Growing Pains

Title: Growing Pains: The Dragon, the Witch and the Smashed

Author: rainpuddle13

Email: rainpuddle13 [at] gmail.com

Rating: R for language

Characters: Draco, Ginny, and others

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,

various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: In the kitchen of Agecroft Hall, things go awry on a warm early morning in July.

The Dragon, the Witch and the Smashed

Ginny tried to get the baby to eat the last bit of eggs on her plate, but Rauri was not the least bit interested. She knew what her daughter really wanted was to be released from the confines of her highchair so she could toddle about, demanding attention from the males sitting around the table, especially her father.

“Are we still going, Mum?” Gareth dared to ask, breaking the unnatural silence of the sunny breakfast nook. His eyes cut toward the Daily Prophet that hid his father from view.

“Of course we are,” she replied, suddenly feeling very tired. Being up half the night was no longer part of her normal repertoire, especially when a big family outing to Muggle London had been in the works for weeks as a lead up to the youngest Malfoy's first birthday.

“What about…” Murphy asked, trailing off before he accidentally uttered the name of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned-lest-Da-goes-nutters.

The morning paper crinkled ominously and the entire room fell instantly silent again. Even Rauri, who was normally a babbling brook, was unusually quiet.

A basket of scones appeared on the table, and Ginny picked a small cinnamon one, halving it before handing it over to the baby to destroy. “Draco, there is a warm blueberry scone in here for you,” Ginny said as sweetly as she could muster, offering the basket full of sweet treats to her husband. “Nils knows how much you love them.”

“Mmmm,” was the only sound emitted from behind the wall of newsprint and moving photographs. He'd barely touched his plate of eggs, mushrooms, potatoes and bacon.

“Draco, love, you should eat something.”

“I am not in the mood,” he said evenly, lowering the paper just enough to glare at the empty chair at the other end of the table.

“You'd feel better,” she insisted.

“I said I was not in the mood.” He leveled a glare at everyone sitting at the table, except Rauri, almost as if daring them to contradict him.

“Yes, well,” she said, ignoring him completely and dumping the scone on his plate, “your mood is starting to upset Rauri.”

Draco reached over and plucked Rauri from her highchair, nuzzling his face in her soft curls before settling her down in his lap. “Da would never, ever upset his princess on purpose. No he would not! He adores his little princess bunny.”

The little girl smiled happily and waved at Gareth and Murphy sitting to her left before starting up a constant stream of babble as she picked through the contents of her father's breakfast plate. Ginny couldn't help but feel a little betrayed by her turncoat daughter. She'd spent years longing for a precious little girl to share mummy and daughter moments with; to spoil rotten; and dress like a pretty princess. In the end, she got an impossibly adorable baby who was completely enamored with her father.

“Mum?” Gareth asked, ruining her reverie. “May I be excused from the table?”

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Of course, pumpkin, but don't go far. We'll be leaving soon. You can be excused as well, Murphy.”

Before either boy could move away from the table, the eldest Malfoy child came stumbling into the kitchen still dressed in the soiled and torn clothing he'd been wearing when he was dragged home by an Auror at two in the morning.

“Well, well, well,” Draco drawled slowly, “look what the cat just dragged in.”

Liam plopped down in his chair, instantly dropping his head down into the protective cradle of his folded arms on the table. Gareth watched the scene play out before him with wide, frightful eyes, too scared to move from his seat. Murphy just tried to make himself blend into the woodwork. Ginny could only watch, with her heart in her throat, as her husband's eyes narrowed dangerously as the object of his ire came into his line of sight.

“Li!” Rauri squealed the second she laid eyes on him, banging her hands on the table in a desperate attempt to get her brother's attention.

He didn't make a move to acknowledge her, until she had managed to get a hold of their father's spoon and started to bang it on the china plate on the table before her. “Stop, stop, stop, STOP!” he growled shrilly, shooting daggers at her with bloodshot eyes.

“Liam,” Ginny warned, casting a wary eye towards Draco as her baby visibly recoiled from the sound of her brother's voice. Rauri had firmly attached herself to Liam the moment he'd stepped off the Hogwarts' Express upon returning home for the summer. They'd gotten along famously up until this moment, and now she feared for her eldest child's life if the dangerous look her husband was giving him was indication after his little outburst.

Draco was in the foulest mood she'd ever witness in their sixteen years of marriage, and it made her nervous. He refused to return to bed with her after he'd unceremoniously dumped a very drunk Liam in his bed in the wee hours of the morning after the Auror had left. He'd wanted to shout at their son, but Liam was in no condition to fully appreciate the full extent of his father's anger. So he'd stewed for hours, pacing back and forth and explaining in detail to her exactly how he was going to murder their child as soon he was in better shape.

“Murphy,” her husband said quietly, handing a very stunned baby to her dark haired adopted brother, “take your sister down to see the ducks.”

“Yes, sir,” Murphy said softly, taking the baby and shoving away from the table. He shushed her with kisses as he made his way to the kitchen. “Let's go see the duckies, Roro.”

“Why don't you join them, Gareth,” Ginny added quickly to prompt her youngest son into action. “Ask Nils for some bread on your way out so you can feed them.”

He looked at his brother for a moment, a worried look marring his otherwise cheerful countenance. It pained her to see her youngest son in such turmoil. Gareth was the bubbly, always happy child who reminded her so much of her brothers Bill and Charlie. She could tell he was working out any possible way to help Liam, but, finding none, he put his hand on his brother's shoulder for a moment in a show of solidarity before escaping the room post-haste.

Draco had leaned back in his chair after neatly folding the paper and setting it on the table to mutely watch the scene play out before him. She was sure he was waiting until Gareth was out of earshot before starting in because the tension in the room was palpable.

“Don't you ever speak to your sister that way again if you value your life,” Draco commanded the moment the sound of the slamming side door had reached their ears.

Liam sat up and regarded his father with blurry eyes. “Because Merlin forbid we do something to upset Da's precious little princess,” he snorted.

It had gone from bad to worse in a blink of the eye. Ginny had figured Liam would sit quietly as his father spent his anger in a loud bluster. A punishment would be dealt out and life would return to normal after their son promised to never, ever do this again. That was how things usually worked. Only she hadn't counted on Liam getting cheeky straightaway. She often wondered where in the world her sweet baby had gone.

“She's never known anything but love and isn't accustomed to be shouted at. Do it again, and I will make you regret it,” Draco warned him.

Ginny saw Liam roll his eyes as he sat back and mutter “whatever” under his breath before slouching down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and glaring at his father. She was thankful that Draco hadn't seem to notice or else he probably would have exploded like one of Neville's potions assignments back during school.

“Good. Now that's settled, lets move on to your little escapade last night. Did I not forbid you to leave this house last night?” he asked harshly.

“I vaguely recall you saying something about that,” Liam said with a sly little smile.

“And yet you saw fit to ignore me?”

“Yeah, I did,” Liam responded defiantly.

Ginny could see the little vein on the side of Draco's neck start to throb. “And you thought it was all right to go to that party after I had expressly forbidden it?”

Liam seemed to ponder the question a moment. “Uhm, yeah I did.”

“And just why did you think that?”

“Because I felt you were being a tyrant,” Liam explained.

Draco's eyes darkened dangerously. “If you thought I was a tyrant before, believe me, you haven't seen anything yet.”

“Yeah, well, do whatever you're going to do to me so I can go back to bed. My head is killing me,” her eldest child said with a bored air.

Draco chuckled as he got up to tower menacingly over their son. “You wish I'd let you off that easily.

How much did you drink last night?” he inquired, one eyebrow raised in question. “You positively reek.”

“A lot,” Liam answered softly.

“Do you know how unbecoming it is for a Malfoy to be drunk in public like some common Muggle?” his father demanded.

The younger half of the pair shrugged his shoulders. “I don't care.”

“You better start to care because I will be damned if I allow you to ruin the Malfoy name I've worked so hard to repair!” Draco shouted.

Liam stood up, wobbling a little and having to hold on to the table to remain steady. “That's all you fucking care about. Malfoy this! Malfoy that!”

Ginny desperately wanted to do something to put a stop to the row before it got much more out of hand, but she didn't begin to know how to insert herself without both of them turning the brunt of their anger on her. Father and son were so much alike, knowing exactly how to hurt each other, made it agonizing for her to witness.

“And you seem to enjoy the respect the family name affords you,” he accused, getting right in his son's face.

“Whatever,” the teenager ground out, trying to push past his father.

Draco blocked any means of escape with his solid body, pushing the strapping boy who was nearly as tall as he was, back almost against the wall. “Murphy managed to obey me.”

Liam's lips curled into a cruel smile. “He's afraid you'll toss him out on his arse if he fucks up.”

“He should have no fear of that because he has a better understanding of what it means to be a Malfoy than you do! You, on the other hand, should have great fear.”

“What?” Liam taunted. “You'd toss your precious Malfoy heir out on his arse?”

“You're forgetting that I have two spares! Fuck up again and see what happens!”

“Imagine the scandal!” Liam said dramatically, gesturing wildly with his hands. “I can see the headline in the Prophet now: “Malfoy Heir Out on Arse!”

“We've weathered worse, trust me,” Draco said resolutely.

“You wouldn't dare!”

Ginny watched as a slow, cruel smile crept across her husband's lips. She knew what that meant, and it frightened her. Draco had the ability to compartmentalize, to shut down his empathy; he referred to it as `going cruel' and had insisted it had saved his life during the dark times. She'd only been witness to this side of her husband twice in her life - the last time being when Seamus had shown up the moment her break-up with Draco had become public and she'd just found out she was pregnant with Liam. It had taken three of her brothers to pull Draco off her former boyfriend in the brightly lit corridor in St. Mungo's that awful evening so many years ago.

“Are you brave enough to tempt me?” her husband asked viciously.

For the first time since the heated row began, Ginny saw fear creep into Liam's gray eyes and she knew she had to step in before it went any further. “Draco,” she said firmly, standing up to get his attention, “that is enough.”

“Was the bint worth it?” Draco pressed, obviously ignoring her demand.

“Draco, please stop.” She put her hand on his arm in an effort to quell him. Things were starting to spiral dangerously.

Liam had seemingly managed to find his inner Malfoy again, drawing up to his full height as his eyes narrowed once more. “What makes you think there was a bint?”

“There's always a bint when you're sixteen.”

“So, you're saying Mum is a bint then?” Liam asked snidely, going for his opponent's weakest spot just like his father had taught him to do.

Draco's hold body went rigid. “What did you just say?”

“Well, if there is always a bint when you're sixteen, then that makes Mum your bint,” Liam explained slowly as if he were speaking to a child. “You were shagging her back then weren't you?”

“William Draco Malfoy!” Ginny cried, completely shocked that her child would say such a thing about her, even in the heat of an argument.

“Apologize to your mother right now!” Draco growled, shoving her protectively behind him. His face had turned red with his anger.

Liam gave them a wickedly delighted grin. “No.”

Before she even realized what was happening, her husband lunged for their son, and the two of them began scuffling around her. “Do it!”

Ginny pulled at Draco's arm in a desperate attempt to separate two of the people she loved most in the world before someone ended up hurt. “Stop! Liam! Draco! Please stop!”

“Apologize,” he ground out again, grabbing a handful of his son's filthy t-shirt, the material ripping loudly along the shoulder seam.

“No,” Liam managed to eek out.

She forced herself between them. “Stop!”

They continued to scrabble around her; Draco trying to get a-hold of Liam who was just as determined to keep out of his father's reach that is until she cried out in pain. Tears welled in her eyes as she pressed her hand gingerly to her injured cheek.

“Ginny,” Draco squeaked, his hands tenderly gripping her shoulders and his eyes wide in surprise. “Are you all right?”

“Mum?” Liam asked tentatively.

She drew in a few deep breaths, gathering her composure. She knew someone was going to end up hurt, and that someone wasn't supposed to be her.

“Stupid-pigheaded Malfoy men,” she muttered, her fear quickly turning into anger as she shrugged off her husband's hands. “You!” She pointed to Draco. “Study! Now!”

Liam smirked as he watched his father leave the room as quickly as his dignity allowed him.

“Don't think you'll be getting off scot-free, young man,” Ginny said, turning her attention to her child. “Arse, chair, now. I will be dealing with you when I'm not so angry I want to throttle your neck.”

Satisfied that Liam was sufficiently afraid to move from his spot, she retreated to her study to consult with the one person who would understand her dilemma.

< - > - < - > - < - > - < - > - < - > - < - >

Ginny stood in the archway of the kitchen, trying to get her emotions under control while staring at her child with his head buried in the crook of his arms resting on the breakfast table. It was all she could do not to go over to try to shake some sense into him, but that hadn't gone over well when his father had tried it. No, this situation called for drastic measures and her mother had offered her some interesting and very creative suggestions during their half-hour long Floo call.

“Liam, sweetheart,” she whispered, running her fingers over the ugly black bruises that marred the pale skin on his arms, whispering healing charms in her wake. “Sit up and look at me.”

He grumbled, slowly pushing himself upright and quickly shielding his eyes. “Light, too bright.”

“I know, but that's what happens.”

“My head…”

“Throbbing? Your father gets the worst headaches if he's drank too much.”

“Make it stop, please,” he pleaded.

She sighed; it was difficult not to give in right then and make it all go away for him. “No.”

Liam gave her a surprised look. “No?”

“You made your bed, now you're going to have lay in it,” she said resolutely.

“Mum, please, I beg you; it feels like my head is going to explode,” he pleaded.

“You should have thought of that last night before you sneaked out of the house and got drunk!”

“Mum!”

“Don't `mum' me! I'm worse than angry with you. I am disappointed!”

“Whatever,” he hissed, getting to his feet a tad too quickly if the green tinge to his skin was any indication. “My head hurts and I don't want to listen to your caterwauling right now.”

Whatever sympathy Ginny might have felt for her eldest child's plight dissipated instantly. “I suggest you sit your arse down, now.”

“I'm going to back to bed,” he said defiantly.

“I suggest you sit down before my patience with you runs out. You've already pushed your father too far, and trust me, you don't want to do that with me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped in front of the doorway, glaring at him to drive home the point she was not to be trifled with.

He glared back at her, but plopped down in the seat that had been his since he was old enough to sit at the table. “I know, you're disappointed in me. I embarrassed the family. I could have gotten killed. I'm not allowed to go to London today. I promise to never, ever do it again. Now can I go back to bed before my head falls off?”

“No, this is serious, Liam. You disobeyed your father when he told you that were to absolutely not to leave this house last night!”

“I wanted to see Elisabeth!”

“And your father said no.”

“He's a tyrant!”

“And she's a tart!” She had no idea why he insisted on chasing after everything in a skirt at Hogwarts when the darling Lucy Ann was right under his nose!

“Liz is not a tart!”

“Well, I hope last night was worth it because you will be not be seeing her again anytime soon.”

“You can't do that!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ginny all but purred, “I can and I will. You're my child, living in my house and you will abide by my rules.”

“You're worse than he is!” Liam screeched, standing up and starting unsteadily towards the doorway.

“And I'm just getting started. Sit down!” He automatically sat down in the face of her Weasley temper. “First off, for the rest of the summer, you will be in this house by 9 p.m.”

“What? You can't do!” he shrieked

“Do you want to make it eight?” She stood over him, hands on her hips.

“That's unfair!”

“You should have thought about that before being dragged home by an Auror at 2 a.m.!”

“It was Uncle Ron for Merlin's sake!” he proclaimed in defense.

“Yes, thankfully it was your Uncle Ron who came to your rescue. I shudder to think what might have happened had it been someone else!”

“Nothing would have happened, Mother.”

“Nothing?” Ginny asked incredulously. “You think nothing could have happened? At the very least your Prefect status could be revoked.”

“No,” he said slowly, shaking his head in disbelief. “That can't happen!”

“Oh yes, for the conduct unbecoming of a student and worse yet, if a big deal is made of this and Ministry gets involved, you could be expelled from school!”

“Uncle Ron wouldn't let that happen!”

“Unfortunately, he might not have much of a choice depending on how many people you woke up last night when you took that tumble through Mr. McGregor's garden.”

“Oh yeah,” Liam moaned, rubbing his shoulder, “I'd almost forgotten about that.”

“You took out a fence.”

He paled. “A fence? No wonder why I feel like hell.”

“Yes, you caught your broom in a rabbit hole when you hit the ground and you went end over end apparently through his garden, or at least that is what Mr. McGregor said he saw after he was rudely awoken by a loud clatter. He is livid that you destroyed his prized garden and didn't kill any of the rabbits in the process. He was here at first light to demand compensation for his losses and return your broom. Needless to say, your father not pleased,” she told him.

“My broom?” he whispered; eyes closing as his lips moved in silent prayer. “Please tell me my broom is okay.”

Liam's broom had been custom made in Italy by one of the finest broom-makers in the world. Long handled, sleek and painted deep forest green with a diamond-hard finish, silver stirrups and black twigs, the broom was ideal for racing. It left the latest Firebolt model in the dust when going head-to-head. In other words, the perfect broom for a Seeker. It had set his father back more Gaellons than even he cared to admit. And Liam very nearly cried with joy when he had unwrapped the last of his birthday presents nearly three weeks prior.

It pained Ginny to dump the shattered pieces of wood on the table, knowing the anguish that it would cause her son, but there was no way around the truth of the matter. “Liam,” she urged softly.

He picked up the longest intact piece of the handle, examining it carefully. “Da isn't happy.”

“I would say that is an understatement.”

“He wants to murder me.”

“The only thing holding him back is he's too lazy to dispose of your body and come up with a plausible alibi for your absence.”

He snorted, reminding her of just how much he was like his father he really was. “I should consider myself lucky then.”

“You should.”

“I will just have to use my old broom.”

“You can't,” she stated simply.

“Why ever not?”

“Because Murphy will be using it,” Ginny explained.

“He has his own broom.”

“Yes, and that broom was given to Griffin to learn on. Your old broom is now Murphy's.”

“Well, I need it back,” Liam said prickly.

“No, it's Murphy's broom now. You had a brand new broom.”

“Yes, and I can't use it now.” He picked up a shattered piece of handle and shook it at her. “I need my old broom.”

Ginny crossed her arms and glared at Liam, trying very hard to quell the urge to strangle him. “And you received a new broom for your birthday.”

“And it's ruined beyond repair,” he hissed; his eyes narrowing as he gave her a dark stare.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Don't you want me to win the Quidditch Cup this year? Our chances are excellent!”

“Of course, we want you to win, sweetheart. Why do you think your father selected the best broom money could buy?”

“You just want Gryffindor to win,” he hissed bitterly, his lips twisted into a cruel Malfoy sneer.

“Don't you dare get cheeky with me, young man. Do you really think I would have allowed your father to buy you the best broom on the market if I was conspiring against you so Gryffindor would win the Cup? This is no one's fault but your own.”

“How am I supposed to play Quidditch without a broom?”

“Well, the way I see it,” Ginny drawled slowly in an uncanny mimic of her husband's most irritating trait, “you have two choices.”

Liam gave her a skeptical look. She knew exactly what he was thinking: the only obvious outcome was his parents buying him a replacement broom, and soon. “And they are?”

“You can do without or work to earn the money to buy a replacement.” She watched him carefully as her words sank into his alcohol addled brain. Ginny knew she had to make a stand. No matter how angry Draco was at their son, he would eventually cool off, and the first thing he'd do would be to order a replacement broomstick.

“What?” he spluttered.

“You heard me.”

“You can't be serious! Do without?”

“You can earn the money to buy a new broom.”

Her son looked completely aghast at the suggestion. “You can't possibly be serious!”

“Actually, I am and starting right now, the spoiling stops before your father and I ruin you beyond all repair. You have no respect for the things you have now as it is. Maybe if you work hard and earn it, you will take of your things better.” Ginny put her hand comfortingly on her son's stiff back. “I don't blame you, sweetheart. This is completely our fault.”

“Have you cleared this with Da?” The frantic look in Liam's eyes gave her a little inner-thrill. Just maybe she'd get through to him.

“I don't have to clear anything with your father,” she told him in her mostly sickly sweet voice. “He will agree to anything I say.”

“I'll never be able to afford to replace my broom!”

“Afraid not, but if you work hard, you should be able to afford this year's Nimbus model or maybe even the Firebolt.”

Liam hid his face in his hands. “Mother, need I remind you, I don't have a job,” he spit out the last word as if it was acid burning his mouth.

“Not to worry! I've already got a little something lined up for you this morning.”

“This morning? I don't think I'm quite up to it this morning.”

“Au contraire, you didn't think I would allow your little stunt last night to ruin our day? You are going to the Burrow to pull weeds and de-gnome the garden for your grandmother while we take your sister to the zoo.”

“The Burrow?” he uttered, sheer horror plainly etched upon his fine Malfoy features.

“Mum said she'd be happy to keep you busy all day while we're in London. She will be paying you for your work or, me in actuality. I will be holding all the money you earn so you don't add to it from your savings. I meant it when I said you had to earn the money for a broom.”

He looked defeated. “One day at the Burrow isn't going to earn me enough to replace my broom.”

“No,” Ginny said with a wicked smile, “that is why you'll be keeping Percy's boys on Friday night, Charlie's youngest two on Saturday night, and helping the twins do inventory on Sunday.”

“You're trying to kill me,” he groaned.

“A little hard work never killed anyone, Liam.”

“I wish Da had punished me instead of you.”

“You had your chance, but you just had to get cheeky with him so now you're stuck with me.”

“Can I have a hangover potion before I go over there then?”

“No, now hurry along and wash up before I take you over there. And when you get home, you will be apologizing to your father and me for your behavior this morning. You should have plenty of time today to give what you've done wrong some long and hard thought.”

He looked like he wanted to start a row, but thought better of it, opting instead to shuffle off upstairs, all the while muttering under his breath. Ginny thought it was probably best for Liam's health that she not try to decipher his words.

< - > - < - > - < - > - < - > - < - > - < - >

She took her time changing Rauri's outfit, choosing a rose bud print sleeveless smock dress and little white sandals. She carefully tamed her baby's golden red curls into two little pigtails, complete with pink ribbons to match. All of her frustrations with her eldest child melted away as she went about one of her favorite tasks. Having a baby girl was so much more fun than having baby boys.

“Are you ready to go see Da?” she cooed.

Rauri immediately brightened at the mention of her father. “Dadadadadadada,” she babbled happily.

“You, my princess pea, are shameless.” Ginny set her daughter down, taking her by her hands and allowing her to toddle the way to Draco's study.

After she'd had the chance to calm down, she discovered she wasn't so much angry at her husband as she was disappointed in how things had gone earlier that morning. She couldn't blame him for his reaction to Liam since the boy had insisted upon being cheeky and her own fingers had itched to wrap themselves around her son's long, slender neck. This incident just played right into Draco's fear that his sons would turn into the type of person he was at their age. They would discuss what had happened later on after the rest of the family had been tucked away in bed for the evening. He would need assurance that he was a good father and she would have to explain Liam was just being a typical teenage boy.

She kept the baby from barging right in when they reached the door to Draco's study. “No, I wouldn't do that, if I were you,” she said, picking Rauri up and settling her on her hip. “Da still might be a bit of a dragon and I don't want you to get burnt. A burnt up baby is no fun for Mummy. It makes you all cranky and we don't like a cranky baby, nuh uh. Mummy loves happy Rauri, yes she does.”

She opened the door slightly, taking in the scene before deciding whether or not it was safe to enter. Draco was sitting at his enormous desk scribbling on a piece of parchment; he was still looking a bit thunderous.

“Knock, knock,” she said by way of announcing their presence. A deep grumble was his only response. “I have someone here who desperately wants to see her Da.”

His mood lightened immensely at the sight of Rauri with out stretched arms.

“Is it safe?” Ginny asked warily, stepping into the distinctly masculine room with its leather furniture, enormous mahogany desk, crystal decanters of Firewhisky on a marble topped table in one corner, and deep green oriental rug. Everything about the room said Draco, down to the dragon figures interspersed with the books on the shelves. It was her favorite room in the house.

“Of course it's safe for my two favorite witches,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking smug.

The baby grabbed her father's face with both hands as soon as they got close enough to him, showering him in kisses. Ginny just handed her over to Draco because there was simply no use in even trying to pretend that she could keep father and daughter apart when Rauri was in a kiss-y mood. She couldn't help but smile to herself at the sight them together. Despite all his protestations to the contrary, he was naturally a good father who loved his children more than anything.

She settled in her husband's lap after Rauri abandoned him to go play with the cat who mistakenly thought she might catch a quiet nap in the mid-morning sunshine streaming through the tall windows of the study. Ginny wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close and burying her face in his neck as she tried to put the morning's unpleasantness out of her mind. He pressed soft kisses against her shoulder, neck and face on his way to claiming her mouth.

"Oh, Gin," he exclaimed softly, brushing his lips tenderly across the apple of her cheek, causing her to flinch slightly. "You've a bruise."

“It's all right,” she mumbled as she tried to distract him with kisses.

“No,” he said, pulling back, “it's not all right. This is my fault.” He whispered healing spells between each feather kiss he placed on her injured flesh, finishing with a soft “I love you.”

She rubbed noses with him after he pulled away. “I love you, too.”

"I'm sorry that our day out is ruined," he said, sounding very contrite between attempts to snog her.

“It's not.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh.” She gave in to attempts right then, returning his kisses until she left him breathless.

He nuzzled her neck, his hand sliding underneath her knee length silk skirt. “I thought we'd foist the children off on some unsuspecting relative and we'd spend the rest of the day in bed.”

Ginny managed to untangle herself from Draco just enough to regain some of her hazy senses. “As delicious as that sounds, Rauri desperately wants to go to the zoo to see the bears and we did promise the boys a trip to Muggle London for shopping.”

“And she told you this?”

“Uh huh, she did. She also wants to see about the giant bunnies in the petting zoo,” she said, nodding her head.

“Gin, she just learnt how to say cat.”

“Fine, a mother knows what her baby wants.”

She felt Draco's whole body immediately stiffen. “Well, I am not leaving Liam at home alone to get up to Merlin knows what while we're away.”

“What do you plan to do with him then?”

“I've been too angry to figure that out just yet, but I do know he's not going to lounge about in bed all day.”

“Well, then, today is your lucky day!”

“What do you mean?” he asked warily.

“I've sentenced him to a day of hard labor,” she said with wicked grin.

“What did you do to my son?”

Ginny recounted the punishment she laid out for their eldest child in detail, finishing with, “And he looked liked he was about to cry when I left him with Mum.”

“I would've been about to cry, too,” he said, nuzzling her neck again. “You, my dear, are wickedly cruel and I don't think I've ever found you as desirable as I do right now.”

She giggled when his lips pressed against a particularly sensitive spot. “You are so silly.”

“I honestly don't know how you escaped being sorted into Slytherin.”

“Could you imagine a female Weasley in Slytherin?” she chuckled. “I would have stood out like a weed in a rose garden!”

“And what a lovely weed you would have made.” He brushed a kiss against the corner of her mouth.

She stopped his hand before it could snake any further up her thigh. “I do believe you are trying to seduce me, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Oh, I don't know,” she said wryly, tugging his hand out from under her skirt.

“Well, it's not my fault that you're so beautiful that I have trouble keeping my hands off of you!”

“It's a good thing I do love you.”

“A very good thing indeed.”

“You'd be forever in trouble.”

He flashed a most wicked grin just before giving her arse a firm pinch. “Then you'd have no choice but to punish me!”

“Draco!” she admonished, giggling.

“DA!” a tiny, plainly impatient voice sounded from beside the desk.

“Yes, princess,” he answered obediently, nearly shoving Ginny out of his lap to make way for the little redheaded girl demanding his attention. He took the little silver dragon figurine she'd nicked from the table near the fireplace from her proffered hand before helping her into his lap. “Did you bring Da a dragon?”

Rauri nodded enthusiastically, giving him big, sloppy kiss. “Da Da Da!”

“Da loves his baby girl, yes he does!”

Ginny crossed her arms over chest and feigned indignity. “Well, I see where I stand when a younger witch comes along.”

He stood up, positioning the baby on his hip so he could wrap his free arm around her. “Oh, Gin Gin, are you jealous?”

“You wish,” she muttered, stiffening as he tried to pull her closer.

“Awwah, don't be that way. You will always be my first love.”

A firm tugging on her blouse got her attention. Rauri was trying her best to pull her closer. “What, baby?” she asked, running her fingers over the little girl's soft cheek.

“I think she wants us to kiss,” Draco offered in the way of an explanation for their daughter's actions.

She had to smile at his obvious attempts to get in one more snog. “You think?”

“I do, and I don't think we should keep her waiting.”

“Mmm,” Ginny purred, biting her bottom lip and enjoying the dark, glazed look in his eyes, “but only if I must.”

“You must,” he mumbled, swooping in to plunder her mouth and render her knees weak. The baby squealed her delight and clapped her hands.

Ginny broke off the kiss before she sacked the idea of a trip to Muggle London altogether to drag her husband upstairs so she could spend the rest of the day having her wicked way with him. “We should be going before it gets too crowded,” she insisted, straightening her outfit and avoiding his eyes.

“All right,” he said, capturing her hand in his and pulling it to his lips.

“We can still salvage a good day out of this.”

“It's all your fault, you know,” he mused, as he followed her through the atrium.

She stopped dead in her tracks. “My fault? How in the world is it my fault Liam sneaked out of the house in the middle of the night to see some tart, got drunk, and was dragged home by Ron at two in the morning?”

“Easy,” he explained, “it's your fault because you didn't get the Malfoy out of him. If he'd been a bit more Weasley this would have never happened.”

“Oh, like that would have been any better,” she snorted. “If he'd been more Weasley, not only would have he have done what he did, but there would have been an explosion and someone would have lost an eye.”

Perverse joy spread through her chest as she watched her husband's eyes grow wide with the recollection of a fateful pub crawl with her brothers a few years back. The far garden was just now recovering from the scorch marks left by a spectacular fireworks that sent the (thankfully unoccupied) gardener's quarters up in flames and Charlie very nearly ended up having to do his own personal rendition of Mad-Eye Moody with his an eye-patch all his own. It was only because of her quick actions and that cute male Healer (that made Draco terribly jealous when he flirted with her) that saved her brother from that awful fate.

“Maybe Liam's perfect just how he is,” Draco finally conceded.

“I wouldn't say perfect…”

“He is a Malfoy, therefore he's perfect.”

“Uh huh,” Ginny muttered, knowing better than her husband of their son's shortcomings. And they said mothers were blind.

“Little girls are way better than little boys,” he bounced the baby on his hip, making her giggle; “especially a pretty little princess who looks just like her beautiful mummy.”

“Uh huh, Rauri might seem easy now, but just you wait until she's older.”

Draco rubbed noses with his daughter. “You wouldn't do anything to give your old Da gray hair now would you, Rauri bunny?”

“Wait until she starts getting interested in little wizards.”

“That will never happen!”

“Uh huh, no matter how much you want to deny it.”

“She will not! She will remain my perfect, precious, sweet baby girl forever!”

“Even when she's sixteen and throwing parties while we're away for the weekend?”

“Even then! She'll be perfect, just like you were!”

“And you do remember what I was getting up to when I was sixteen?” Ginny reminded him. She had been very far from perfect at that age - sneaking around on her boyfriend to snog a boy, an enemy even, from another house. She wasn't exactly proud of how she'd acted back then, but contrary to her son's misguided belief, she hadn't been shagging her husband. She wasn't that kind of girl.

A look of sheer horror crossed her husband's face since he had been the instigator of a good deal of her less than ladylike behavior back then. He looked at the tiny redhead in his arms; a look of grave concern clouded his features. “No,” he said firmly.

“No, you don't remember? Because, if I recall correctly, you were desperate to get in my knickers-”

“I am well aware of my actions, thank you very much!”

“Are you sure?” she teased. “I'm sure I remember a few things you might have forgotten…”

He glared at Ginny a moment before returning his attention back to the baby. “Da's baby isn't going to break his heart, are you? Nuh huh. No ickle boys for Rauri! Isn't that right, princess?”

“Da Da Da,” she cooed.

“That's my baby girl! Are you going to be my little girl forever?”

Rauri tipped her head back, looking expectantly at her father for kisses.

“Sealed with a kiss!” Draco said before showering her in butterfly kisses.

“And just how do you expect to keep “ickle” boys away from her?”

He grinned cheekily at her. “By locking her away in a tower, of course, that is until I find a wizard worthy of her hand in marriage.”

“You just have this all worked out don't you?”

“Well, I haven't given it much though before now, but I think it's a flawless plan.”

“You do, do you?”

“I do,” he said with a smirk.

Ginny smiled triumphantly at him. There was one major problem with his plan to lock their daughter away forever and ever to keep her away from boys. “Do you realize we don't have a tower, right?”

“Not to worry,” he said, taking his wife's hand again. “I plan on Flooing a stonemason first thing tomorrow.”

Notes:

1. Written for Sevedra who won my difficult lyric meme way back when. She had three requirements: set in a kitchen, an argument and ripped clothing. I have hopefully satisfied her requirements even if I managed to avoid the smut she was so obviously trying to lead me towards.

1. Thanks to nokomis305 as always for being my faithful beta reader and for being just an all around delightful friend.

1. And finally, dragonsangel68 for the always useful plot, summary and title discussions. She always knows everything.

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Title The Tale of the Pushy Bint
Name of Volunteer: rainpuddle13
Name of Requester: maniacalmuse
Challenge: A Murphy ficlet! I'm dying of curiosity on how he got together with Meredith, and what strings (if anything) that manipulative wench of a Stephie pulled in regards to them :D
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Word count: 1868
Characters/Ships: Liam, Lucy Ann, Murphy, Stephie, Mere, Gareth
Warnings (if applicable): language
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: With friends like these, who the hell needs enemies?

The Tale of the Pushy Bint

Liam threw his quill down on the table, making a show of stretching his long legs out as far as they would go and arching his back exaggeratedly. He needed a break from his Potions assignment. They'd only been in the library working on it for the past four hours at Murphy's insistence.

“Only your uncle would give us a ridiculous assignment three days before Christmas hols,” his best friend said with a sneer, breaking the silence of their immediate table. Hushed whispers and the scratching of quills ruled the cavernous room.

“For the last time, he's not my uncle. I'm not even related to him, technically speaking!” Liam said in his own defense. Ever since he'd started school, he found he had to defend himself from the attacks of his housemates who thought they would get a free ride in Potions because his `uncle' would let him, therefore them too, slide. If anything, Severus Snape demanded more from him, and thusly his unfortunate classmates, than he did of his other Potions classes just to prove that he was not showing favoritism.

“Will he be at the dinner table Christmas night?” Murphy asked, giving him that know-it-all look.

“You know he will be,” he sighed.

“Then he's family.”

“Not everyone who puts a foot under my mother's dining room table is family!” Liam cried, a little too loudly, causing the gaggle of witches two tables over to glance at him and start giggling.

“You could have fooled me,” the dark-haired boy said with a smirk.

He gave his best friend a playful shove. “Just because she took in one stray puppy-”

“Are you calling me a dog?”

“If the shoe, err, bone fits!”

Murphy made a sour face at him, before stating, “So that means Lucy Ann is a dog!”

“No,” Liam drawled slowly. “Lucy Lulu is a goose. Only you are a dog.”

“You wound me,” he cried dramatically, putting his hand over his heart. “And I thought you were my best friend.”

Liam sat up ramrod straight, hitting Murphy's arm to get his attention then pointing towards a table of third years across the way. “Baddock.”

Any jovialness dried up immediately. Gareth had been subjected to merciless ribbing by a gangly Slytherin boy by the name of Justin Baddock who was a year older. Liam refused to step in, firmly believing that Gareth should make the stand for himself; however, he always kept a watchful eye on the situation to make it didn't spiral out of control. He was ready at a moment's notice to come down hard on the little bastard with his rather large seventh year, Head Boy foot. It hadn't escaped Liam's notice that Lucy Ann was also keeping a close eye on the situation from her position two tables away.

“I'm going to kill that smarmy little arsehole before the year is out,” Liam ground out as he slumped back in chair after the boy in question had moved on without a word to his brother.

“He's not worth the dragon shite on the bottom of your Uncle Charlie's boots,” Murphy said.

“Yeah, I know, but I just wish Gareth would deal with him already.”

“You and me both, but you know how slow his anger is to burn.”

Liam caught the pointed look Stephie was giving him over top of the bent heads of her compatriots. “Huh-huh,” he said as casually as possible, giving her curt nod. “What's the rush with the essay any way? It's not due until we return from hols.”

“I don't want to waste my holiday writing a Potions essay.” Murphy picked up his quill after finding a relevant passage in the thick, dusty tome and began scribbling.

“Got a hot date then huh?” Liam needled, knowing good and well he didn't.

The glare his best mate leveled at him could have frozen the naughty bits off of Voldemort, but Stephie's appearance saved him from near certain death. She sat in the chair next to Murphy, plucking his quill away before leaning back and crossing her legs.

“So what are you boys talking about?” she asked brightly, a Cheshire cat smile gracing her full lips.

“Homework,” Murphy said sullenly.

“Who he's taking to Sloane Peterson's party,” Liam volunteered helpfully.

“So, Murphy Wurphy,” she purred, “just who are you taking to Sloane Peterson's party?”

He tried to snatch is favorite quill away from the witch sitting next to him, but she was quite adept at keep it away from him. Upon his resignation of his failure to recapture his quill, he gave up in order to glare at Liam. “No one!”

She looked completely aghast at the notion that anyone would pass up a party, especially the first major social event of the new year. “Well, we'll just have to remedy that.”

Liam knew just how determined Stephie really was in her pursuit to play matchmaker for their mutual friend. She had cornered him on more than one occasion to pump him for information concerning which witches tickled the elusive Mr. Anderson's fancy. Liam, being the good friend that he was, tried to be as uncooperative as possible. That is, until Stephie blackmailed him with something very naughty, forever cementing her reputation as an evil bint in his book. And of course, he meant that in nicest possible way.

“You should be more worried about who Liam's escorting,” Murphy curtly informed her, bending once more over his homework.

“Lucy Ann,” she said without missing a beat. It was difficult for Liam to contain his snort; as if that was going throw her off the trail. She was worse than a niffler after a gold piece. “Yes, I know, we've already picked out her robes. They're midnight blue by the way, Liam, so you need to get a light colored corsage with midnight blue and silver ribbons. Wear your charcoal formal robes because you look so handsome in them. I'm wearing deep ruby red with silver accents. Mere…” Murphy's head shot up at the mention of the dark blonde witch, and Stephie could barely suppress her smile. “Mere had wanted to wear deep forest green, but alas, she has no one to go with…”

“Well,” Liam chimed in right on cue, enjoying the panicked look on his friend's face, “then it's settled. Murphy will take her!”

“Oh, I don't know,” Stephie drawled slowly. “I'd have to take that offer back to the girls to see what they say.” She gave them a saucy wink before flouncing off to confer with the two witches who had not so covertly watched the proceedings with rapt attention. They immediately bowed their heads together and began whispering.

“I hate you, you know,” Murphy said without any malice.

“I know,” Liam replied. “I hate you too.”

“What on earth does she have on you?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked.

“Was it the two Ravenclaws in the Room of Requirement? You know the ones with the…” Murphy teased, making salacious gestures with his hands.

“No!” he cried quickly; a little too quickly apparently because his friend gave him a knowing smile.

“Maybe I should tell her why you're taking Lucy Ann instead…” his supposed best mate said leadingly.

“Because I don't want her evening ruined by that arsehole Ravenclaw, Frye?”

“Cameron's a nice bloke, but a bit of a rake maybe.”

“Just a bit?” If anyone had a worse reputation with the witches of Hogwarts than he, Liam Malfoy, it was definitely Cameron Frye. The tall, brown-haired, seventh year wizard had blazed a trail through the hearts and reputations of the witches of Hogwarts, and recently, he'd set his sights on Lucy Ann. It would be a cold day in hell before he would allow that to happen to his best friend.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” Murphy said, giving in.

“That's what I thought,” Liam stated smugly.

“And the most important reason: because you secretly love her!” Murphy said sing-songy.

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

“She's just a friend!”

Murphy was obviously enjoying his squirming. “Denial doesn't change the facts.”

“Yeah, well, you're in love with Mere so HA!” Liam said triumphantly.

“At least I own up to it.” Murphy smiled.

Liam sneered. “Well, why don't you do something about it?”

“Why don't you do something about Lucy Ann?”

“Shhhh!” he shushed quickly as Stephie rose from the table just across the way. “Here she comes.” The dark-haired wizard's mouth snapped shut.

“Boys,” she said dramatically as she sat down, “I took your idea back to the girls and Lucy Ann and I have decided to accept on Mere's behalf.”

Murphy looked somewhat affronted by this notion. “Mere doesn't get a say?”

“Of course she does. We took a vote,” she answered.

“And the verdict?” Liam asked upon the panicked look on his adopted brother's face.

“Unanimous,” she replied without hesitation before launching into lengthy instructions on what he was to wear, how he was supposed to style his hair, what kind of flowers to bring; finishing with, “We will be at my house since Mere lives too far way and Lucy Ann's mother is a royal pain in the arse. The Portkey activates at nine sharp. Do not be late.”

“Pushy bint,” Murphy uttered as she walked away.

“Get used to it,” Liam sighed. “This is just a preview of what marriage is like.”

“Then I swear off marriage.”

“We probably won't have a choice, you know?”

“Probably not,” Murphy agreed solemnly.

“We'll just be told when and where to show up.”

“If we balk, they'll send in Stephie to bully us to altar.”

“Probably, and I don't know about you, but she frightens me a bit,” Liam admitted.

“I guess it's just easier that way,” Murphy mused. “No thought required.”

It wasn't really all that surprising to him that Murphy would give in so easily to the witches that seemed to overrun their lives. Liam had known about Murphy's crush on the cute Mere for over a year, and found it frustrating that he “didn't want to mess up the group dynamics” to do something about it. Despite the fact that he was a notorious flirt, his best mate had issues with the opposite sex, much of which stemmed from being raised in a household where his parents couldn't stand to be in the same room. To say that his mum was a frigid bitch (as Liam's own mother referred her when her Irish charge was out of earshot) was an understatement.

“There isn't a witch alive that is going to bully me into anything I don't want to do!” Liam proclaimed.

“Not even Lucy Ann?”

“She has no power over me!”

“Those are bold words, my friend,” Murphy said in awe.

“Damn right! One of us has to make a stand!” Liam cried.

Murphy snorted. “I suggest you get that essay done because you know that all of our free time will be monopolized by the girls until after the party, then we're right back at school.”

He sighed, reaching for the thick tome on medicinal herbs he'd discarded earlier. Only a foot and a half more parchment to go. “I suppose you're right,” he muttered, inking his quill and getting back to work.

~*~

Author's Note:

This was originally posted as part of a ficathon over on livejournal.

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