed to their marriage.” The grimace on his face belied his true feelings, however.

Narcissa closed the distance between herself and her husband swiftly. Standing directly in front of him, she drew her hand back and slapped his face before he could react.

“I was not talking about his marriage.”

“Cissa, dearest, perhaps we should leave this discussion for a more private setting.”

“Why should we? Draco has just spilt all your dirty secrets or do you have more?” Her voice had, once again, begun to take on a dangerous timbre.

“Cissa, I merely phrased something to make a point to Draco. I certainly do not partake of any whores, I assure you,” Lucius said quietly, so that Narcissa was the only one who could hear him.

“I am simply expected to believe you?” Narcissa sniffed.

“Dearest…”

“Don't you `dearest' me, Lucius Malfoy.”

“We will discuss this further in privacy, Narcissa,” Lucius strained his voice through gritted teeth. “For now, we need to deal with Draco.”

Narcissa began to drift back in the direction of her wayward son. “Ah yes, it seems that the apple does not fall far from the tree.”

“That is not the issue, Narcissa. He is about to be married and there is not one single thing we can do to stop this fiasco from going ahead.”

“Well, as there is not a thing we can do, I suggest that we get on with it then.”

“What?” Draco choked out.

“Well that is what you wanted to hear, is it not?” Narcissa asked haughtily.

“That's it? No more yelling? You're just going to let it go?” Draco was astounded that his mother's mood had changed so dramatically from what it was not five minutes before.

“There is nothing more to do for it, Draco. We are being forced to purchase the cow.”

“Pardon? I don't quite follow mother.”

“My dear, it seems that the milk was, apparently, not free after all.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER SEVEN

WEDDING PLANS

The Weasley family arrived at Malfoy Manor promptly at nine o'clock in the morning, as arranged the previous afternoon. They had received a Floo call from Lucius Malfoy himself late in the day, requesting that the meeting be held at the Manor, and that the two Weasley women accompany the men — even though this went against tradition in these circumstances. Arthur, of course, questioned the Malfoy elder's motives, and was swiftly reminded that this whole marriage debacle had been his idea. It was only after Lucius reluctantly admitted it was at Narcissa's insistence that the arrangements be changed, that Arthur agreed, if somewhat still apprehensively.

A house elf admitted them to the grand foyer of the manor, and instructed them to wait where they were for the time being, before scampering away. It was not long before Lucius swept down the staircase, with a grace usually reserved for women of high class.

“Weasley.”

Arthur stepped forward. “Malfoy.”

“My wife has requested that we first stop by the drawing room, she would like to meet you. After we have dispensed with the formalities, I suggest the gentlemen retire to my study for discussions.”

“Of course,” Arthur replied tersely.

“Good, if you would follow me.”

Lucius led them toward the southern end of the grand house. He was smugly aware that they were gaping at his lavish home quite openly. The fact that the Weasley house could have fit comfortably into the foyer of Malfoy Manor was not lost on its Lord and master.

Lucius paused in the doorway, and cleared his throat lightly to obtain Narcissa's attention, before entering the tastefully decorated room. With precision born of years of training, he moved to stand beside his beautiful wife. Lucius scowled in irritation, as he observed the expressions of awe on the redheaded visitors faces — it was as if they had never seen wealth before. Smirking, he mused, they probably haven't given the state of their… home.

Narcissa stood beside Lucius, her chin tilted in arrogant regard at her very distant cousin and his homely wife. She had formed her plan the evening before and now, seeing the woman standing in front of her, doubted that it would be difficult to effect. Lucius would pay for his indiscretions, and pay dearly.

“Narcissa, allow me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”

“How… delightful to meet you both,” Narcissa intoned with false sincerity.

“You have a beautiful home,” Molly complimented her flatly, just as insincerely.

Smiling coldly Narcissa replied, “Thank you — it is, of course, Lucius' ancestral home.”

“Mrs. Malfoy.” Arthur dipped his head ever so slightly in greeting.

“Mr. Weasley.”

“Well, I suggest we move along to the study. Draco is waiting for us there.” Lucius motioned to leave the room.

At the mention of Draco's name, Ginny's head snapped up, and she looked expectantly at the Malfoy patriarch who returned her gaze with a patronizing smirk before leading Arthur from the room.

“And you must be, Ginevra.” Narcissa glided toward her. “It's so lovely to meet you, my dear.”

“Mrs. Malfoy, I… that is….”

“It's quite all right, dear — come sit down and we'll take some tea.”

Narcissa led the two red haired witches to a small table surrounded by three brocade chairs. When they were all seated, Narcissa poured the tea in a genteel manner, indicative of her aristocratic upbringing.

“Well, we certainly have a lot of arrangements to discuss,” Narcissa started. “I took the liberty of organizing the reception already — of course we can change anything that you are not pleased with…”

Molly looked at the blonde witch with undisguised shock. “I was under the impression that the men were to deal with the wedding arrangements.”

“Oh, what do men know about weddings?” Narcissa scoffed.

“Exactly what have you arranged?” Molly demanded harshly.

With a light sigh, Narcissa responded, “I have arranged the caterers, flowers, musicians…”

“What right do you have to make such decisions?” Molly shrieked indignantly.

Narcissa sat up perfectly straight, and pinned Molly with a superior gaze. “Need I remind you that I am the mother of the groom, and as such I wish to see the children married in a manner befitting their station, well, Draco's at least.” The pointed barb was accompanied with a disdainful sniff and a half-smirk from Narcissa.

“Need I remind you that as the mother of the groom you would traditionally keep your nose out of the wedding preparations, and simply turn up when you are told,” Molly responded haughtily.

Taking a deep breath and willing herself not to rise to the bait, Narcissa responded evenly, “I have a great deal of experience organizing charity balls and the like, and as we have such limited time to make the necessary arrangements. I felt it prudent to make a substantial contribution.”

“Oh yes, you make all the arrangements with no regard as to how we are going to pay for them,” Molly snarled.

“I never said you had to pay, in fact I insist that you allow us to pay for the entire affair.”

Molly's eyes widened in astonishment, before responding disdainfully. “We can afford to give our daughter a wedding.”

“I did not imply otherwise, but I would like to give my son the society wedding he deserves, and you cannot afford that,” Narcissa replied, her tone one of undisguised patronization.

“So it doesn't matter what we want for Ginny, so long as you get exactly what you want for Draco?”

“Quite the contrary, I believe I have already indicated that anything you are not happy with can be altered.”

“What if we want a quiet family wedding at home — our home?” Molly challenged.

“Is that really what you want? Would you not rather see your daughter married in a beautiful ceremony, followed by a wonderful reception — a dream wedding?”

“Your definition of `a dream wedding' is more likely my nightmare,” Molly sniffed.

“It is not your wedding, Mrs. Weasley,” Narcissa sniped.

“Neither is it yours, Mrs. Malfoy,” Molly retorted.

“In that case, I suggest we ask Ginevra what it is that she wants.”

“Very well, Ginny what type of wedding would you prefer?”

“I… don't really … umm…” Ginny stammered. She had been quite happy to maintain her silence.

“Now come along, dear, you certainly weren't this inhibited when you were with my son yesterday, so there is no reason to be shy with me now,” Narcissa chided.

Ginny flushed a red so deep that it made her hair appear dull. The none-too-subtle implication from Narcissa was not lost on the young witch, and she sat staring at her hands where they were clasped in her lap, wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow her.

Molly glared harshly at Narcissa, before turning her attention to her daughter. “Ginny, what do you want?”

“I don't care,” she replied in barely a whisper.

Narcissa snorted in an unladylike manner. “Surely you have an opinion of what type of wedding you would like?”

“I don't care — I don't want any of this, no one bothered to ask me if I even wanted to get married!” Ginny blurted, her apprehensions rising to the surface and shoving aside any reticence she may have had about such an outburst in front of Draco's mother.

“That, apparently, is irrelevant. Your father is insisting on this union, and there is little anyone can do about it … Now what type of wedding would you prefer?” Narcissa's harsh words slammed into her like Bludgers.

“I don't care,” muttered the young witch rebelliously.

“How can you not care? Surely you had a childhood dream of what your wedding would be like?” Narcissa huffed impatiently.

“Yes.”

“Well … did it include a grand ballroom… a beautiful gown… a handsome groom…?” Narcissa enquired.

“Something like that,” Ginny admitted.

Smirking triumphantly, Narcissa announced, “Good then it's settled — we'll go ahead with the arrangements I have made.”

“Ginny didn't agree to go ahead with anything,” Molly interjected quickly.

“I can offer her everything she dreamed of as a child! What is it you can offer her?”

“A loving family.”

“Hardly useful given the circumstances,” Narcissa snorted.

“Perhaps not, but important nonetheless.”

“It's what Ginevra thinks that is of importance, not you.”

“Mum, it's all right, we'll just go ahead with Mrs. Malfoy's plans — it'll save you and Dad a lot of money,” Ginny spoke up, eager to prevent the uneasy banter between the two older women from escalating into a potentially dangerous situation.

“Only if that's what you want Ginny. Your father and I can manage to give you a proper wedding.”

“No, it's all right, Mum. We don't have much time and…”

“Wonderful,” Narcissa exclaimed. “Now, dear, you simply must tell me all about your dress.”

“Oh… umm… I don't…” Ginny stammered, how was she to tell this vision of perfection that she didn't yet have a dress for the wedding ceremony?

“You do have a dress arranged, don't you?” Narcissa questioned callously. “The ceremony is tomorrow!”

“No, she doesn't. As yet, we've been unable to see to Ginny's wardrobe,” Molly interjected sharply.

“Oh dear, I see, well that's the first thing we will have to attend to. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I will Floo my designer and have some samples brought over for your approval.”

Molly's face hardened. “That's not necessary.”

“Oh it's quite all right. Why trudge all over Diagon Alley, when we can have the finest robes available brought to us instead?” Narcissa said lightly, as she rose from her chair and swept from the room, leaving Molly and Ginny alone for the time being.

“Mum, even if they pay for everything else, we can't afford to use her designer,” Ginny half whispered.

“Don't worry, dear, we'll just reject everything they bring with them,” Molly replied evenly.

“When are we going to have time to look for wedding robes?” Ginny asked, concern etching her tone.

“We'll get out of here as soon as we can. I can't imagine your father wanting to spend much time in the company of Lucius Malfoy,” her mother replied, patting her hand.

It wasn't long before Narcissa drifted back into the room.

“Well, everyone will be arriving soon. Isn't that splendid?” Narcissa announced.

“Everyone?” Ginny choked.

“Oh yes, dear. My designer and his staff, plus I took the liberty of contacting my stylist — fortunately he's available tomorrow, and then, of course, there are the invitations, well I've taken care of my list… Dear me we do have a lot to achieve today.”

“But…” Ginny's voice failed her.

“Is there something wrong, dear?” Narcissa's encouraging smile was in no way indulgent, and Ginny was reluctant to continue.

“But the wedding is tomorrow… how can we invite people?” Ginny spluttered.

“How can we not invite people dear? After all, this will be the `wedding of the year',” Narcissa replied.

“The wedding of the year?” Molly repeated incredulously.

“Of course! Draco is the Malfoy heir and will someday inherit a great deal of wealth! Not to mention the fact that he is the sole remaining wizard on my side of the family — well, let's just say he is quite a catch. Of course, all of that is quite apart from his physical attributes,” Narcissa told them proudly. “I trust you do realize how lucky you are, dear?”

“I… umm…” Ginny was unable to form a suitable response to such a statement — `lucky' wasn't the word she would have used.

“Now the guest list — you did bring yours?” Narcissa's look of askance was directed at Molly.

Pinning Narcissa with a hard look, Molly asked, “What are you playing at?”

“I'm sorry, playing?” the blonde witch feigned innocence.

“I hardly think that it would have escaped your attention that this marriage is being forced by circumstance, it's not a union of love,” Molly reminded her spitefully.

“That is no reason not to have a proper wedding with all the superfluities,” Narcissa responded snootily.

“All these… trimmings are hardly necessary.”

“Oh dear, it would appear that you've misunderstood me, please allow me to explain.”

Molly inclined her head, indicating that the other woman should continue.

“I would like to see my son married in a proper way with a decent celebration, despite the disgrace this event has brought to the family. Please do not feel as though you have to hold back. We have no budget.” Narcissa willed her voice to remain even.

“You seem to be taking this rather… calmly.”

“Well there is little that can be gained from ranting. It's best if we just get on with the preparations.”

“You were not shocked at the announcement?”

“Of course I was, but if my husband refused to endeavor to extricate our son from this mess, then the least he can do is pay for a proper celebration,” Narcissa replied stiffly.

“I see, so all this is simply revenge on your husband for not rescuing your son from being permanently bound to my daughter?” Molly asked maliciously.

“No I…”

“What is it, Mrs. Malfoy, if you are not exacting revenge for Draco's sake?” Molly demanded.

“I simply wish to see my son married in a proper ceremony, with an acceptable reception — I see no fault with that!” Narcissa exclaimed.

Molly eyed the other witch suspiciously. “No, there's no fault with your reasoning, so long as it's the truth.”

“Of course, it's the truth. What are you implying?”

“It seems to me that you have an ulterior motive.”

“Oh this is ridiculous! I simply wish the children have a respectable wedding… by my standards,” Narcissa replied.

“Very well — shall we move on then?” Molly conceded abruptly.

“Good, yes now, the guest list,” Narcissa announced, as she passed Molly a quill and parchment.

Accepting the proffered stationery, Molly began to list the names of family and friends that should be advised of the wedding in the very least. By the time she had finished, a house elf had shown a troupe of people into the drawing room.

The couturiers immediately set about unpacking their wares, and preparing to display the best they had for Narcissa's approval.

An elderly wizard approached the table, speaking directly to Narcissa. “Madam, when you are ready.”

“Thank you, Alfonso. If you would show us what you have with you,” Narcissa commanded.

The wizard nodded to his employees, and they began to move forward one at a time with wedding gowns levitating beside them. Each gown was rotated slowly, and was described in full by the accompanying employee.

Ginny had a difficult time not responding enthusiastically to each dress as it was paraded in front of her.

“Dear, if you see anything you would like to examine closer, just speak up,” Narcissa encouraged.

Ginny merely nodded in response, her attention almost totally focused on the breathtaking garments being paraded for her.

A sudden gasp from the young bride-to-be brought a halt to the parade. The dress in view was exquisite, simple but gorgeous.

Noticing Ginny's change in demeanor, Narcissa immediately ordered that the dress be brought forward for closer scrutiny by the three witches.

Alfonso stepped forward and proceeded to describe the dress in great detail. “This is an exceptional gown Madam — made from white satin-faced organza, it has a sheen that is almost luminous. As you can see, the bodice is embroidered with silver threads and pearls that follow around to the rear of the dress which laces up corset style to the waist, the skirt hangs in an A-frame to the floor, with a circular train of five feet from the back of the dress, it comes with a matching fingertip veil and, of course, because it is strapless, a matching shawl.”

“Ginevra?” Narcissa looked askance at the young witch.

“It's so beautiful,” Ginny uttered breathily.

“Does the young lady wish to try the dress on?” the elderly wizard enquired politely.

“Oh… I couldn't … it must be so expensive,” Ginny responded hesitantly. She would like to slip into the beautiful gown more than anything, but there was no point in getting her hopes up. They could not afford a dress of this magnitude.

“Now, Ginevra, I did say that Lucius and I would take care of expenses,” Narcissa reminded her, before turning her attention to the wizard. “She will try it on.”

“Very well, Madam,” the wizard responded. With a flick of his wand, a makeshift dressing room had been erected in the corner of the drawing room, and Ginny was ushered inside.

Once she had been assisted into the exquisite dress, Ginny walked slowly out from behind the screens that made up the dressing room. She was ever so careful not to damage the costly garment.

“Oh my,” Molly gasped. “Darling, you look so beautiful.”

“This is definitely the dress for you, the cut is perfect,” Narcissa said. “Are you happy with it dear, or would you like to look at some more?”

“I like this one,” she stated decisively, “and it fits perfectly.”

“Good. We'll take it,” Narcissa directed the comment to Alfonso.

“Dearest…” Lucius' voice sounded from the doorway. “What, may I ask, is going on in here?”

“Oh my, is Draco with you?” Narcissa said with alarm tainting her tone.

“No, dearest, I believe he has slunk back to his chambers to continue nursing his wounds from yesterday.”

'Wounds?' Ginny's head came up immediately. 'Is Draco hurt?'

Upon noticing Ginny's obvious distress over the mention of Draco having wounds, Narcissa took sympathy on the girl. “No need to panic, dear, just a little mishap with my embroidery needle, I'm sure he will be able to… perform tomorrow evening.”

“Excuse me?” Ginny was momentarily shocked by Narcissa's brazenness.

“To consummate your marriage of course, even though I am assured that you have already… copiously. Nevertheless, your wedding night is something to cherish, and I'm sure that he'll be fine. Although I cannot speak from experience myself. One only wonders what a needle of that length could do to that part of a wizard's body.”

Molly appeared to be barely controlling an apoplexy, and was shifting uncomfortably on the chair.

“Needle, what needle?”

“My embroidery needle, dear. He unfortunately tried to cover his modesty with my embroidery and got it stuck in his… well anyway, I'm sure he'll be fine. You must let me know if you feel that he's not performing to expectation and we will see about summoning a Medi-wizard.”

“You want me to tell you if…” Ginny spluttered. By this time Molly's face was crimson, and she was gripping the arm of the chair with a wholly unnecessary amount of force. Arthur on the other hand, was determinedly not looking in his daughter's direction, and was absently scuffing the toe of one shoe against the parquet floor.

“You do, after all, have… experience with my son, and you are ideally placed to know if he's performing competently in his conjugal duties.”

'Oh gods,' Ginny thought, 'this is not happening. I am not having this conversation with Draco's mother, and my parents are not right here listening to every word. I swear to the goddess, I'm going to wake up any minute, and find that this has all been a terrible nightmare.'

“Narcissa?” Lucius prompted again. “What is happening here?”

“Oh, dearest, Ginevra has been unable to see to her robes for tomorrow, so I had Alfonso bring some of his finest gowns for her approval.”

Lucius walked to his wife's side. “Narcissa, they would have to sell their house to pay for the dress she is currently modeling,” he said out of the side of his mouth, so quietly it was barely audible.

“Nonsense,” Narcissa exclaimed before giving her husband a nefarious smirk. “We are paying.”

Lucius' eyes grew wide as his blood pressure instantly rose. Gritting his teeth in an effort to abstain from raising his voice. “What?”

“Of course, dear, they cannot afford a prestigious wedding, and we have more than enough, so we will pay for the entire affair,” Narcissa told him, then added haughtily, “I would like to see Draco married in style, he is my only child.”

“Narcissa,” Lucius growled in a dangerously low tone.

“There are some more bank notes on the table pertaining to the reception, perhaps you could sign them now,” Narcissa informed him, dismissing his tone of voice, and changing the subject to indicate that the matter was now closed.

Lucius stalked over to the table, and picked up the wad of Gringotts Bank notes. Sifting through them quickly, he saw that they were, indeed, relevant to the reception and totaled quite a tidy sum in Galleons.

“Narcissa, is all this nonsense truly necessary?”

“Absolutely!” she exclaimed. “Lucius, we are organizing a wedding, not some frivolous get together for your friends.”

Giving his wife a measured look, Lucius responded evenly, “Dearest, I do not feel that your… attitude is completely warranted.”

“Don't you? Perhaps I should refresh your memory then… you do recall what Draco informed me of yesterday?” Narcissa taunted.

“I see. This is some form of penance.”

Narcissa smiled coldly at him and turned her attention back to Ginny.

“Ginevra, if you would take the dress off now, I will see that it's properly prepared for tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Ginny whispered.

“Well, I think we have achieved all we can today. I will take care of the invitations and see to it that they are delivered by this afternoon. All you need do is turn up tomorrow, and everything will be in place. You will of course be dressing here. I will set aside some rooms for your use.”

“Thank you,” Ginny murmured her acknowledgement again; quite sure that Narcissa would hold her in debt for the rest of her life.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ARE YOU READY?

The morning of the wedding, breakfast at Malfoy Manor was a somber affair. Still stunned that this was actually going to happen, and there was nothing his father could do to gain him a reprieve, Draco sat picking at his breakfast. He felt less like eating than he had ever before, and the fact that his stomach was threatening to revolt at any given moment just added to his misery.

“Draco darling, has your wound healed satisfactorily?”

“Pardon, Mother?”

“The embroidery needle, Draco. I trust the wound has healed?”

Flushing crimson, Draco uttered, “Umm… yeah, I think so.”

“Well, no matter. I instructed Ginevra to advise me if she thinks you are not performing competently.”

“What? You… you told Gin?” he spluttered indignantly.

“Of course, dear. As your… partner, she is best placed to assess the situation.”

“Oh gods, this is a cruel nightmare…” Draco muttered to his plate.

“Well, I must see to the arrangements,” Narcissa announced as she rose and left the room in a swirl of expensive robes.

“Draco?”

Sighing heavily, Draco wondered just what method of humiliation his father had in store for him. “Yes, Father?”

“This is a supply of contraceptive potion. Ensure you put it to good use. You do recall my warning from last night?”

Draco took the bottle of potion Lucius offered, replying despondently, “Yes, Father.”

He had been summoned to his father's study the evening before, and the lecture he had received was still fresh in his memory.

“Father, you wish to speak with me?”

“Come in, Draco.”

Hovering in front of Lucius' desk, Draco was decidedly uncomfortable.

“Take a seat.” Lucius leaned back in his chair, almost raising the front legs off of the floor.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Well… traditionally this would be the time where I would be expected to instruct you on how to treat your wife on your wedding night, but as you have already taken care of the wench's virginity, I see no point in covering that particular subject.” Leaning forward in an almost predatory way, Lucius continued, “I will, however, remind you to use precautions at all times, if you make your mother a grandmother before she is ready, even I will not be able to protect you from her wrath.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And do remember to cast a silencing charm over your rooms,” Lucius said with a weary-sounding tone in his voice. “It will not do to have your mother hearing… activities coming from your bedchamber either. It will be bad enough that she knows what you are doing, without hearing it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to make it perfectly clear to you right now, that there will be no complaining from you concerning tomorrow's events. I will not tolerate having the family name shamed anymore than it already has been these past few days. There is nothing I can do to change what is going to happen, Weasley seems intent on nabbing his promiscuous daughter a wealthy husband before she totally destroys her reputation, and you were foolish enough to be caught with her in a compromising position.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, as long as you understand. Your mother has put a great deal of effort into tomorrow's event, not to mention a vault full of Galleons and she will be upset, to say the least, if things do not go according to plan.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I advise you to get a good night's sleep, tomorrow will be a long day.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodnight, Draco.”

“Goodnight, Father.”

When Draco left the dining room, he found himself dodging house elves and people he did not recognize who were scurrying in every direction, obviously preparing for the afternoon event. He returned to his chambers, not only to stay out of the way, but he also didn't feel like being around strangers at this time. In fact, the only person he truly wanted to see was Ginny. They had not yet been allowed to speak, and he was desperate to find out how she felt about all of this wedding business.

He spent two hours prowling his rooms restlessly. Unable to concentrate on anything for any amount of time, Draco decided to leave the sanctuary of his private chambers. He'd not eaten a great deal at breakfast and now his stomach was fast becoming demanding. While he could have, and normally would have, summoned a house elf to do his bidding, he thought the better of it today. A change of scenery might just be the distraction he needed.

Reaching the bottom of the grand staircase, Draco casually headed in the direction of the kitchen. Many people were still rushing around in preparation for the afternoon and he heard the frequent Apparation pops of the house elves, as they tore about the house completing their multitudinous tasks.

As he strolled past a normally disused parlor, Draco curiosity was aroused a little when he heard voices drifting into the corridor. He entered the room, but came to an abrupt halt when he realized to whom the voices belonged. His attempt to back out of the parlor without detection was foiled when he bumped into a small occasional table, knocking a priceless vase to the floor with a resounding crash.

“Malfoy,” Ron Weasley growled maliciously.

Draco lifted his gaze to confront all the wizards in Ginny's family, Harry Potter included. He stared in disbelief, as each and every one of their faces began to mimic their hair. Draco felt as though he were trapped in a bad dream — the type where danger is imminent, but your feet are rooted to the spot. As they began to advance on him, Draco knew that if he didn't get out of their way in the next minute or so, he may not see lunch, let alone his impending nuptials.

“Draco, what are you doing down here?” His father's voice echoed around the group, providing him with an instant stay of execution.

“I … I was…”

“Well?” Lucius prodded impatiently.

Rather than stay and try to stutter humiliatingly through the rest of the explanation, Draco turned tail and left the room hastily. Deciding against the original trip to the kitchen, he walked in the direction of his chambers. When he mounted the staircase, he realized his mother's hair stylist was in front of him. Draco hung back silently, and watched him turn in the opposite direction to that of his parent's chambers. While he didn't fancy getting too close to the wizard — he had always struck him as odd and he did not appreciate the way he was always touching him — Draco was curious as to where he was headed. Then it occurred to him, if the Weasley men were here at the Manor, then Ginny had to be here as well, and perhaps the hair stylist was on his way to her instead of his mother. He allowed the wizard to gain a comfortable lead, before starting to discretely follow him.

“Draco?”

“Mother…”

“Where, may I ask, are you going?”

“I was just…”

“Draco, it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

“Mother…”

“The two of you are going to find it hard enough beginning a marriage like this, without you putting extra pressure on yourselves by invoking bad luck.”

“Really, Mother, I don't believe in…”

“Whether or not you believe, Draco, is beside the point. The fact is, you will call upon bad luck if you see her before this afternoon. I am warning you, stay away!”

“Fine! I'm going back to my chambers!”

“Ensure you remain there,” Narcissa stated firmly. “I will have your lunch sent up.”

Draco wandered slowly back to his chambers to pass his remaining hours as a single man on his own. As promised, his mother sent his lunch up about an hour later, but he found himself, yet again, unable to eat a great deal. His stomach threatened to revolt violently each time he tried, so in the end he gave up in frustration and shoved his plate away from him in a pique.

Not long after he had given up the idea of eating anything at all, there was a rap at his door.

“Come in.”

“Draco, it's time to get dressed.”

“Yes, Father,” he replied. He forced himself not to cringe as his stomach churned wildly.

He picked himself up from the chair he had slung himself over, and made his way to his bathroom for a shower. When he returned to his bedchamber, Lucius had left, presumably to get dressed himself. With almost painful slowness, Draco pulled on his black and silver dress robes. He sat on the edge of his bed to pull his black, dragon hide boots on, before returning to the bathroom to attend to his hair.

“Draco?”

“In here, Father.”

“Are you ready?”

“Would you like the truth?” Draco replied caustically.

“Very well, I shall rephrase the question. Are you dressed?”

“Yes.”

“Good, it's time to go downstairs.”

“Already?”

“Yes, come along. We don't want your mother having another temper tantrum, because of your tardiness.”

“Yeah… I suppose.”

“You'll need these,” Lucius said, offering two small boxes to his son.

“What are they?”

“The rings, Draco.”

“Oh… of course.”

Lucius walked with Draco down to the grand ballroom. He paused before the great doors, and took a deep breath in the hope that it would calm him, but it seemed nothing could help him now. Lucius flicked his wand and the doors opened slowly. With his head held high, Draco walked beside his father, down the aisle between the chairs that had been laid out to accommodate the guests. There were many guests in the ballroom, all seated and awaiting the arrival of the bride. Draco marveled briefly at how his mother had arranged everything so swiftly. Looking around the room, it appeared as though the wedding had been in planning for months, not merely a day. When his gaze drifted over a group of people with shocking red hair, he brought his eyes back to focus on the end of the room where Professor Dumbledore and his godfather, Severus Snape, awaited his arrival.

“Draco, how are you this afternoon?” Professor Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon glasses.

“Fine thank you, Professor.”

“Wonderful! Lemon Drop?” Dumbledore held out the sweet to Draco with an encouraging look on his aged features.

Draco stared incredulously at the old Professor's hand. “No thank you.”

“Well, if you're sure,” Dumbledore said lightly as he pocketed the sweet.

Severus Snape stepped forward, placing a hand on his godson's shoulder. “Draco.”

“Uncle Sev.” Draco's eyes flicked nervously up to meet the almost-black orbs of his godfather.

“You're all right… I presume?”

Swallowing heavily, Draco responded quietly, “Yes, sir, I'm fine.”

“Good. I will see you after the ceremony.”

“Okay.”

“Draco, I must collect your mother. We will see you when… it's all over,” Lucius drawled.

“Yes, Father,” he responded, staring despondently at his father's departing back.

“Come now, Draco, it's not the end of the world!” Dumbledore told him brightly.

“Sir?”

“You are about to embark on a whole new adventure. Marriage is a wonderful institution, as you will find out in short order, I'm sure.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“At some point before you board the Hogwarts Express, we will need to discuss arrangements for the pair of you for during the school year.”

“Sir?”

“Well you will be legally married and as such there are certain… privileges that go with such a commitment.”

“I don't follow you, Professor.”

“You will be unable to share accommodations at school, being that you are from different houses, but I'm sure we will be able to arrange conjugal visits.”

The old Professor's words played though his mind, I'm sure will be able to arrange conjugal visits, the smirk that was forming on his face fell when he caught sight of the Headmaster's expression. He didn't trust the way the old man's eyes were twinkling at him. Bloody hell, the old bugger is going to know every time we shag.

Draco's lewd train of thought was interrupted by a commotion as the enormous ballroom doors opened. His stomach clenched uncomfortably as he realized that the disturbance indicated to the approach of the bride.

This was it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

-->

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER NINE

I'M NOT GOING THROUGH WITH IT

With the wedding ceremony only hours away, the Weasley family, in its entirety, converged on Malfoy Manor. Ginny and Molly were ushered upstairs to a grand suite of rooms to prepare for the day ahead. The Weasley men had seemingly disappeared into one of the downstairs parlors before the women had reached the top of the staircase.

The main room of the suite had, essentially, been transformed into a large dressing room for Ginny's use. Her exquisite dress was hanging on a mannequin in the center of the room, seeming almost to taunt her with its presence. She had awoken this morning feeling physically ill, not at all prepared for the events that would take place in a few short hours, and not entirely certain she had the strength to go through with the ceremony.

Narcissa Malfoy swept into the room only moments after the Weasley women had entered.

“Everything you could possibly need is in this room. I have assigned a house elf to you for today, so if you require anything, Bocky will assist you.” The creature stepped out from behind Narcissa's skirts and bowed low to Ginny. “The hair stylist will be arriving within the hour, followed by my makeup artist. I do ask that you don't keep either too long, as they are here to attend to me as well.”

Ginny stared at her, Narcissa appeared to be perfectly groomed already. She could easily have stepped off the pages of Witch Weekly's fashion layouts.

“Is everything all right?” Narcissa snapped haughtily.

Ginny flushed slightly, her response merely muttered, “Umm, it's — It's fine.”

“Just as well. I spoke to Draco this morning, and he informs me that his injury has healed well, so you should have no trouble this evening, but keep in mind that if you do I must be informed immediately.”

Ginny's face glowed crimson as she recalled the uncomfortable conversation from the morning before. She had no desire to revisit the subject now, especially in front of her own mother, who was now glaring dangerously at Narcissa. Nodding her acknowledgement at the witch who would become her mother-in-law, Ginny hoped it would be enough to put an end to any further remarks from her.

“Well, I will leave you to prepare,” Narcissa announced pompously, before gliding gracefully from the room leaving remnants of her expensive perfume lingering in the air.

Molly looked tentatively at her daughter. “Ginny, perhaps you should start with a bath, dear.”

“Umm yes, I suppose so,” Ginny responded absently, as she drifted towards the open bathroom door.

Closing it firmly behind her, she dissolved into tears. This was not happening! She kept hoping that she would wake up from this nightmare, safe in her bed at the Burrow, with smells of breakfast wafting up the stairs to tempt her. But it was not to be. She was getting married today, to Draco Malfoy, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to dismount from the wild broom ride she was currently on.

When Ginny stepped out of the bathroom, some time later, the hair stylist was waiting impatiently to fix her hair. He was complaining profusely that Mrs. Malfoy would not be pleased with his tardiness, if he did not put in an appearance soon.

“Come along then. We must hurry, there is so much to do!” The hairstylist exclaimed waving his arms in a way that made Ginny wonder exactly what team he was batting for.

Sitting on the chair in front of a large mirror as directed, Ginny flinched as he pranced up behind her and began running his extremely long, thin fingers through her unruly red hair.

“Such a beautiful color, darling,” he simpered. “Oh yes, we are going to have much fun creating a devastating style for you. Let me see, something elegant, but at the same time... fun! Yes, yes. You'll knock his wand from its sheath when he lays his eyes on you,” the stylist muttered, apparently more to himself than for her benefit.

Stunned beyond speech, Ginny sat wide-eyed, watching in the mirror as the stylist began flicking his wand this way and that to create the most flattering style possible for her.

“I think, yes, I think we are finished at last. Oh and don't you look just edible?”

“Umm, thank you,” she said, unsure quite how to express her gratitude through her stunned amazement.

“Well I'm off! Must get to Mrs. Malfoy, before she feels it necessary to hex me. That witch has a nasty wand,” he exclaimed, then with a giggle that confirmed beyond a doubt exactly what team he played for, he added, “Be a love and don't tell her I said that. Toodles.”

Molly sighed and dabbed a handkerchief to her eyes. “You look beautiful, dear.”

Ginny examined her reflection; he had created a cap of loosely woven hair around her head, leaving a number of artfully placed tendrils to frame her face in soft curls.

“Thanks, Mum.”

The door to the room burst open, and a skinny man walked though followed by many floating cases.

He scanned the room until his eyes lit upon Ginny. “And you must be the bride!”

“Yes,” Ginny answered, wondering exactly who this man was and what right he had to burst in here without knocking.

“Darling, I am Anton,” he stated in a way that made Ginny think she should have known. “I am here to make you stunning.”

“Oh, hello,” Ginny responded hesitantly.

“Now your dress, darling … what color is it?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and cocked her head towards the mannequin displaying her gown. “White.”

“Mmm well, I suppose hardly anyone will know…”

“Know? Know what?” Molly shrieked at the wizard.

“Darling, Mrs. Malfoy and I have no secrets,” Anton informed her with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The color was once again rising in Molly's face and she pinned Anton with a perilous look. “Well, there is nothing to know!”

“Nonsense, of course there is. Quite the scandal—“

“Enough! How dare you?”

“Mum, please can we just get on with it?” Ginny implored, hoping to distract her mother sufficiently, so her temper would have a chance to recede. She could see her mother was close to drawing her wand, not that she could blame her, but it probably wasn't a good idea given the circumstances.

“I'm sorry, dear, but I won't just sit by while these people—“

“Mum, it's all right. Just sit down and we can get on with the makeup.”

Molly sat herself on a stool scowling fiercely at Anton, and watching his every move. Ginny knew if the man made just one more provocative comment there would be little she would be able to do to stop her mother tearing him to pieces.

Anton took Ginny by the shoulders and led her back to chair in front of the mirror. “Now you just sit there and let me do my magic.”

His hands came instantly to her face, feeling it all over then she began to feel brushes wandering over her skin. It felt like hours before Anton finally stepped back.

“We are done, you are a masterpiece!” he announced clapping his hands together.

Ginny peered into the mirror, she had never worn much makeup before, but Anton's touch had been, as he promised, magic. Instead of the image of a frightened teen staring back at her, Ginny found there was a beautiful young woman gazing out of the mirror, and although her eyes registered the trepidation she felt, she no longer appeared terrified.

“Thank you,” Ginny whispered, awed reverence clear in her tone.

“Ah, no need for thanks, lovey, it's what I do. Au revoir!”

Anton left with his cases following him out the door and the Weasley women were alone once more.

Ginny drifted over to stand in front of the window; there were people arriving at the Manor — some she knew, most she did not.

Coming to stand behind her daughter, Molly tentatively announced, “Ginny, dear, it's time to get dressed.”

Sighing heavily, she turned from the view and glared at her dress. She didn't want to put it on, this day was not meant happen for years yet — it wasn't the fact that she was to marry Draco, she did love him, but she didn't feel ready to get married at the tender age of sixteen.

“Ginny, come on dear, procrastinating won't make it go away.”

“I know, Mum.”

Ginny approached the mannequin slowly, as Molly removed the dress. She slipped her robe from her body, and stepping into the exquisite fabric again, shivering involuntarily as the cool satin brushed against her skin.

Molly moved around so she could truss up the bodice tightly. “Ginny, dear, just hold onto the bedpost, so we can get this as tight as possible.”

Once she was happy with the fastenings of the dress, Molly knelt to slip her daughter's shoes onto her feet, it was the only thing left to do.

Standing before her daughter, tears began to well in Molly's eyes. “You look so beautiful, Ginny. I'm just sorry this couldn't have been a happy day for you.”

“It's all right, Mum, it's not like I don't love Draco,” Ginny muffled a sob against the back of her hand.

“Oh! Ginny, love don't cry,” Molly tried to console her, holding her gently so as not to crush her dress.

There was a soft knock at the door, and both the women turned their heads.

“Dry your eyes, dear,” Molly said, passing Ginny a handkerchief. “That will most likely be your father.”

Molly wiped her own tears with the heel of her hand before walking to the door.

“Is she ready?” Ginny heard her father ask.

“Yes, dear, she's dressed.”

“Bill will take you down to the ballroom.”

“I'll just tell Ginny I'm going.”

Ginny had stood unmoving, listening to the hushed conversation between her parents. It was time, and she was not ready.

“Ginny, I have to go downstairs now.”

“Okay, Mum.”

“You'll be all right, dear.”

“I know.”

Molly kissed her daughter's cheek, before standing back to allow her eldest son access to his sister.

Bill approached his baby sister slowly, as if in awe of her. “Gin, you look amazing.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

He stepped forward and carefully wrapped his arms around her. “Everything will be all right, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ginny whispered into his chest.

Releasing her, Bill looked as though he wanted to say something more, but no words came. Instead, he turned and walked from the room with Molly following close behind.

“You look lovely, Ginny,” Arthur offered unevenly.

“I can't do this,” Ginny blurted.

“That is irrelevant, Ginny,” he responded strongly. “We'll give your mother a few minutes to get downstairs and then we'll go.”

“No! I'm not doing this! I'm not going downstairs!”

“Come on, Ginny,” Arthur said tiredly.

“No, Dad. This isn't what I want,” Ginny responded angrily.

“Ginevra, you are doing this! Now it's time to go down.”

“No, Dad. I'm not doing it. No one bothered to ask Draco or I what we wanted, you just went ahead and arranged it all, and I can't do it.”

“You stated that you loved the boy the other day. What has changed?”

“Nothing and everything — I don't even know who I am anymore.”

“You're being ridiculous. Come along.”

“No.”

“Ginevra, it's quite normal to have some nerves before such an important event in your life, but you really don't have any choice.”

“No I—“ Ginny's voice cut off as the door to the suite opened.

“Is there a problem?” Lucius enquired smoothly.

“Of course not, we were just having a father-daughter chat.”

“I'm not going through with it.”

“I see. Perhaps I might have a word with Ginevra — alone?”

“I don't see what that could achieve.”

“I can be very persuasive when I need be. Maybe, I can help her to understand the benefits she would experience, if she were to go ahead with the ceremony.”

“Very well, you have five minutes, Malfoy.”

“On the contrary, I have as long as it takes to acquire your daughter's acquiescence,” Lucius sneered at the redheaded wizard.

Closing the door firmly behind Arthur, Lucius turned on Ginny regarding her with his cold piercing gaze. “Care to explain your previous statement?”

“You heard me. I'm not going through with it!”

“Really? And why do you believe that?” Lucius drawled.

“I don't want to,” she stated impertinently, folding her arms across her chest.

“Is that so? Well, it seems that what you want is unimportant.”

“No it's not! This is my life and your son's life! Why should we marry just because?“

“You will marry because you couldn't keep your legs closed and your father has invoked an ancient law.”

“How is that my problem? He wouldn't—“

“Girl, do you not realize just how lucky you are?” Lucius advanced on her, looming over her small frame threateningly. “By marrying my son you will never want for another thing in your life! You will lead a privileged existence until the day you die!”

“I— I'm just not ready to get married!”

“If you do not marry Draco, your family is allowed to kill him by any means they see fit,” Lucius informed her smoothly, watching closely for her reaction.

“What?”

“You didn't know?” Lucius smirked, it was as he suspected — she had no idea.

“No! I —“ She had thought it was some sort of sick joke when her mother told her. The thought that her family could kill someone at will was just sickening.

“Well, I suggest you prepare yourself to walk downstairs.”

“I don't think I can—“

“Ginevra, you will not embarrass this family. You will walk out there with your head held high, like a Malfoy. Draco is waiting for you.”

“I am not a Malfoy,” she replied defiantly.

“You will be soon,” Lucius sneered.

“I— No— I—“ she stammered.

“Come along, Ginevra,” Lucius held his arm out for her to take. “It's impolite to keep everyone waiting.”

Ginny watched in horror as her arm reached out and cradled itself in the crook of Lucius Malfoy's elbow, it was as if it were moving of its own volition. There would be no turning back now; she would be married ready or not.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

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Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER TEN

MRS. MALFOY

She stood in front of the enormous ballroom doors, shaking slightly. Her grip on her father's arm was so tight that Arthur's fingers were in danger of becoming completely numb.

“Are you ready, Ginny?” Arthur asked quietly. He had no idea what Lucius Malfoy had said to his daughter, but she had been silently co-operative since walking out of the suite of rooms on his arm. Then, just before Lucius had gone ahead into the ballroom, with Narcissa on his arm, he had given Ginny a pointed look that seemed to hold some meaning for her, and she tilted her chin in response, making the blond wizard smirk coldly.

Arthur was more than a little worried — things were not meant to have progressed to this point, he had fully expected Lucius to call the whole wedding off, but he hadn't, and now Arthur felt he had no choice but to follow though with his idea.

Ginny nodded in response, seemingly unable to speak at this juncture.

The grand doors began to open, revealing the packed ballroom little by little and the music began.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

From Draco's point of view, it seemed to take forever before the doors were fully open, and as the guests took their first glimpse of his young bride, they began to stand, blocking his view even further. He could hear the surprised gasps, mutters of wonder, and exclamations of delight over the music that had began to be played as she entered the room. Curious as to what the visitors were making such a fuss over, he moved to stand more to the center of the aisle, and immediately became enthralled with the vision making its way toward him with agonizing slowness.

The music faded in his mind to little more than a background noise. He was mesmerized as he watched her walking toward him on the arm of her father. It wasn't that he didn't think she was beautiful already, but he had no idea she could look this beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. As they drew closer Dumbledore reached out to touch his shoulder, reminding him that he had moved forward to see her approach. With reluctance he stepped back to his position, and waited patiently for Ginny to complete the last few paces of her final walk as a single woman.

Arthur stopped her just a few feet away from him, lifting her veil, he kissed her cheek and then he lifted her hand offering it to Draco. Without conscious thought, Draco reached out and took her hand, but Arthur did not let go immediately, instead he pinned Draco with a murderous look.

“You'll look after her, boy, or I will kill you,” Arthur growled in a low voice, heard only by those in the immediate vicinity.

Draco had no doubt, at that moment, that Arthur Weasley would follow though on his promise of death if, for any reason, he felt that Ginny had been mistreated. “Yes, sir,” he responded unevenly.

Arthur released Ginny's hand reluctantly, and moved back to take his seat beside his weeping wife. He patted Molly's hand absently, and continued to glare at the back of Draco's head.

“What a joyous occasion we are gathered to celebrate today,” Dumbledore began. “The joining of two souls in marriage is such a wonderful event...”

The words of their Headmaster began to fade into the background for the young couple, but all too soon he was prompting them for personal responses.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, do you take Ginevra Molly Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“I do,” Draco managed to squeak out, cringing internally at the weak sound of his own voice.

“And do you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, take Draco Lucius Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“I— “ Ginny paused, her eyes revealing her sheer terror.

Draco thought for a moment that she might actually refuse. The silence in the ballroom was deafening, and everyone awaited her response with baited breath. When Lucius cleared his throat pointedly for all to hear, Ginny visibly flinched.

“I do,” she whispered.

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore exclaimed. “The rings?”

Draco handed the aging wizard two diamond encrusted wedding bands with a shaking hand.

“Very nice,” Dumbledore said, smiling encouragingly at Draco as he passed Ginny's ring to him. “Just repeat after me, Draco. Ginny accept this ring—“

“Ginny, accept this ring—“

“as a symbol—“

“as a symbol—“

“of my eternal love.”

“of my eternal love.”

“Well done. Now, Ginny, repeat after me,” he instructed, handing her Draco's ring. “Draco accept this ring—“

“Draco, accept this ring—“

“as a symbol—“

“as a symbol—“

“of my eternal love.”

“of my eternal love.”

“Lovely! Draco, you may kiss your wife,” he added with a wink.

He stepped closer to her, sliding his arms around her slender body and lowered his face to hers, capturing her mouth in a hesitant kiss. Ginny barely responded to his touch, and when he pulled away slightly he was astounded by the fear still held in her eyes. It was over; they were married and, as far as he was concerned, the hardest part had just finished. The rest of the day would be easy.

“It'll be all right, Gin. I'll make sure it is,” he whispered to her with a wink.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy.”

Applause washed over the young couple as they stood facing their guests, neither entirely sure what they should do next. Ginny's eyes widened in horror as she watched Lucius and Narcissa approach them.

Lucius held his hand out to Draco. “Well, congratulations,” he sneered.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Draco, darling,” Narcissa brushed a kiss across his cheek.

“Mother,” Draco acknowledged her with a half smile.

Narcissa looked Ginny up and down before conceding, “Ginevra, you look stunning.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” she replied stiffly.

Narcissa leant forward and kissed the air at Ginny's cheek, she knew it was all a show for the guests, and would have stepped back had it not been for the pressure of Draco's hand on the small of her back.

“Ginevra, I must say you almost look like a lady,” Lucius intoned acerbically, before leaning in and brushing her cheek with a dry kiss, adding in a low whisper, “I thought for a moment you had had second thoughts. I'm pleased to see you came to your senses.”

Try as she might, she could not force a smile, and she grimaced at the wizard who had now become her father in-law.

“I believe the photographer is waiting for you,” Narcissa told them.

“Draco, I want to see my parents first.”

“Okay, the photographer can wait. Your parents are coming now anyway.”

“Ginny, dear,” Molly exclaimed, pulling her daughter into a tight hug.

“Mum, it's all right. Really.”

“Oh dear, so young. You're both so young.” Molly reached out and touched Draco's cheek. “You look so handsome in your dress robes, son.”

“Umm, thank you,” Draco flushed crimson, remembering his attire, or lack thereof, the last time he saw Molly Weasley.

“Draco.” Arthur Weasley stood before him, hand extended waiting for the young wizard to take it.

Draco reached forward, more from social conditioning than a genuine desire, and shook his hand. “Mr. Weasley.”

Narcissa cleared her throat politely. “The photographer awaits, Draco.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Draco ground out.

“Yes, yes go and meet the photographer. We'll see you at the reception,” Molly insisted as she all but pushed the pair down the aisle toward the doors.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco and Ginny had followed the photographer out to the rose gardens and while he set up his equipment, they finally had the opportunity to talk.

“Ginny, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I think so. It's all so surreal.”

“Everything certainly happened … fast.”

“Mmm, how about you? Are you all right?”

“I'm fine now, the hard part is over.”

“Draco the hard part is only just beginning, we're stuck with each other for life — whether we like it or not!”

“Ginny, I tend not to think of it as being stuck with each other. Just think we'll be able to do what we want, when we want…” he drifted off, trailing a line of kisses down her neck.

“Well there is that, but—“

“Shhh, no buts. We're together and that's all that matters. It just happened sooner than it should have, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't take advantage of the situation.”

“I suppose. It's just — it will be strange to start with.”

“Maybe, but it will be a nice `strange'.”

“Yes,” she barely breathed out before his mouth crashed down on hers seeking permission to deepen the kiss immediately. He was not denied.

The photographer dared to interrupt them. “We are ready to begin the portraits, Mr. Malfoy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The ballroom had been transformed from a makeshift chapel into an enchanted wonderland of soft light and flowers. Ginny had to admit to herself that Narcissa Malfoy certainly knew how to impress. Round tables skirted the large dance floor, and at the end of the room, a long table had been set up for the bridal party.

The meal had been delicious, but Ginny found she was unable to enjoy the fine food. The tension at the bridal table was palpable. Her father and Lucius were shooting looks of pure hatred down the table toward one another, and their respective mothers' behavior was not much better. Narcissa remarking on Ginny's table manners, and that she would require etiquette lessons sooner rather than later, was just about Molly's undoing. Molly had gripped her fork so tightly, that the silverware bent in her hand, earning her a scathing look from the blonde witch. It was with relief that Ginny and Draco left the table to begin the dancing with the bridal waltz.

“They look wonderful together,” Professor Dumbledore exclaimed as Draco twirled Ginny around the dance floor.

Severus Snape merely grunted at the Headmaster in response to his enthusiasm. Scowl firmly in place, Severus scanned the room full of people celebrating the marriage of his godson, it was ludicrous in his opinion — Draco was far too young to be married, especially married to a Gryffindor he enjoyed docking house points from.

Professor Dumbledore leant forward and touched his arm. “Severus, if I might have a brief word?”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

“It concerns special arrangements for Draco and Ginevra during term.”

“I don't follow you.”

“As a married couple they have certain… rights, and we are not in a position to challenge those connubial duties.”

“Headmaster, surely you are not suggesting they be allowed to share quarters?”

“No, no that wouldn't be practical given that they're from opposing houses. We will, however, have to make some allowances for their circumstances.”

“Allowances?”

“Perhaps weekly visitation rights to fulfill their matrimonial duties to one another?”

“Headmaster, I hardly feel that encouraging such behavior is wise.”

“I don't look at it as encouraging such behavior, more as monitoring it. If we don't make suitable arrangements, I have no doubt that they will exercise their rights anyway. Would you rather not know exactly what was going on with one of your students?”

“I'd rather not be aware of each and every time that Draco is satisfying his urges,” Severus muttered with disgust.

“Ah now Severus, jealously is a curse.”

“I am not—“

“I suggest weekly visits, perhaps with orders to all not to disturb them?”

“Very well, if you insist.”

“Well, I'll leave it to you to inform Draco, as his Head of House and godfather.”

“Do you not think it would be better coming from yourself?”

“No, I feel it would be better coming from you. Maybe he will be more inclined to honor the arrangement if he knows you are watching.”

“I am not voyeuristic!” There was a hint of indignation in the Potions Master's tone.

“I'm not suggesting that you are, Severus. The boy has respect for you, and with you noting when his wife is visiting I am hoping he will feel less inclined to seek her company on non-scheduled days.”

Severus sat and glowered across the dance floor, he resented being put in this position. Whenever one of his students had come to him with a problem in that area, he had always sent them straight on to Madam Pomfrey, and now he had to tell Draco that he could only satisfy his lust once a week. It was humiliating.

“Ah, here they come, now is as good a time as any to explain the arrangement. I'll leave you to it,” Professor Dumbledore stated as he rose to leave.

“Uncle Sev, are you enjoying yourself?” Draco enquired, knowing full well his godfather despised social gatherings.

“Not particularly.”

“Didn't think so. Mother is still watching you so you can't sneak off just yet.”

“I am aware of your mother's observant eyes, Draco.”

“Oooh! Not in a good mood!”

“Sit, I have a message from the Headmaster for you both.”

Pulling a single chair out, Draco dropped himself onto it and pulled Ginny into his lap much to the chagrin of his godfather.

“The Headmaster feels that it would be… remiss of the school not to allow you to… be together on occasion.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow, this was going to be good — Uncle Sev had never been particularly comfortable talking about the birds and the bees. “Be together?”

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore proposes weekly visitations to satisfy your matrimonial requirements,” Severus muttered in disgust.

“Satisfy our matrimonial requirements? Sorry, Uncle Sev, I don't follow,” Draco responded with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Well, if you do not understand what I'm talking about then you run the risk of missing out until you do,” Severus ground out. There was no way in all the realms of Hades that he was going to explain in any more explicit terms than he already had.

“Okay, so you're telling us that we can shag at school?”

“Once a week!”

“Only once a week! But what if we want more? I mean, I'm a growing boy, Uncle Sev, I might not survive on once a week.”

“You have a hand, Draco, I suggest you use it,” Severus responded dryly.

“But—“

“Topic closed, Draco,” Severus growled at him. “Your mother seems preoccupied at the moment. I will see you when you get to Hogwarts. Good evening!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With the hour growing late, many of the guests were beginning to leave. The Weasley brothers gathered around a table talking amongst themselves about the day's events.

“I can't believe Dad let this whole thing get this far.” Percy shook his head as he looked around at the remaining wedding guests.

“He was sure old Lucius would refuse the deal,” Fred supplied.

“It's not so bad, you know,” Bill theorized to his brothers, who looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. “Just think about it for a minute. Look at this place. Gin's going to have everything she's ever wanted right at her disposal. I mean really, if she were going to get caught with anyone, at least she chose someone with plenty of money.”

“Money? What the bloody hell has money got to do with it?” Ron yelled, getting to his feet to enforce his point, clearly not ready to accept the situation.

“Ron, sit down, Bill's right,” Charlie reasoned wearily. “She's going to be looked after, financially anyway.”

“Do you realize what he's going to be to be doing to her?” Ron spluttered, not bothering to lower his volume.

George looked at his youngest brother with a clearly perplexed expression on his face. “What are you on about?”

“That — ferret is going to be — shagging — our sister whenever he bloody well feels like it!” Ron grimaced in disgust as he blurted this across the table.

“Well yeah, err—” Bill stuttered as he spied Draco standing not far from them. “He was already, wasn't he?”

The reality of the situation sunk into the heads of the Weasley brothers, and each looked to another for anything that would alleviate their collective woes.

“He won't be able to touch her at school,” Fred stated with a certainty that was belied by his expression.

“No way would Dumbledore allow that,” George agreed heartily, grasping at anything to eradicate the mental picture floating around his mind of his little sister and the man who had become her husband a few short hours ago.

“On the contrary, gentlemen,” Draco drawled as he approached the table confidently. He had been listening to every word they had said, and felt now was the right time to correct any fantasies they may have been brewing in their tiny brains.

“What are you on about, Malfoy?” Charlie growled.

Draco smirked cruelly. “It seems that as a married man I am entitled to certain privileges at school.”

“He's lying!” Ron spat.

“You wish,” Draco responded, quirking his eyebrows suggestively at the group.

“I swear if you lay a finger on my sister I'll bloody well kill you!” Ron threatened as he got to his feet.

“Well, as your sister is now my wife, you no longer have any claim over her, protective or otherwise,” Draco explained with barely concealed impatience.

With a feral roar, Ron launched himself at his brother-in-law, prompting Bill and Charlie to leap to their feet in an effort to restrain their youngest brother.

“Temper... temper, Weasel,” Draco tutted sarcastically from a safe distance.

Still struggling against his oldest brothers, Ron growled, “Let me go! I swear I'm going to kill the prat! Let me go!”

“That's not very nice, Weasel,” Draco admonished pompously.

“Malfoy, if you don't make yourself scarce right now, we might be tempted to let him go,” Bill growled, straining with the effort of holding Ron back.

Glancing over his shoulder, Draco announced pompously, “I do believe that's the Minister for Magic. Do excuse me, gentlemen, I simply must extend our gratitude for his attendance this afternoon.”

Fred waited until Draco was out of ear shot before he stated, “We should have just bloody killed him the other day.”

Half way across the ballroom, Lucius caught his son's eye and indicated that he was to join him immediately.

“What was going on over there?” Lucius enquired glancing menacingly at the Weasley brothers.

“Nothing,” Draco responded, watching the table of men carefully.

“I hardly think that the physical restraint of one amounts to nothing, Draco.”

“The stupid gits have just realized that I am entitled to all the extra benefits that accompany marriage, and that their sister will be providing such services.”

“I would not be advertising the fact just yet.”

“Why? It's not like she can deny me — not that she would deny me anyway,” Draco smirked nefariously.

“That may be so, but she is hardly of our class. Draco, you have married far below your station. The girl is barely a step up from a common street walker.”

“Ginny is a lady.”

“So you keep saying, but you don't really have any comparison,” Lucius pointed out.

“Are you suggesting I take your lead, and engage the services of a whore?”

“Perhaps if you had, we would not be having this conversation at your wedding reception.”

“I wouldn't lower myself to sleep with such filth.”

“You certainly weren't concerned about lowering yourself when that trollop opened her legs for you.”

“I didn't lower myself!”

“You didn't lower yourself!” Lucius exclaimed sarcastically. “You are married to a blood traitor! Tell me, Draco, what is it you intend to do about her Muggle-loving tendencies? Have you no pride? No family loyalty? Merlin only knows how much damage this disgraceful situation will do to our standing in the community. She is hardly a good match for you!”

“Ginny is a pureblood! She is not a blood traitor. She's never done anything to earn that title. It's like people calling me a Death Eater, just because you're one.”

“Enough,” Lucius growled in a dangerously low tone.

“And as for the family reputation, I rather think you did enough damage to that with your alliances. My marrying a pureblood from a Ministry family can only help our standing in the community.”

“Draco,” the warning in Lucius' tone was unmistakable.

“Oh, and just for the record, Father, I happen to love Ginevra Weasley,” Draco sneered at his father before stalking off to find his new wife. He had a sinking feeling that he would spend much of his life defending Ginny to his parents.

Oh great, she's with her brothers, Draco thought miserably as he crossed the room, but as he approached a naughty idea began to form in his mind.

Approaching her from behind, Draco slipped his arms around her waist and, grinning nefariously, he asked her loudly, “Hey love, how about we say goodnight and head up to our chambers?”

“Umm, you're ready to go up?” Ginny half turned in his arms.

“Mmm, aren't you?” Draco responded, running his tongue up the side of her neck.

“Malfoy, I'm warning you! Get your filthy hands off of my sister!” Ron's face was the color of his hair, and his normally soft blue eyes had narrowed to slits.

“Settle down, Weasel. I'm allowed to talk to my wife, aren't I?”

“Talk to her then, just don't— don't — taste her!”

“Maybe we should go up, I am a bit tired,” Ginny blurted out in an effort to avoid the argument that was sure to begin any moment.

Draco smirked over her head at the Weasley brothers. “Not too tired, I hope.”

“I'll just say goodnight to my family, and I'll meet you by the doors,” Ginny said, mustering as much persuasion into her voice as she could. She hoped Draco would go, and leave her to say goodnight before one of her brothers attempted to murder him.

“Okay, love, don't take too long,” Draco replied as he sauntered away.

“You're not really going upstairs with him?” Ron blurted incredulously.

Sighing heavily Ginny looked at each of her brothers. “I'm married to him, and yes, I am going upstairs with my husband, and yes I intend to shag him stupid—“

Bill cut her off promptly. “Too much information, Gin!”

“Goodnight, boys.”

She hugged each of her brothers in turn, and listened patiently as each tried in their own way to keep her downstairs and away from Draco. Bill wanted to talk some more; Charlie needed some advice on women; Percy was sure he could push the Ministry to charge Draco with something; Fred offered her a canary cream then promised to put her in his pocket; George offered to feed Draco the canary cream; and Ron told her that Harry's invisibility cloak would see her safely out of here without detection.

Finally breaking free of her brothers, Ginny wandered over to her parents and bid them goodnight hastily, amid words of unneeded advice from Molly, before joining Draco at the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When they reached the double doors of his chambers, Draco scooped Ginny into his arms making her squeal.

“Draco, put me down.”

“Got to do this right, it's tradition!”

Once inside the grand suite of rooms, Draco placed her on her feet. In an attempt not to stare at the lavish appointments of the room, Ginny wandered over to the large French doors that obviously lead to a balcony. The view was magnificent.

“Gin?”

“Mmm.”

“Are you all right?”

“Umm, yeah I'm fine.”

“You don't sound fine.”

“I'm — Oh gods!”

“Ginny? Don't cry. What are you crying for?” Draco looked on helplessly as his young bride sobbed into her hands. He had never been good at handling crying women. They made him feel infinitely uncomfortable.

Approaching her cautiously, Draco ran a hand up her arm in what he felt was a comforting gesture. At his touch she turned and buried her head in his chest, still sobbing loudly. Draco stood still, letting her cry into his chest, his arms hovering in limbo — he was trying as hard as he could to think of something that would make her stop crying. His mother never cried, that he knew of, so he had no example from Lucius to follow, and he couldn't for the life of him think of when he had last seen a woman crying to the point that someone took action. He usually walked away before it got to that stage, but he couldn't do that now, not to Ginny.

“Gin, what's wrong?”

His only response was even louder weeping. With his arms beginning to ache from holding them in the air, he wrapped them around her, and to his surprise her crying seemed to calm just a bit. The longer he held her, the more she quieted, and eventually she stopped crying.

“I'm sorry, it's been a big day and everything just got on top of me for a moment.”

“Hey, it's okay. Feel better now?”

“A little.”

“Good. Why don't I help you out of that dress, so we can get to bed?”

“Thanks, I think I'll need some help.”

Draco busied himself with the laces at the rear of Ginny's dress, loosening them so far that the dress slid down of its own accord revealing her creamy skin clad only in silky white knickers. His temperature rose instantly.

Ginny noticed the look in his slate eyes; it was the same look he always got just before they made love.

“You seem to have too many clothes on, Mr. Malfoy,” she purred, reaching for the buttons on his jacket.

“We might have to rectify that situation, Mrs. Malfoy.”

Ginny's eyes widened slightly upon hearing her married name roll off his tongue. She decided that she rather liked the sound of it — Mrs. Malfoy.

Divesting himself totally of his clothing, and sliding Ginny's knickers down her legs, Draco took her hand and led her to the bed. He laid her down gently, hovering over her, and was just about to lower his face to hers when a silver tray on the nightstand caught his attention. A frown creased his brow as he stood up to examine the tray and its contents further.

“Draco?”

“From Mother,” he responded, holding two phials of potion and a piece of parchment.

“What is it?”

“Contraceptive potion and a note.”

“What does it say?”

Holding the missive up Draco began to read, “Draco, I am aware your father supplied you with contraceptive potion, however, I feel compelled to remind you to use it. Here you will find two single doses for this evening - you must each take one phial. Thereafter every day both of you must take the potion your father gave you. I know that this is extraordinary, but given she is a Weasley, and that family has a breeding history second to none, I would feel a lot better if you both made a habit of administering the preventative diurnally. I am far too young to be made a grandmother! Love Mother.”

“What does she mean by breeding history?”

“Your mother had a lot of children, Gin.”

“So, that doesn't mean anything.”

“I know, I know, Ginny. Mother is just trying to protect us, both of us. Let's face it, the last thing we need right now is a baby.”

“I know that.”

“So the potion,” Draco said, offering her a phial.

Ginny took the phial and drained the contents swiftly; handing the container back to Draco he placed both empty phials back on the silver tray.

“Now where were we…” he growled cheekily from beside her. His mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss, while his hands began to roam of their own free will.

They teased each other's body, exploring every nook and cranny, as they'd never dared before. The thrill of being rebellious may have dissipated from their love making, taking with it the edge of extra excitement or fear they'd get caught, but this was something more, something exceptionally special. Not only allowed to sleep together now, it was expected and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them.

With each passing minute, their need for each other grew, and their ministrations became more purposeful. When he felt her writhing beneath him, Draco could no longer deny himself the pleasure of feeling her completely surround him. They moved together with intimate ease, finding their rhythm easily. Errant whispers and passionate kisses passed between them until speech was replaced with moans of ecstasy.

When she began to tighten around him Draco groaned with frustration. He didn't want the bliss to end, but knew full well it would within mere moments. One day he would gain complete control over his response to her body, but as yet he was still a seventeen-year-old lad with limited experience.

“Oh… sweet Merlin…” he moaned into her hair as shudders of pleasure rippled though his body.

They lay motionless for a few minutes, allowing the last spasms of their concupiscence to run their course. When he felt her breathing begin to slow, Draco rolled off to the side and gathered her in his arms.

Ginny rested her head on his chest. “It's going to be different.”

“What is?”

“Everything. Our lives. School.”

“Yeah, school will be interesting,” Draco admitted laughing. “It's going to drive your brother nutters.”

“What?”

“We're going to be able to shag at school and there'll be nothing he can do about it.”

“Draco, you're not going to deliberately taunt him, are you?”

“Well, not deliberately.”

“Draco,” Ginny paused to stifle a yawn. “You are not to taunt Ron at all.”

“You're tired, sleep now. Talk tomorrow.”

“Mmm, night.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Malfoy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHORS NOTES

I'd like to thank my livejournal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.

Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*

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