Chips & Vinegar

LaydeLyra

Rating: G
Genres: Humor
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 6
Published: 11/02/2007
Last Updated: 11/02/2007
Status: in_progress

Ginny just wants someone who understands. Short little plot bunny allowed to see the light.

Chapters

1. Chips & Vinegar

1. Chips & Vinegar

A/N: Well, I know I should really be working on Variations, but considering the positive response I had to Nervous, I decided another one-shot couldn’t hurt. This is actually a plot bunny from Variations that took on a life of it’s own as a little drabble. At this point, it’s a ONE-SHOT, but please, if you have an idea of a scene you’d like to see, I’m totally willing to go for a series. Oh, and it’s unbeta-d at this point, so please let me know if you see any glaring problems. Also, I know it’s short. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

CHIPS & VINEGAR

As she entered the pub, Ginny Weasley didn’t even hesitate to make a bee-line for her partner and sometimes friend, Draco Malfoy. Draco didn’t even look up from his book and coffee as she sat and huffily ordered fish and chips from the flustered waitress.

It was her second heavy sigh that finally drew a reaction.

“What’s crawled into your knickers?” It was not quite the reaction she wanted.

“Oh, nothing, just not the best day is all.” She was aiming for nonchalance, but it seemed that pouty is really what she got.

After a few minutes of the redhead’s morose glaring, Draco sighed and put down his book just as her food arrived.

“You’re upset about something, and somehow it’ll all be my fault if you don’t just come out and say whatever you want to make sure I know.”

Ginny grabbed the malt vinegar from the sideboard, next to the ketchup, and began aggressively shaking it onto her plate. Draco raised an eyebrow and speculatively watched the woman across from him. This silent action was immediately followed by Ginny viciously dipping a hapless chip into the solution and chomping down on said chip hard enough that Draco’s own teeth ached in sympathy.

Sighing again, he moved his own plate to the side and folded his hands in front of himself on the table. He looked at her speculatively, “So, why’d you break it off with Creevey, then?”

Ginny’s head jerked up from her plate and she blinked at him owlishly. “How’d you know I broke up with Collin?”

“He sent about half a dozen roses and some caramel chocolates to the office. I thought they were quite good, but I figured you wouldn’t want them.”

“Why’d you figure I didn’t want them?” Her tone of voice clearly indicated that she was looking for some sort of fight.

His eyebrow rose higher on his forehead. “Because last time a recently departed boyfriend sent you a candy I knew you didn’t like, you threw them at my head. And aimed a couple of hexes to make sure I got the point.”

“You think you know everything, don’t you, Malfoy?”

Okay, never let it be said he wasn’t willing to antagonize a friend in need. “I think you’re an open book, Weasley. Your lot has never been what the civilized world would call subtle about emotions.”

Draco carefully schooled his face so that he didn’t laugh… she actually just growled. “You don’t know anything about me or my family, Malfoy. Don’t you dare speak of my lot if you care to retain the ability to have heirs to that great mausoleum and cruel, cold-hearted legacy you call home and family.”

Draco had long since learned that there was no sense in getting angry with her when she insulted his family. It would only be a matter of moments before her brain processed what she had said and she began to feel guilty. Draco didn’t have such qualms, and continually congratulated himself that he didn’t have that silly Gryffindor sentimentality and guilt.

Right on cue, she slumped in her seat and looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “I’m sorry.” It was barely more than a whisper, but he knew she meant it and he nodded.

“So why’d you toss the git over?” Ginny had long since ceased trying to get him to refer to either her boyfriends or her brothers by their names. She actually took it a sign of how much he liked them that he referred to Bill solely as “the Curse-breaker” and Charlie as “the Dragon-tamer”. Ron was mostly “wanker”, but she didn’t necessarily hold that against him… after all, it was Ron who was still trying to carry on a basically one-sided feud.

“I thought you knew everything.” She answered sulkily.

Draco nodded sagely. “You were tired of him being a dense prat, right? All you want is someone to understand you and instead all you get is a blighter like me who you don’t even always like, but even I know your habits and this person who’s supposed to love you can’t even figure out what type of candy you like.” It was a well memorized reasoning for her break-ups. After all, it had been the end of Harry, Dean, Seamus, and one or two others that he didn’t much care to remember. Being the youngest of seven had not left Ginny Weasley much able to forgive those who completely overlooked the fact that she was both female and more than just Weasley.

She blinked at him again and he braced himself for the tirade, he hadn’t yet figured out how to circumvent this particular part of the discussion. “How hard is that? I don’t think I’m that difficult, even if I can be picky sometimes. Don’t I deserve it? Don’t I deserve someone who knows that I like curry sauce, not ketchup or vinegar, with my chips? That Shepard’s Pie is my favorite food because it’s Mum’s specialty. That my favorite pair of shoes are the boots Charlie sent me from Romania. My favorite place in the whole world is the clearing with the Peter Pan statue in Hyde Park. That I favor chocolate only when it’s got fruit with it, especially raspberries; and I only like dark chocolate with cherries. And that—that—“ Her speech had been gradually increasing in passion as well as volume, and Draco felt it was time to cut in, now that she had stopped for a brief breath.

“That you have curry sauce when you’re in a good mood; vinegar when you’re in a temper; and ketchup and mustard sauce when you’re homesick, because that’s how your Dad likes them.”

Ginny collapsed onto the table, throwing her head down to the side of the plate she was now glaring whole-heartedly at, before shifting her gaze to the man across from her. “How is it that you know anything about it? It’s not fair, you’re just a big prat who still qualifies as my almost-nemesis.”

When he raised another questioning eyebrow, she explained, “You can hardly be my actual nemesis after you’ve saved the lives of members of my family and myself.”

Shrugging, he decided to let that particular subject drop. “Yes I am, but I watch people, Weasley. Besides, I noticed the mustard thing when it became apparent that if I did not immediately take you home, you’d go there yourself in a fit and your brother would come on a tear over to me because he still figures there’s no one else who’s going to make you cry.” He paused and thought for a moment, ignoring the way she was still, half-heartedly now, stabbing her chips into a potatoey pulp in the vinegar on her plate. “Plus, when I take you home, your Mum always thanks me, calls me a ‘nice boy’, and makes sure I get some of whatever home cooked meal she made for the rest of you lot that night. It’s a sight better than calling me a Death Eater and telling me to go eat trash, like the rest of the world.”

Now they were both scowling at the poor potatoes on Ginny’s plate. Draco, however, brightened considerably when another memory came upon him, “Last time I was there, she even swatted your wanker of a brother with her spoon when he tried to take seconds before I got any.”

“You talk too much, Malfoy.”

“Yes, well, if I didn’t you’d just spend the time railing at me for not saying anything.”

He was already picking up their coats, signaling the waitress, and pulling her out of the booth when she turned her now watery gaze on him, starting to reach for the ketchup.

“Do you suppose they have any mustard?”