Sweet Champagne wrote Conquering the Duck for madamepuddifoot
Title: Conquering the Duck
Author: Sweet Champagne
Rating: PG-13
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: -
Summary: Nothing stops a woman from getting what she wants.
Beta:My friend, bubblegummm
On a stormy Friday evening, Ginny trudged into the penthouse of 43 Huntington Avenue. Large dollops of raindrops pattered against the window as she shrugged off her trenchcoat and set off in search of Draco Malfoy, her boyfriend of nine months.
She was especially hasty to reach Draco tonight because last night, the two of them got talking in between sips of sweet blush wine and he’d admitted that someday he’d like to settle down and have kids. Ginny’d then asked hopefully exactly when he felt like doing just that, and he replied with a teasing smile and two words, “You’ll see.”
Deep down, she hoped and hoped with all her heart that tonight would be That Night. When he’d declare his unconditional love and pop the magical question after brandishing a gleaming gem-encrusted ring.
Her first thought was to search the study, because even though she knew Draco wouldn’t read through any book unless it was work-related or had the title ‘Playwizard’ emblazoned on it and was filled with scantily clad women strutting their anorexic skeletal frames within the moving pictures, he still tried to appear knowledgeable and thus always had a heavy tome on his lap after work, although Ginny figured he was really counting the minutes until she reached home, just so that she could fulfill his latest erotic fantasy.
The musty book-filled room, however, contained no one.
Next on her list was the bedroom. Perhaps he had gotten so bored of straining his miniscule brain to appreciate the ancient art of reading that he’d retreated back into bed. Ginny wondered if his clothes were still on, for there were several occasions when she’d found him naked in bed after she had gotten home from work, fast asleep. He’d claimed that he originally wanted to give her a very pleasant surprise after her shower, but then after waiting for over an hour he’d grown too tired to wait, and hence caved into his want to sleep.
That particular defense induced no guilt from Ginny whatsoever. As if she hadn’t found the Playwizard monthly subscription tucked neatly under his pillow, and hadn’t noticed his slightly sticky hands that were resting very near his uh, area.
But the bedroom was clear as well. The sheets were pressed and folded without a single crease and the pillows lay fluffed and unmoving.
The kitchen. Yes, that was where he’d be.
Over the duration of their relationship, she had gotten to know the real Draco very well (it was quite easy really, because there wasn’t much to learn). There were two things that pleased him the most - food and sex.
And being Draco as well as a Malfoy, he’d settle for nothing less than the best. Ginny sometimes wondered if he dated her for having extraordinary talents at both, and not for herself. But whenever she questioned him about his intentions for picking her as his significant other, he’d answer, “Because I love everything about you” and everything was fine and dandy again. Which if she thought about carefully, didn’t exactly answer her question. And that further emphasized her point that he was either the most evasive man she’d met or just wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
Just as she stepped into the kitchen, a loud squawk shocked her out of her thoughts and caused her head to hit the ceiling. Rubbing her throbbing head at the sore spot, she took a quick glance into the kitchen to make sure it was indeed empty before setting off in the general direction of the noise.
Somehow, a squawk and the Draco she knew didn’t seem to link or click in any manner. Was that the sound he made when he tried to play with himself? She had never been present at any one of those but logically, the sounds emitted would coincide, even slightly, with the sounds he made when they did it together, wouldn’t it? And as far as she could recall, there hadn’t been any squawking or other noises that were remotely bird-related during their moments of ecstasy.
The noise came from the bedroom, that much she could tell. Hadn’t she already been there? She racked her brains for another explanation. Oh, yes. The bathroom.
As she neared the room, she wondered who in the right frame of mind would choose to satiate his needs in the presence of detergent and the smell of chemicals? Did that, God forbid, turn him on? Or maybe he had a particular fetish with linoleum tiles? The possibilities were endless, and yet the sight that met her could not be further from the situations which had run through her rather delirious head.
Draco was there, alright. But he wasn’t alone. She supposed she should be happy the other being wasn’t a prostitute (it was, in fact, a lot uglier than how the average skank looked). Staring straight back at her was a pair of beady eyes, its glaringly orange beak blaring out the less-than-welcoming squawks.
It was hideous. Honestly, after witnessing Draco’s selection of various things, his choice of spreadsheets, food and herself, just to name a few (which she must insist were the crème of the crop in their respective categories), she’d thought he had better taste than that.
It was covered in white feathers and had the same garishly coloured feet. The only thing that stopped Ginny from assuming it was a duck was that its feet weren’t webbed, and that it didn’t have any wings. Instead of where the wings might be, it had a ring of blubber surrounding its torso, which reminded Ginny of a summer when Ron had gotten stuck within his baby float (it didn’t help that there were pastel blue flowers printed on it and he was teased by Fred and George for the length of a week, precisely how long it had taken for Molly Weasley to undo the damage).
“Say hi to Wuzzy, Gin. He’s an amphiboduck!” gushed Draco as he noticed her.
Ginny decided the gushing was quite unbecoming on Draco, and scrunched up her face in disgust, “What is it?”
“He, not it,” said Draco drying off Wuzzy as it shook off water droplets which landed just about everywhere, including on Ginny’s nose.
Irked by the strange creature’s mere presence, she sat on the edge of the bathtub gingerly. When Draco finished wiping down Wuzzy, she pulled him into a deep kiss. It would’ve lasted longer had the bloody duck not set itself the task of poking its annoying beak into Ginny’s back. For such a blunt-looking beak, its jabs hurt an awful lot.
It suddenly occurred to her that That Night might be postponed to a later date, thanks to a certain thing butting in. Forget the proclamation of unequivocal love, forget the mind-blowing sex with Draco afterward, it was going to be a miserable night.
-
The couple ate a late dinner, and Draco seized the chance to gloat about his new pet (Ginny glumly prodded her steak, occasionally glancing at the duck to shoot it a menacing stare. Obviously, she was a perfect example why women should never be messed with whenever an obstacle deterred them from their ultimate goal, in this case, a goal vital to her womanhood - marriage.
It seemed that the amphiboduck was the newest and coolest pet to have. A thing to fiddle with when bored.
“Wuzzy was the first to be supplied to the emporium, and I got him,” boasted Draco, his face shining with pride and smugness.
"There was a crowd of kids on my way in, and they parted like the Red Sea when I exited once they saw me carrying Wuzzy.”
Ginny inwardly rolled her eyes.
“I swear, I’m like a Zeus to kids. They all want Wuzzy because of his astonishing ability to run, hop and wade. How cool is that, huh! Sort of beats Pothead with his pathetic new endorsement of Pygmy Puffs.”
So the duck could wade, eh? That explained the blubber ring. Well, they had to find some way to promote an advantage to being fat.
But somehow, it didn’t appear as cute to her as it did to Draco. Blame her female intuition, or her common sense, but the duck seemed a little evil. Now she only had to prove it before everything would be alright again and she’d get her greatly desired engagement ring.
-
The next morning, Ginny woke up to the same squawk that marked the beginning of an extremely nightmare-ish debacle. Stretching lazily before hopping out of bed, she desperately clinged to the semblance of hope that the ruddy duck was all a dream, and that when she reached the kitchen, she’d find that Draco was … crap, too late.
She blinked forcefully several times, intent on waking up from the nightmare, with no such luck. Sitting across Draco in her seat, was Wuzzy, being fed a few brown-spotted golden brown flat hotcakes.
She recognized the smell immediately. It was her favourite breakfast (and the only breakfast Draco knew how to prepare ever), chocolate chip pancakes drizzled with maple syrup and a generous glob of clotted cream.
It was normally served to her in bed, on the mornings after a long night of lovemaking. Those sessions exhausted her physically and mentally, thus she found it necessary to sleep in til at least past ten on those mornings.
Draco, however, reacted strangely contrary to hers. By some means, sex caused him to be widely awake and prone to engaging in one-sided conversations with Ginny, who by then had probably nodded off to sleep after the immense satiation.
On those morning-afters, especially those after nights loaded with multiple orgasms, Draco rose early and happily, and proceeded on to cooking breakfast for the both of them.
Her preferred way of waking up was closely associated with the scrumptious dish. Draco would rouse her gently from her slumber and alternate between feeding mouthfuls of pancake to her and to himself, all the while edging his other hand up and down her thigh. Often enough, that leaded to another go at it, what with chocolate being an aphrodiasc and all.
The problem with that now was, Draco’s hands were occupied with other tasks at the moment, more specifically, with the bloody duck. It suddenly occurred to Ginny that she was rather jealous of the hideous thing, which was utterly bizarre, seeing as she always thought Draco as the kid in the relationship. As far she would admit, she was seen as the sensible and mature one.
“Morning, Gin,” Draco greeted jovially from the table.
“Morning,” Ginny replied stiffly.
Nodding at the pancakes, Draco explained, “I cooked those for you at first, Wuzzy started sniffing and licking them, so I fed him some, and it turns out that he loves them.”
Ginny had seen that glowing look on Draco before, but it had always been related somehow to her. Be it her ministrations, or her delicious cooking. And now, seeing the look been cast by someone else, or rather, something else, just didn’t cut it. It made her feel the littlest bit pissed.
Play the role of the sweet and demure fiancé and it’ll all go away soon. Ginny breathed in deeply whilst repeating the sentence to herself over and over again inside her head.
She reached for the handle of a small cabinet tucked in the corner, where the pancake mix was, so that she could make herself some.
"There’s no more,” said Draco, as if reading her mind, “Wuzzy’s took up the last portion of the mix.”
Fuming silently, Ginny made herself a cup of double expresso, deliberately clanking the coffee bean tin and steel mug noisily in the process.
So the pudgy thing wanted to make trouble, eh? Well, two could play the game.
-
Showing Draco that Wuzzy was indeed evil proved to be a strenuous and difficult task. For one, the duck always managed to slip out of Ginny’s hands before she could cast a jinx-tracing charm or anti-foul spell on it.
For another, Draco wouldn’t listen to her ramblings because he found the stupid animal far too adorable and innocent to let it be accused of brainwashing his mind or, say, sent as an evil spawn of Voldemort (she thought those were rather good reasons, but for some reason Draco didn’t seem to think so).
So in the afternoon, Ginny decided to get some serious help. From someone who could listen to her problems and analyze them accordingly, before providing a clear solution set for success. Someone with enough logic and knowledge to give a fair judgment on the matter. Someone like, Hermione.
Unfortunately, Hermione’s reaction to Ginny’s dilemma was far from what she’d expected. The first thing emitted from her mouth after hearing about Wuzzy was, “Ooh, I read an article on amphiboducks the other day. Turns out that they’re somewhat like Nifflers, always looking for silver and gold. And when they do find the treasure, they keep it really safely.”
Ginny remembered thinking to herself, “Huh, the annoying thing’s a gold-digger” and telling herself that she childishly wouldn’t inform Draco about this little fact to get back at him for bringing that great dink home. She let Hermione go on for while longer just to humor her, before promptly deciding that the idea to get Hermione’s advice was a total washout. Her best friend had laughed the whole thing with the duck off with strict orders to go home and calmly tell Draco how she felt about Wuzzy.
When Ginny moaned about how she was sure he wouldn’t listen, because she’d already tried telling him that the Clementine-beaked birdlike creature had planted a seed of diabolism in his head, Hermione shot her a look that seemed to ask whether she was serious, and Ginny glumly relented into accepting the fact that Hermione simply wasn’t going to be siding with her, with the sane side.
Dinner was another sore affair. Draco set up a meeting with a business client, so halfway through his pesto chicken fillet, he left the flat after leaving instructions for Ginny to feed Wuzzy.
After much consideration and deliberation the previous night, Ginny had figured that Draco’s vast interest in the duck would wane in time to come, because he was honestly the type of person who looked for short burst of excitement, with no commitment and all that.
The only exceptions in his life were Ginny and Ginny’s most coveted double-fudge chocolate chip and pecan brownies. Those were the only constants in his life, and Ginny dramatically hoped that that wasn’t about to change.
And so, all she had to do was to tolerate the stupid duck and wait for Draco to lose interest in it. In the meantime, she’d be the epitome of a perfect girlfriend - kind, loving and caring. Hence, she opted to try and actually interact with Wuzzy, a feat she’d never choose to take on previously.
Ginny struggled to hand feed Wuzzy for several minutes, before choosing to force the food down its throat by magical means. The monstrosity just would not let her touch or grab it in any way. But when she felt for her wand in the left pocket of her robes, she discovered that it wasn’t there.
‘It had to be at Hermione’s, then,’she thought, as she grasped a handful of Floo powder, Wuzzy’s dinner completely forgotten.
Looking through the many fireplaces, she found Hermione’s. Just as she was about to step in, she noticed her bosom friend chatting with Draco, who had mentioned he would attending a meeting. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, she scanned the scene meticulously. Of course there wouldn’t be anything between them.
Even if Draco wanted to stray (which he wouldn’t, she was utmostly sure he was wrapped tightly around her little finger, well, until the evil duck came along), he’d have gone to find a gangly-legged model or a big-breasted acquaintance. With no offence to Hermione, she didn’t meet any of the criterions.
Ginny edged closer into the fireplace, and took out an Extendable Ear nicked from Fred and George. These little contraptions always came in useful for these sort of things. Within seconds, she could hear every word they were saying.
“So the ring’s at home, but I don’t know how to go about asking,” Draco was saying.
“Draco, like I told you last week, there are so many ways to do it. Take her on a vacation on St Bartes and ask her on the beach, have champagne and strawberries in bed and pop the question then, the possibilities are endless,” rattled Hermione.
Ginny tugged on the Extendable Ear and it rolled up into the skin-colored ball of string, elated with excitement.
So Draco already had the ring, and it was being kept at home. He didn’t know how to ask, so she would make him think of new and inventive ways of doing it. She speculated on whether the duck was halting his plans.
By the time she had showered and was ready for bed, a new plan had formed. It was established that Wuzzy would hold less and less magnetic pull to Draco in the long run, so if she sped things up a bit, it wouldn’t really be wrong, would it? She’d be like, an enzyme. Speeding up a reaction to save time and energy, and to reach the final goal quicker.All in all, if she thought about it, she was committing a good deed.
And so, the next morning she rose bright and early to cook breakfast for Draco. It was Sunday, and she felt like nothing could possibly go wrong today. The eggs benedict was perfect, she charmed Wuzzy’s breakfast to be consumed all in one big gulp without a hassle, and after breakfast she and Draco engaged in a rather languid session of heavy snogging and shagging.
Things started to go down from there, though. After Draco went out to get Wuzzy a proper bed and other necessities, Ginny was left to devise a clever plan to go about bewitching Wuzzy into appearing irksome and irritating to Draco.
She tried Stunning the ruddy duck, but the pudgy animal was quite agile and was able to dodge all her spells. Chasing after it with a chopper around the flat didn’t work either. By the end of the day, Ginny was left tired and hungry, and no closer to her goal than she had two days ago.
The first thing Ginny did on Monday morning was to head for Harry and Hermione’s. Her Plan C was going to go off without a hitch and she needed Harry’s Invisibility Cloak for it.
Her excuse for borrowing it was that she and Draco had agreed to inculcate something new in their sex lives (Harry turned red at that moment and cleared his throat loudly before excusing himself exiting the room), and she thought playing hide-and-seek would be fun to try.
When she came home that night, she received a note from Draco that he’d be out with Blaise for the night, with a promise that he’d make it up to her the moment he reached home.
Clasping her hands in delighted, she was glad for the extra time to put her plan into action. She spreaded the Invisibility Cloak in the middle of the hallway, and placed three freshly cooked chocolate chip pancakes on it. Then, she levitated herself and her broom to sit directly above the cloak and pancakes.
Hopefully, the smell of the food would emanate through the entire flat, to wherever Wuzzy was at the moment. It’d attract him to this spot and when he walked into the Invisibility Cloak, she’d be there to wrap the cloak tightly over his head so he couldn’t get out.
It went flawlessly. Clutching the bundle of cloth and feathers with glee, she reveled in the fact that she could finally move on to the bewitching part of her plan. Casting an Immobilizing Charm on Wuzzy, she proceeded onto taking him out of the cloak.
There was something hard in his stomach area. Patting him reluctantly, curiosity got the better of her and she felt into the wooly sweater Draco had adorned Wuzzy with. It was a velvet box. She gasped as she shrugged the tiny box out of the wool.
Despite smelling like dead feet, the velvet box was priceless all the same. She knew what lay inside before she opened, but that didn’t stop her from gaping at the wonder of the ring.
It was white gold, with intricately woven loops showcasing tiny beads of emeralds. The centerpiece was a diamond as big as a small stone, and the sight of it was breathtaking.
The Immobilized duck forgotten, she stared at the ring for moments after before the sound of a door slamming shut and a familiar interrupted her thoughts.
“Well, you found it, Gin,” said Draco, with a tinge of disappointment.
“It’s so pretty, Draco,” breathed Ginny.
He led her into the living room and she sat down on the couch, still mesmerized by the ring.
“Gin, a year ago when you met me at the Ministry Ball, I was a womanizing git,” he began as he knelt down beside her, “I had several escorts hanging by my arms as I flirted with even more of them. Today, I am still a git, but a changed git. You changed me, Gin. Over the months, I’ve imagined what it would be like to spend my entire life with you, a thought I’ve never even entertained with any other woman. Spending Saturdays in Muggle London, going to the park on Sundays… You’re the best thing in my life, Gin. Marry me.”
Feeling her throat was about to choke up from all the emotions, she murmured, “Yes.”
Just as she leaned in to kiss him though, a squawk distracted her again. Wuzzy, now released from the worn out Immobilizing Charm, was poking both Draco and Ginny in their legs and their ankles. He was trying to reach up for something, and when Ginny put two and two together, she discovered why he was trying to get the ring.
“Amphiboducks are like Nifflers, they’re always looking for silver and gold. And when they do find the treasure, they keep it really safely,” she recited from her memory of Hermione talking about it.
“He’s not going to revert back to his old ways anytime soon, Draco,” she said.
“Unless I give him the ring, which I won’t, because it’s far too pretty to be stuck up some repugnant duck’s arse,” she added.
Draco frowned, clearly not pleased with Wuzzy’s current behaviour.
“We could give him away,” said Ginny a little too brightly, “To Eddie, Harry and Hermione’s son. He’d love it!”
“I was beginning to grow sick of showering Wuzzy,” Draco said carefully.
“Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, the duck leaves for Harry and Hermione’s,” concluded Ginny.
“Why tomorrow? Why not now? He’s nipping at my toe,” Draco whined.
“Because,” Ginny said slowly, “You and I have a date with the bed now.”
She kissed him soundly on the lips, the familiar warm feeling of happiness and elation settling over her. And the rest, they say, is history.
ORIGINAL REQUEST
BRIEFLY describe what you’d like to recieve: fluff/romance/humor/adventure/general
The tone/mood of the fic: light
A theme/element/line of dialogue/object you want in your fic: Draco gets a new pet.
Canon of AU? either
Rating of the fic you want: any!
Deal breakers (what don’t you want): angst
Author: Sweet Champagne
Rating: PG-13
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: -
Summary: Nothing stops a woman from getting what she wants.
Beta:My friend, bubblegummm
On a stormy Friday evening, Ginny trudged into the penthouse of 43 Huntington Avenue. Large dollops of raindrops pattered against the window as she shrugged off her trenchcoat and set off in search of Draco Malfoy, her boyfriend of nine months.
She was especially hasty to reach Draco tonight because last night, the two of them got talking in between sips of sweet blush wine and he’d admitted that someday he’d like to settle down and have kids. Ginny’d then asked hopefully exactly when he felt like doing just that, and he replied with a teasing smile and two words, “You’ll see.”
Deep down, she hoped and hoped with all her heart that tonight would be That Night. When he’d declare his unconditional love and pop the magical question after brandishing a gleaming gem-encrusted ring.
Her first thought was to search the study, because even though she knew Draco wouldn’t read through any book unless it was work-related or had the title ‘Playwizard’ emblazoned on it and was filled with scantily clad women strutting their anorexic skeletal frames within the moving pictures, he still tried to appear knowledgeable and thus always had a heavy tome on his lap after work, although Ginny figured he was really counting the minutes until she reached home, just so that she could fulfill his latest erotic fantasy.
The musty book-filled room, however, contained no one.
Next on her list was the bedroom. Perhaps he had gotten so bored of straining his miniscule brain to appreciate the ancient art of reading that he’d retreated back into bed. Ginny wondered if his clothes were still on, for there were several occasions when she’d found him naked in bed after she had gotten home from work, fast asleep. He’d claimed that he originally wanted to give her a very pleasant surprise after her shower, but then after waiting for over an hour he’d grown too tired to wait, and hence caved into his want to sleep.
That particular defense induced no guilt from Ginny whatsoever. As if she hadn’t found the Playwizard monthly subscription tucked neatly under his pillow, and hadn’t noticed his slightly sticky hands that were resting very near his uh, area.
But the bedroom was clear as well. The sheets were pressed and folded without a single crease and the pillows lay fluffed and unmoving.
The kitchen. Yes, that was where he’d be.
Over the duration of their relationship, she had gotten to know the real Draco very well (it was quite easy really, because there wasn’t much to learn). There were two things that pleased him the most - food and sex.
And being Draco as well as a Malfoy, he’d settle for nothing less than the best. Ginny sometimes wondered if he dated her for having extraordinary talents at both, and not for herself. But whenever she questioned him about his intentions for picking her as his significant other, he’d answer, “Because I love everything about you” and everything was fine and dandy again. Which if she thought about carefully, didn’t exactly answer her question. And that further emphasized her point that he was either the most evasive man she’d met or just wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
Just as she stepped into the kitchen, a loud squawk shocked her out of her thoughts and caused her head to hit the ceiling. Rubbing her throbbing head at the sore spot, she took a quick glance into the kitchen to make sure it was indeed empty before setting off in the general direction of the noise.
Somehow, a squawk and the Draco she knew didn’t seem to link or click in any manner. Was that the sound he made when he tried to play with himself? She had never been present at any one of those but logically, the sounds emitted would coincide, even slightly, with the sounds he made when they did it together, wouldn’t it? And as far as she could recall, there hadn’t been any squawking or other noises that were remotely bird-related during their moments of ecstasy.
The noise came from the bedroom, that much she could tell. Hadn’t she already been there? She racked her brains for another explanation. Oh, yes. The bathroom.
As she neared the room, she wondered who in the right frame of mind would choose to satiate his needs in the presence of detergent and the smell of chemicals? Did that, God forbid, turn him on? Or maybe he had a particular fetish with linoleum tiles? The possibilities were endless, and yet the sight that met her could not be further from the situations which had run through her rather delirious head.
Draco was there, alright. But he wasn’t alone. She supposed she should be happy the other being wasn’t a prostitute (it was, in fact, a lot uglier than how the average skank looked). Staring straight back at her was a pair of beady eyes, its glaringly orange beak blaring out the less-than-welcoming squawks.
It was hideous. Honestly, after witnessing Draco’s selection of various things, his choice of spreadsheets, food and herself, just to name a few (which she must insist were the crème of the crop in their respective categories), she’d thought he had better taste than that.
It was covered in white feathers and had the same garishly coloured feet. The only thing that stopped Ginny from assuming it was a duck was that its feet weren’t webbed, and that it didn’t have any wings. Instead of where the wings might be, it had a ring of blubber surrounding its torso, which reminded Ginny of a summer when Ron had gotten stuck within his baby float (it didn’t help that there were pastel blue flowers printed on it and he was teased by Fred and George for the length of a week, precisely how long it had taken for Molly Weasley to undo the damage).
“Say hi to Wuzzy, Gin. He’s an amphiboduck!” gushed Draco as he noticed her.
Ginny decided the gushing was quite unbecoming on Draco, and scrunched up her face in disgust, “What is it?”
“He, not it,” said Draco drying off Wuzzy as it shook off water droplets which landed just about everywhere, including on Ginny’s nose.
Irked by the strange creature’s mere presence, she sat on the edge of the bathtub gingerly. When Draco finished wiping down Wuzzy, she pulled him into a deep kiss. It would’ve lasted longer had the bloody duck not set itself the task of poking its annoying beak into Ginny’s back. For such a blunt-looking beak, its jabs hurt an awful lot.
It suddenly occurred to her that That Night might be postponed to a later date, thanks to a certain thing butting in. Forget the proclamation of unequivocal love, forget the mind-blowing sex with Draco afterward, it was going to be a miserable night.
-
The couple ate a late dinner, and Draco seized the chance to gloat about his new pet (Ginny glumly prodded her steak, occasionally glancing at the duck to shoot it a menacing stare. Obviously, she was a perfect example why women should never be messed with whenever an obstacle deterred them from their ultimate goal, in this case, a goal vital to her womanhood - marriage.
It seemed that the amphiboduck was the newest and coolest pet to have. A thing to fiddle with when bored.
“Wuzzy was the first to be supplied to the emporium, and I got him,” boasted Draco, his face shining with pride and smugness.
"There was a crowd of kids on my way in, and they parted like the Red Sea when I exited once they saw me carrying Wuzzy.”
Ginny inwardly rolled her eyes.
“I swear, I’m like a Zeus to kids. They all want Wuzzy because of his astonishing ability to run, hop and wade. How cool is that, huh! Sort of beats Pothead with his pathetic new endorsement of Pygmy Puffs.”
So the duck could wade, eh? That explained the blubber ring. Well, they had to find some way to promote an advantage to being fat.
But somehow, it didn’t appear as cute to her as it did to Draco. Blame her female intuition, or her common sense, but the duck seemed a little evil. Now she only had to prove it before everything would be alright again and she’d get her greatly desired engagement ring.
-
The next morning, Ginny woke up to the same squawk that marked the beginning of an extremely nightmare-ish debacle. Stretching lazily before hopping out of bed, she desperately clinged to the semblance of hope that the ruddy duck was all a dream, and that when she reached the kitchen, she’d find that Draco was … crap, too late.
She blinked forcefully several times, intent on waking up from the nightmare, with no such luck. Sitting across Draco in her seat, was Wuzzy, being fed a few brown-spotted golden brown flat hotcakes.
She recognized the smell immediately. It was her favourite breakfast (and the only breakfast Draco knew how to prepare ever), chocolate chip pancakes drizzled with maple syrup and a generous glob of clotted cream.
It was normally served to her in bed, on the mornings after a long night of lovemaking. Those sessions exhausted her physically and mentally, thus she found it necessary to sleep in til at least past ten on those mornings.
Draco, however, reacted strangely contrary to hers. By some means, sex caused him to be widely awake and prone to engaging in one-sided conversations with Ginny, who by then had probably nodded off to sleep after the immense satiation.
On those morning-afters, especially those after nights loaded with multiple orgasms, Draco rose early and happily, and proceeded on to cooking breakfast for the both of them.
Her preferred way of waking up was closely associated with the scrumptious dish. Draco would rouse her gently from her slumber and alternate between feeding mouthfuls of pancake to her and to himself, all the while edging his other hand up and down her thigh. Often enough, that leaded to another go at it, what with chocolate being an aphrodiasc and all.
The problem with that now was, Draco’s hands were occupied with other tasks at the moment, more specifically, with the bloody duck. It suddenly occurred to Ginny that she was rather jealous of the hideous thing, which was utterly bizarre, seeing as she always thought Draco as the kid in the relationship. As far she would admit, she was seen as the sensible and mature one.
“Morning, Gin,” Draco greeted jovially from the table.
“Morning,” Ginny replied stiffly.
Nodding at the pancakes, Draco explained, “I cooked those for you at first, Wuzzy started sniffing and licking them, so I fed him some, and it turns out that he loves them.”
Ginny had seen that glowing look on Draco before, but it had always been related somehow to her. Be it her ministrations, or her delicious cooking. And now, seeing the look been cast by someone else, or rather, something else, just didn’t cut it. It made her feel the littlest bit pissed.
Play the role of the sweet and demure fiancé and it’ll all go away soon. Ginny breathed in deeply whilst repeating the sentence to herself over and over again inside her head.
She reached for the handle of a small cabinet tucked in the corner, where the pancake mix was, so that she could make herself some.
"There’s no more,” said Draco, as if reading her mind, “Wuzzy’s took up the last portion of the mix.”
Fuming silently, Ginny made herself a cup of double expresso, deliberately clanking the coffee bean tin and steel mug noisily in the process.
So the pudgy thing wanted to make trouble, eh? Well, two could play the game.
-
Showing Draco that Wuzzy was indeed evil proved to be a strenuous and difficult task. For one, the duck always managed to slip out of Ginny’s hands before she could cast a jinx-tracing charm or anti-foul spell on it.
For another, Draco wouldn’t listen to her ramblings because he found the stupid animal far too adorable and innocent to let it be accused of brainwashing his mind or, say, sent as an evil spawn of Voldemort (she thought those were rather good reasons, but for some reason Draco didn’t seem to think so).
So in the afternoon, Ginny decided to get some serious help. From someone who could listen to her problems and analyze them accordingly, before providing a clear solution set for success. Someone with enough logic and knowledge to give a fair judgment on the matter. Someone like, Hermione.
Unfortunately, Hermione’s reaction to Ginny’s dilemma was far from what she’d expected. The first thing emitted from her mouth after hearing about Wuzzy was, “Ooh, I read an article on amphiboducks the other day. Turns out that they’re somewhat like Nifflers, always looking for silver and gold. And when they do find the treasure, they keep it really safely.”
Ginny remembered thinking to herself, “Huh, the annoying thing’s a gold-digger” and telling herself that she childishly wouldn’t inform Draco about this little fact to get back at him for bringing that great dink home. She let Hermione go on for while longer just to humor her, before promptly deciding that the idea to get Hermione’s advice was a total washout. Her best friend had laughed the whole thing with the duck off with strict orders to go home and calmly tell Draco how she felt about Wuzzy.
When Ginny moaned about how she was sure he wouldn’t listen, because she’d already tried telling him that the Clementine-beaked birdlike creature had planted a seed of diabolism in his head, Hermione shot her a look that seemed to ask whether she was serious, and Ginny glumly relented into accepting the fact that Hermione simply wasn’t going to be siding with her, with the sane side.
Dinner was another sore affair. Draco set up a meeting with a business client, so halfway through his pesto chicken fillet, he left the flat after leaving instructions for Ginny to feed Wuzzy.
After much consideration and deliberation the previous night, Ginny had figured that Draco’s vast interest in the duck would wane in time to come, because he was honestly the type of person who looked for short burst of excitement, with no commitment and all that.
The only exceptions in his life were Ginny and Ginny’s most coveted double-fudge chocolate chip and pecan brownies. Those were the only constants in his life, and Ginny dramatically hoped that that wasn’t about to change.
And so, all she had to do was to tolerate the stupid duck and wait for Draco to lose interest in it. In the meantime, she’d be the epitome of a perfect girlfriend - kind, loving and caring. Hence, she opted to try and actually interact with Wuzzy, a feat she’d never choose to take on previously.
Ginny struggled to hand feed Wuzzy for several minutes, before choosing to force the food down its throat by magical means. The monstrosity just would not let her touch or grab it in any way. But when she felt for her wand in the left pocket of her robes, she discovered that it wasn’t there.
‘It had to be at Hermione’s, then,’she thought, as she grasped a handful of Floo powder, Wuzzy’s dinner completely forgotten.
Looking through the many fireplaces, she found Hermione’s. Just as she was about to step in, she noticed her bosom friend chatting with Draco, who had mentioned he would attending a meeting. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, she scanned the scene meticulously. Of course there wouldn’t be anything between them.
Even if Draco wanted to stray (which he wouldn’t, she was utmostly sure he was wrapped tightly around her little finger, well, until the evil duck came along), he’d have gone to find a gangly-legged model or a big-breasted acquaintance. With no offence to Hermione, she didn’t meet any of the criterions.
Ginny edged closer into the fireplace, and took out an Extendable Ear nicked from Fred and George. These little contraptions always came in useful for these sort of things. Within seconds, she could hear every word they were saying.
“So the ring’s at home, but I don’t know how to go about asking,” Draco was saying.
“Draco, like I told you last week, there are so many ways to do it. Take her on a vacation on St Bartes and ask her on the beach, have champagne and strawberries in bed and pop the question then, the possibilities are endless,” rattled Hermione.
Ginny tugged on the Extendable Ear and it rolled up into the skin-colored ball of string, elated with excitement.
So Draco already had the ring, and it was being kept at home. He didn’t know how to ask, so she would make him think of new and inventive ways of doing it. She speculated on whether the duck was halting his plans.
By the time she had showered and was ready for bed, a new plan had formed. It was established that Wuzzy would hold less and less magnetic pull to Draco in the long run, so if she sped things up a bit, it wouldn’t really be wrong, would it? She’d be like, an enzyme. Speeding up a reaction to save time and energy, and to reach the final goal quicker.All in all, if she thought about it, she was committing a good deed.
And so, the next morning she rose bright and early to cook breakfast for Draco. It was Sunday, and she felt like nothing could possibly go wrong today. The eggs benedict was perfect, she charmed Wuzzy’s breakfast to be consumed all in one big gulp without a hassle, and after breakfast she and Draco engaged in a rather languid session of heavy snogging and shagging.
Things started to go down from there, though. After Draco went out to get Wuzzy a proper bed and other necessities, Ginny was left to devise a clever plan to go about bewitching Wuzzy into appearing irksome and irritating to Draco.
She tried Stunning the ruddy duck, but the pudgy animal was quite agile and was able to dodge all her spells. Chasing after it with a chopper around the flat didn’t work either. By the end of the day, Ginny was left tired and hungry, and no closer to her goal than she had two days ago.
The first thing Ginny did on Monday morning was to head for Harry and Hermione’s. Her Plan C was going to go off without a hitch and she needed Harry’s Invisibility Cloak for it.
Her excuse for borrowing it was that she and Draco had agreed to inculcate something new in their sex lives (Harry turned red at that moment and cleared his throat loudly before excusing himself exiting the room), and she thought playing hide-and-seek would be fun to try.
When she came home that night, she received a note from Draco that he’d be out with Blaise for the night, with a promise that he’d make it up to her the moment he reached home.
Clasping her hands in delighted, she was glad for the extra time to put her plan into action. She spreaded the Invisibility Cloak in the middle of the hallway, and placed three freshly cooked chocolate chip pancakes on it. Then, she levitated herself and her broom to sit directly above the cloak and pancakes.
Hopefully, the smell of the food would emanate through the entire flat, to wherever Wuzzy was at the moment. It’d attract him to this spot and when he walked into the Invisibility Cloak, she’d be there to wrap the cloak tightly over his head so he couldn’t get out.
It went flawlessly. Clutching the bundle of cloth and feathers with glee, she reveled in the fact that she could finally move on to the bewitching part of her plan. Casting an Immobilizing Charm on Wuzzy, she proceeded onto taking him out of the cloak.
There was something hard in his stomach area. Patting him reluctantly, curiosity got the better of her and she felt into the wooly sweater Draco had adorned Wuzzy with. It was a velvet box. She gasped as she shrugged the tiny box out of the wool.
Despite smelling like dead feet, the velvet box was priceless all the same. She knew what lay inside before she opened, but that didn’t stop her from gaping at the wonder of the ring.
It was white gold, with intricately woven loops showcasing tiny beads of emeralds. The centerpiece was a diamond as big as a small stone, and the sight of it was breathtaking.
The Immobilized duck forgotten, she stared at the ring for moments after before the sound of a door slamming shut and a familiar interrupted her thoughts.
“Well, you found it, Gin,” said Draco, with a tinge of disappointment.
“It’s so pretty, Draco,” breathed Ginny.
He led her into the living room and she sat down on the couch, still mesmerized by the ring.
“Gin, a year ago when you met me at the Ministry Ball, I was a womanizing git,” he began as he knelt down beside her, “I had several escorts hanging by my arms as I flirted with even more of them. Today, I am still a git, but a changed git. You changed me, Gin. Over the months, I’ve imagined what it would be like to spend my entire life with you, a thought I’ve never even entertained with any other woman. Spending Saturdays in Muggle London, going to the park on Sundays… You’re the best thing in my life, Gin. Marry me.”
Feeling her throat was about to choke up from all the emotions, she murmured, “Yes.”
Just as she leaned in to kiss him though, a squawk distracted her again. Wuzzy, now released from the worn out Immobilizing Charm, was poking both Draco and Ginny in their legs and their ankles. He was trying to reach up for something, and when Ginny put two and two together, she discovered why he was trying to get the ring.
“Amphiboducks are like Nifflers, they’re always looking for silver and gold. And when they do find the treasure, they keep it really safely,” she recited from her memory of Hermione talking about it.
“He’s not going to revert back to his old ways anytime soon, Draco,” she said.
“Unless I give him the ring, which I won’t, because it’s far too pretty to be stuck up some repugnant duck’s arse,” she added.
Draco frowned, clearly not pleased with Wuzzy’s current behaviour.
“We could give him away,” said Ginny a little too brightly, “To Eddie, Harry and Hermione’s son. He’d love it!”
“I was beginning to grow sick of showering Wuzzy,” Draco said carefully.
“Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, the duck leaves for Harry and Hermione’s,” concluded Ginny.
“Why tomorrow? Why not now? He’s nipping at my toe,” Draco whined.
“Because,” Ginny said slowly, “You and I have a date with the bed now.”
She kissed him soundly on the lips, the familiar warm feeling of happiness and elation settling over her. And the rest, they say, is history.
ORIGINAL REQUEST
BRIEFLY describe what you’d like to recieve: fluff/romance/humor/adventure/general
The tone/mood of the fic: light
A theme/element/line of dialogue/object you want in your fic: Draco gets a new pet.
Canon of AU? either
Rating of the fic you want: any!
Deal breakers (what don’t you want): angst