FIC: One Night at the Burrow, Draco/Ginny, NC-17
Title: One Night at The Burrow
Author: rose_whispers
Pairing: Draco/Ginny (mentions of Harry/Charlie and Ron/Hermione)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco takes drastic measures to trick the Weasley family into liking him, much to Ginny's annoyance
Word Count: 6240
A/N: a belated anniversary giftfic for _xanthia, who wanted to see the Weasleys' reaction to Ginny bringing Draco home. Thanks to the beautiful thescarletwoman for the brilliant beta.
The sewer-water taste and texture made his eyes water, and his tongue was threatening to make a suicide leap from his mouth in revolt. The creeping, shifting, liquid sensation of his skin reforming over a different skeleton, a different face, was nearly enough to make him swear off the brewing of questionable potions completely. But he was delighted with the result when he looked at himself in the hall mirror and saw a pleasant but forgettable man staring back. He ruffled his shorter fingers through his longer brown hair, watched his muddy brown eyes gleam with satisfaction. Oh yes, victory was sweet, even if the potion that got him there hadn't been.
"No one's going to notice a difference if you don't stop smirking, you know," someone said behind him, and he turned to find a lovely, slim redhead looking him over, one hand on her hip, the other grasping her wand. Ginny looked half-amused, half-irritated. "I can't believe you're actually going through with this."
"I told you I was," he sniffed, slipping an arm around her waist. Ginny promptly batted him away.
"It's creepy. It's like being touched by a complete stranger."
"But I'm not a complete stranger."
"Complete coward, more like."
"Ginny-"
"Draco-"
"This just makes sense!"
"It does not!" She exploded. "Why can't you face my family as you?"
"I'm a practical man," he shot back. "I know what I have to do. Your family already hates me, Gin. Why not clear the game board and give them a neutral person to meet?"
"Because eventually they'll find out who you are." A lascivious grin spread across Ginny's face. "Unless you're planning on staying like this forever. I mean, you are terribly attractive right now." She ran the tip of her index finger over his thin bottom lip.
Draco caught her by the waist again, this time not letting go. "Didn't you just say that this," he echoed, skimming his fingertips along the soft swell of her breast, "felt like being mauled by a complete stranger?" He did his best to squelch the surge of irrational jealousy that rose up inside him- after all, it was stupid to get jealous over himself, wasn't it?- and nipped at the pad of her finger.
"Doesn't mean I don't want you," Ginny all but growled, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his body flush against hers.
"We could always skip dinner," he said, angling his head downward to lick the curve of her neck slowly, insolently.
Ginny shuddered in his arms. "I thought you wanted to make a good impression," she murmured, her voice tight and throaty.
Draco smirked again, an utterly Draco expression that belied his polyjuice-affected exterior. He could have her on her back, begging him for release in a matter of moments, he was sure. He scraped his teeth against her pulse point before abruptly releasing her. "Yes, I'd almost forgotten that. Shall we then?"
Ginny's cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. "You're such a prick."
"And I'll win them over with my manners and charm before I show them who they've really fallen in love with."
"A prick," Ginny repeated, her arousal giving way to annoyance once more, and she Apparated away immediately.
Draco straightened his robes. Just because he was never going to let any of them live down how much they would love him tonight didn't make him a prick, did it? Maybe just a little, he reflected smugly. He double-checked his hair once more while trying to think unarousing thoughts. He settled on an image of that utter oaf Hagrid trying to couple with his Great Aunt Mercutia until his blood started circulating normally once more and he was no longer in danger of showing up to his future in-laws' home with a raging erection caused by their only daughter. Nodding to himself, he Disapparated after Ginny.
~*~
Molly Weasley wasn’t so much a person as a high-velocity blur. She whipped through her kitchen, red hair doing its utmost to escape the confines of her messy bun, a smudge of flour on her cheek. Ginny was coming home. Ginny was coming home after more than a year of roving about the globe like a wandering nomad, like a common gypsy, for goodness' sake! Barely an idea about where she was going next or what she was going to do when she got there, just an owl once or twice a month to let them all know she hadn't died. There had been gifts for everyone, of course, thoughtful tokens from faraway countries. Nepalese sandalwood carvings imbued with ancient protective magic. Caffeine-enhanced coffee beans from Columbia. A piece of polished, bent wood from Australia called a roomie-bang that came back to you when you threw it away properly. For more than a month last summer, Arthur had obsessed over it, convinced that it was a magical artifact, practically squealing with glee every time its trajectory arced back toward him. At last, he'd given up his search for charms with an amazed whisper of, "the things these Muggles come up with." But gifts and owls were not the same thing as having her baby girl home once more, and Molly couldn't contain her excitement.
And she was bringing a young man with her! A fiancé! Molly had made everyone promise to be on their best behaviour this evening, though she herself had some misgivings. She had no idea where Ginny had found this boy, what he looked like, or even what his name was. In her missives, Ginny had been strangely reticent about giving any sort of description concerning who he was or how they met, and Molly couldn't help but worry about what her daughter was concealing from her. And oh yes, she could tell that something was being kept hidden about this boy. Molly knew that Ginny was a grown woman now who had helped defeat Voldemort. She could take care of herself, better than most, but still, Molly simply couldn't help but worry about her youngest, her baby girl.
Molly had made all of Ginny's favourite dishes, and as soon as she took the cherry pie out of the oven, everything would be ready. And then-
A clanging split the air from the front door, and Molly gasped, "Goodness, they're here! Arthur! Boys! They're here! Arthur, where are you?"
No one responded, so Molly hurried to the door herself, breathless with delight by the time she got there. She flung the door open to reveal Ginny and her young man. Molly's only daughter, home at last. She reached out and crushed her to her chest, fighting back a sob as she hugged her fiercely. She was elated to feel Ginny hugging back just as hard.
"My Ginny. My baby girl," Molly babbled, and now she could feel the inevitable dampness forming in her eyes.
"Mum! Get a grip," Ginny laughed, disentangling herself. "Just not on me."
"Let me look at you," Molly commanded, holding Ginny at arm's length. Her skin was flush with good health, her eyes sparkling with happiness, a light dusting of snow crowning her fiery hair. She looked like an angel, Molly thought. And a very content one at that. Her heart soared.
"Mum, I want you to meet-"
"David," the young man said, stepping around Ginny and offering Molly a bouquet of snow lilies first and his hand second. Molly reached to shake it but instead he brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. She almost laughed, she was so surprised, but the young man, David, seemed earnest.
"Welcome! Get inside before you both catch your deaths- it's freezing out there!" she said, waving them inside madly. "David. Let me look at you. We've, ah, heard so much about you."
David exchanged a knowing look with Ginny, and Molly knew he didn't buy that for a moment. "Thank you for inviting me to your home," he said politely, his accent clipped and cultured.
"Do come in," Molly replied, feeling her own manners slipping into place to match David's. "Dinner will be ready within the hour. May I offer you tea? Ginny, love, wipe your feet off."
Ginny shot her mother a look and wiped her feet very deliberately. "We brought yerba maté from Argentina, Mum. I'll go get it ready. Did you bring the bombilla, sweetheart?"
David conjured a large, round gourd and a silver straw-like implement from inside his robes and handed it to Ginny. "May I help with anything?"
"Just you relax," Molly and Ginny said at the same time, with the same intonation. Molly laughed, though Ginny's face manifested an expression of pure horror. Molly couldn't help but laugh even harder. Oh, it was good to have her only daughter home once more.
~*~
Ginny could tell the moment they stepped into the sitting room that her brothers were up to no good. If anyone in the world could read Fred and George Weasley, it was Ginny, and the too-innocent look, coupled with the positively wicked glint in their eyes, was enough to put her on high alert. Well, it had been nearly an hour since she and Draco had arrived. She was actually surprised it had taken the twins so long. She'd seen the glances they'd shared behind Draco's back. He might look like someone else, and he might be using all the things that came naturally to him from his ever-so-proper upbringing, but his arrogance had slipped through more than once since they'd arrived. Ginny could tell the twins were less than impressed.
"Going to settle down at last and come work for us, Gin?" George asked, draping himself across an armchair.
Fred placed a tray of mince tarts on the table. "Mum's compliments," he said. He and George immediately snatched two tarts each and began eating with gusto.
A look of contempt flashed across Draco's un-Draco-like face, but he quelled it quickly. Unfortunately, it hadn't been quick enough for the twins to miss.
"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I'm done traveling yet," Ginny said. "And even if I was, what makes you think I'd want to work for you great prats?"
"You're so good at coming up with creative product ideas," Fred said, batting his eyelashes at her.
"And keeping us in line," George added with a too-sweet smile.
She giggled. "I doubt any of us could keep you two in line."
"She doesn't need to work," Draco said, his characteristic sneer unfolding across his countenance.
George caught Ginny's eye and arched one brow, looking down meaningfully at the plate. Ginny frowned as her brother brushed his finger against one of the two remaining tarts and then shook his head at her nearly imperceptibly. She fought back a smile- dear lord, what had they done? She carefully took the tart that wasn't suspect and held the tray up to her fiancé. "Mince, dear?"
Draco had clearly forgotten whose company he kept, and he accepted it with an elegant gesture. Only a bite passed between his lips before Ginny and the twins dissolved into fits of laughter.
Draco froze, mince tart halfway to his lips for a second bite. "What have you imebeciles done?" he demanded, outraged and panicked.
The twins howled even harder, though Ginny tried to catch her breath, smiling sympathetically at her lover. "Oh dear. You seem to have gone to plaid."
"Pardon me?" he said, tone near hysteria as he held a hand up to his face. Every inch of visible skin had turned into a green tartan that Minerva McGonagall herself would have envied.
"You look like a walking kilt!" Fred gasped between guffaws.
"Never seen that reaction before," George giggled.
"Supposed to turn your hair plaid, not your whole body," Fred added, calming down a little.
Draco squawked in indignation, causing the twins to lose themselves in gales of laughter again. Ginny shook her head.
"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up." She glanced at her brothers. "Antidote?"
"Passes on its own, give or take a few minutes," George sniggered.
"Though with this kind of reaction, could be longer," Fred said.
Ginny rolled her eyes and held out her hand to Draco. "Let's go."
Silent and furious, Draco followed her, not saying a word until they arrived at the third floor loo. "Are they out of their minds? Are they completely insane? They could have killed me!"
Ginny sighed. "They would not have. They haven't managed to kill anyone yet."
"You were in on it," Draco said mutinously, staring at himself in the mirror. "You offered me that tart."
She peeked over his shoulder, sliding her arms around his torso. She watched their reflection as her hands splayed over his expensive navy dress robes. "Are you very angry?" she asked, though her tone conveyed the fact that she wasn't particularly worried about his wrath.
"Ginny, now isn't the time to-"
"I disagree," she said calmly, her breath ghosting over his plaid neck. "In my experience with Fred and George, anything they give you can be sweated out."
"Sweated..." His pupils were dilated.
"Out," she repeated, kissing the nape of his neck.
He leaned back in arms, his hands covering hers as she stroked his chest. "I suppose it was a reaction to the polyjuice."
"Mmm-hmmmm," she said, pulling at his high collar to taste more of his skin. She sucked on the juncture of neck and shoulder, one hand straying downward, over his stomach muscles toward his hips. She found his stirring erection and moaned in spite of herself, her hand covering him and beginning a slow, confident stroking motion through the fabric.
"Ginny," he groaned, rocking into her hand encouragingly.
"I've wanted to throw you down and ravish you all day," she said, and he laughed.
"Ravish me?" He leered at her in the mirror.
"All. Day." She made an impatient noise in the back of her throat and began to hitch his robes up, wanting to touch more of him, to make him whimper and beg. She knew from the dangerous look in his eyes that he wanted to do the same to her.
Without warning, he spun and pinned her against the wall, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss. She could still taste mince tart on his tongue as it plunged into her mouth, and she fought against him, scrabbling to get her wrists free of his hands in their usual struggle for dominance. This body of his was much stronger than usual, and she could barely move as he covered her, pressing his erection against her stomach. She fought instead with her mouth, biting his lower lip, arousal flooding her senses as he moaned, nipping back. Her hips bucked against his restlessly, and he released her wrists in favour of tearing at the buttons of her robe, parting the fabric and going to work on the buttons of her blouse underneath. She kissed him breathlessly as she shrugged out of the robe and shirt, arching into his touch as his hands found her bra-covered breasts and squeezed lightly.
"Draco," she moaned, wrapping her arms around his waist and dragging him against her, fingers curving around his arse as her head fell back, banging against the wall.
"Ssshhh," he said, an evil grin splitting his unfamiliar features. "Mustn't let your family hear." He pulled the simple white cotton of her bra down under the curve of her breasts.
"Horrible influence," she admonished, the last syllable lost in a sharp intake of breath as he rolled her right nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Please. You were hardly a vestal virgin before you met me," he scoffed, nudging her legs apart and rubbing his thigh between them. She whimpered at the sensation, undulating with his rhythm, his cock pressed between them.
"Nor were you. Corrupter of youth," she managed before he bent down and sucked her other nipple into his mouth, raking his teeth over its sensitive peak.
"Fuck, Draco," cried, her fingers tangling in his hair. His blond hair... "You're you again. Still- god, yes!- plaid, though." She was wet, and she ached for him, wondering if she might go mad before he touched her where she most needed to feel him. She unbuttoned his robe from the waist down and pushed the fabric away from his hips before going to work on his trousers.
"Beautiful," he praised, pulling her knee-length skirt up to bunch around her hips. She freed his straining cock from the confines of his trousers and wrapped her hand around him, pleased at the strangled noise that escaped his throat. In return, he ran his index finger along the waist of her knickers and she shivered. He felt familiar again, and it inflamed her even more.
"Draco, please," she murmured, dragging her tongue against his lips before brushing her mouth against his in an unfinished, urgent kiss. He responded with a groan of his own and abandoned his teasing, pressing his palm against her cunt, massaging her through her knickers. Her hips moved against his hand involuntarily, and she almost screamed when he pulled the cotton aside without warning and stroked her wet skin. He thrust two fingers inside her and kissed her to cover his own moan.
"So tight," he whispered against her mouth.
"I need you," she whispered back as he worked his fingers in and out of her. "Now."
She wasn't sure if she was commanding or pleading and she didn't care because he hitched her upward immediately and she felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against her, penetrating her. They groaned in unison at the sensation and he paused for a moment at the threshold. One leg over his hip and wrapping around his slim waist, she urged him forward again, panting as he filled her, pressing her between his body and the wall until he was fully inside.
Playful though he often was, she could tell that now was not about teasing. She was grateful, and as he began to move, she threaded her hands through his hair, kissing him hard. His fingers curled around her hips as they found a harmony of movements and moans. He moved quickly, the liquid friction surrounding them both and enveloping their senses until they knew nothing but the feel of each other, their mouths meeting as their bodies did. Ginny was nearly delirious as his hand snaked between them and found her clit, her breasts rubbing against the velvet of his robes, still fastened above his waist.
"Draco, I'm-" she moaned before her climax spiked through her and she buried her mouth against his shoulder, quelling her cry. He stroked her until she stopped quivering, and she melted against him. She could feel the tension in his body until with a last thrust he came wordlessly, spilling deep inside her and stilling, holding her close.
She turned her head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and licking at the salty skin. "God," she muttered.
"Indeed." He pulled out of her and stepped back a little, not letting go of her yet. She took a shaky breath and looked him over.
"It worked," she laughed, holding the hand that had caressed her up between them. His skin was no longer plaid, and with a wicked smile she brought his fingers to her lips, tasting herself on him. It was almost enough to make her want to start the process over again. Had her family not been downstairs, probably wondering where they'd gone and what those suspicious sounds were, she would have dragged him off to her old bedroom for a slower, proper shag. But that would have to wait until they got home after dinner. For now, Draco had to take another dosage of his stupid polyjuice potion before anyone missed them.
~*~
Charlie watched Harry watching Ginny and her fiancé with gentle mirth. Harry hadn't even finished his roast beef, which was so uncharacteristic for him that Molly had asked him if he was feeling all right.
"I know she was your first girlfriend, love," Charlie said, pitching his voice for Harry's ears alone as he traced circles on the back of Harry's hand, "but the way you're looking at her is almost enough to make me jealous."
Harry blinked, startled, and turned to face Charlie, twining their fingers together. "Huh?"
"You haven't stopped glaring all night."
Harry shook his head. "I don't like him. He's arrogant. He's... there's something off about him."
"You said the same thing when she was dating Oliver Wood," Charlie said. Ginny seemed happy enough and that was what mattered, wasn't it? "You're more protective than I am."
"I don't like him," Harry repeated resolutely.
Charlie brought Harry's hand to his lips. "I could distract you, if that would make you feel better."
For the first time that evening, the worried crease between Harry's eyes disappeared. "Oh, could you?"
Charlie caught an amused smile from Hermione, where she and Ron sat, hands similarly entwined. "Perhaps not at the dinner table," he amended, and Harry laughed.
Harry was about to respond when his attention was pulled away again. "Do you have a problem?" he demanded, and it took Charlie a moment to realise that he was talking to Ginny's fiancé. The younger man was watching them with unbridled glee.
"I should have known you were queer, Potter," David drawled. Ginny caught him by the wrist sharply, a frown clouding her features.
Harry was on his feet in a second, his wand in his hand. "Do you have a problem with that?" he demanded.
David gripped his wand and rose to his feet too, despite the way that Ginny tugged at him. "Not with your preferences. Just with you."
"Sit down!" Ginny hissed.
Charlie stood up also, a hand on Harry's shoulder, applying gentle downward pressure. "Everyone just calm down."
"You've had an attitude from the moment you arrived," Harry said stubbornly.
"Certain people bring that out in me," David said, his own wand twitching as if it were egging him on.
"You don't even know me!" Harry said, teeth gritted. Charlie knew how much his lover hated it when people judged him by his fame and reputation alone. He caught Ginny's eyes and they exchanged exasperated glances.
"Sit. Down. Now," Ginny ground out, and this time her fiancé listened to her, returning to his seat grudgingly. Harry mirrored the gesture. Charlie sat with him, placing a hand on his lover's thigh soothingly, and Harry covered it with his own hand, nails biting into Charlie's skin.
"All right?" Charlie asked his bespectacled lover.
"I don't like him," Harry repeated.
~*~
Arthur watched his children and their partners as they reposed in the sitting room after dinner. Times like these were what made him miss Bill and Percy most. Even though the room was filled with talk and laughter, it always felt as though some unique element was missing. Still, he thought as Molly sat down beside him, it was wonderful to have everyone all together. Charlie and Harry were curled up on the love seat, Harry's head resting on Charlie's shoulder. It had taken the young man many years to find a calm port amidst the chaos of his life, and he and Charlie clung to each other now with a tenacity and loyalty that warmed his heart. Ron was holding Hermione's hand, a content smile on his lips. Made for each other and always had been, he thought fondly. The twins looked like they were about to hatch another plot directed against David, and Arthur wondered if he should intervene. Ginny and David themselves were sitting on the sofa, more relaxed since the showdown at dinner. They were telling the story of a hag they'd had a run-in with in Indonesia, taking over the narrative from each other and embellishing points that were of specific importance to each of them.
Arthur didn't know what to make of the newcomer. Surely a boy so well brought up and with such an accent should be known to him. There were not enough Wizarding families in Britain to lose track of, and Arthur simply didn't know where the young man came from. Shouldn't he have gone to school with the other children? Shouldn't Arthur and Molly know his parents?
The cool arrogance he radiated couldn't be ignored, either. And yet, as he watched his daughter interacting with him, he could see nothing but devotion in the young man's eyes. And Ginny seemed happy. So what could Arthur say? Molly, of course, would fill him in on her thoughts the moment they'd said goodnight, but until then, Arthur would sit back and observe.
The story had taken an adventurous turn, and everyone in the room hung spellbound as David and Ginny wove their tale together. Perhaps what had happened in the dining room had been an anomaly. Everyone seemed to be getting along now, despite the inexplicably venomous looks that passed between David and Harry. Sometimes instant enemies were made, Arthur supposed. You just couldn't help it when you couldn't stand someone.
But as he watched his other children laughing and asking questions, he thought that perhaps, just perhaps, David might fold into the family with a minimum of difficulty. He hoped so. He wanted only for his children to be happy, after all.
~*~
Draco and Ginny were standing at the fireplace, saying their good-byes. Ginny's mum, of course, wanted them to stay the night, but Hermione couldn't really fault them for wanting to end the evening on a relatively calm note and then escape to their own place. Molly, after all, insisted that they all sleep in separate bedrooms until they were married, which meant that the only shared bed in the house belonged to Molly and Arthur. And Hermione, fond of them though she was, didn't want to think about that at all. As it was, the rest of Molly's children and their significant others had agreed to stay for the weekend, but Ginny had been intent on calling it a night. She seemed more watchful than usual about something, though Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on what was amiss.
She kissed Ginny on the cheek and did the same for her fiancé, hoping that the unpleasantness from earlier wouldn't reemerge. He stiffened a little when she touched him, and Hermione had to wonder again about him. He was such an odd person, and she couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly seemed so incongruous about him. As she stepped back, the comfortable warmth of Ron's arm circling her shoulders, she noticed that David was watching the ticking grandfather clock out of the corner of his eye. He seemed distracted, waiting for something. He extended his hand to Arthur but before they shook, a peculiar look crossed his face and he doubled over. She understood almost immediately what was happening as his skin seemed to boil and melt all at once, morphing into a different countenance, a different body, entirely. After all, she'd seen Ron and Harry undergo a similar transformation once. She just didn't understand why she was seeing what she was seeing.
Arthur shouted, and Harry and Charlie drew their wands. Ginny huffed in annoyance as David straightened, and now his blond hair and flashing eyes and defiant sneer were all too familiar. No wonder she'd had the sense all night that she'd met him before, even though she couldn't actually remember his face.
"Malfoy!" Harry and at least three of the Weasleys shouted, and a half dozen wands, including Hermione's, whipped out of the folds of various robes to point at the blond's throat.
"Stop it!" Ginny demanded.
"Ginny, it's Malfoy," Harry pointed out, and Draco actually laughed in his face.
"You think she doesn't know that, Potter?"
"You've tricked her," Harry said, not relinquishing his grasp on his wand. "You disgusting pervert."
"Harry, calm down," Ginny said, stepping between her one-time beau and her fiancé. Draco smirked at him behind her back. "And you stop that," she added, not turning around.
"Ginny?" Molly asked, bewildered, her eyes darting between Ginny and Draco. She was clearly startled.
"Polyjuice," Fred- no, George- said, slapping his forehead.
"That's why you went plaid," Fred agreed. Neither was smiling. Plaid? Hermione wondered what she had missed.
"Ginny, are you out of your mind?" Ron cried. Hermione glanced at him. He was alarmingly pale, almost gray, his freckles standing out starkly.
"Don't be an idiot," Hermione said, smacking his arm, and she lowered her wand. Ginny smiled at her gratefully, but Hermione didn't return the smile. Malfoy. She couldn't understand how Ginny could bring that bastard home, let alone want to marry him. Maybe Ron hadn't been too far off the mark after all.
"Death Eater scum," Harry said. "Ginny, get out of the way. He has you under the Imperius, he-"
"Don't be insulting, Harry," Ginny said, sounding really angry now. "I can think for myself, thank you very much." She took him by the arm and firmly pushed his wand away. Draco looked more than a little relieved not to be standing in front of its business end any longer.
"Why would you do this?" Arthur said, puzzled.
"He's twisted," Harry snapped.
"You all thought I was charming," Draco rebuked. "Well, all except you, Potter, though it's hardly my fault that you have neither manners nor discernment. Not one of the rest of you had a problem with me. "
"Want to bet?" the twins said in unison.
"Would you have let me in the door had I shown up like this?" Draco said triumphantly. "I don't think so."
"Of course we would have," Molly said, sounding tired and angry. "I'm the one who answered the door. If you make Ginny happy, then I'd have let you in. I can't believe you would do something like this, young man."
Draco looked disconcerted at the note of maternal displeasure that Molly was so good at. "It was the easiest way," he said, sounding unsure of himself now.
"I'm very disappointed in both of you," Molly said.
Ginny bristled. "I told him it was a stupid idea."
"You're both staying here tonight," Molly said firmly.
"What?" Ginny asked at the same time that Draco said, "Why?"
"Because we're going to sort this all out, and we're going to start fresh in the morning," Molly said in a tone that brooked no argument. "And we will begin the way we should have begun. Ginny, you and Hermione can stay in your old bedroom."
"Fine," Ginny muttered, arching an eyebrow at Hermione, who nodded once. Let the shuffling of bedfellows begin, she thought to herself.
"Draco, you can stay with... hmmm." She looked at the glowering faces in the room, and apparently decided that it might not be safe to house Draco with any of them. "You can stay in Percy's old room."
"Mum, no!" four different voices cried.
"You can't desecrate Percy's room like that," Ron snapped, and Hermione elbowed him again. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Oh, let him," the twins said.
Arthur nodded. "Settled, then."
"Excellent," Molly agreed. "Charlie, you and the twins can bunk together. Harry and Ron in Ron's room. All right?"
"All right," a dull chorus of voices responded, and Molly sent them all off to bed.
~*~
"Livid" wasn't a strong enough word to describe either Ron or Harry as they sat facing each other in Ron's room.
"It's disgusting," Ron said for the eighteenth time.
"He's cursed her," Harry said for the nineteenth.
"Maybe it's some weird bonding thing," Ron moaned, covering his face with his hands. "Like, they were both cursed and they have to get married or die."
"But she could have told us!" Harry raged. "We could have broken a curse like that! Maybe he's blackmailing her."
"Maybe she's gone mad!"
"Maybe Hermione's right," a quiet, firm voice said from the doorway, "and you're both being idiots."
Harry and Ron both turned to see Charlie leaning against the doorframe. Ron saw Harry's face light up the way it always did around Charlie, but Ron glared. "You don't know Malfoy like we do," he insisted.
"I think Ginny would say the same thing," Charlie said, sitting on the bed next to Harry, his head nearly touching the sloping ceiling of Ron's room. "Didn't either of you see how happy she was around him all night?"
"Yes, but-" Harry said.
"And she didn't look the least bit surprised when he turned into himself," Charlie continued.
"We know, but-"
"So maybe she knows something about him that we don't," Charlie pressed on. "You know the Order could never have won without the information he passed on to us. That must say something about his true nature."
"That slimy, smarmy, sleazy git isn't ever going to change," Harry said, jaw set tenaciously.
"He was a bastard in school and he's a bastard now," Ron agreed.
Charlie shook his head. "Let's just see how it goes in the morning, shall we?"
Ron and Harry sighed in unison, neither acquiescing nor outright saying no.
"Excellent," Charlie said, sounding frighteningly reminiscent of their mum. "Go away now, Ron."
Ron spluttered. "Excuse me? This is my room!"
"And it's going to be cramped if the three of us are sharing it," Charlie said. Harry actually blushed beside him. Ron felt his own cheeks heat.
"I can't believe you're throwing me out of my own room."
"Go find Hermione," Charlie suggested.
"She's sharing with Ginny."
Now Harry and Charlie both looked at him like he was insane. "Oh. Oh! Ew!" Ron gasped. "You think she's with Malfoy right now?"
"If she's not, you can go bunk with George," Charlie said. "Fred's gone off to rendezvous with Angelina anyway."
Ron muttered under his breath as he slid into his dressing gown. He shot them both a lethal glare and slammed the door behind him. He would have stomped away before it occurred to him that stomping would alert his parents to the fact that he was out of bed. And grown up though he was, he knew his mother still had the power to send him to his room when he stayed at home.
He whispered down the stairs to the third floor, avoiding the steps that moaned and the floorboards that creaked. The corridor was empty, and Ron was utterly torn between wanting to find Hermione alone and desperately wanting Ginny to be there too, which meant that she was nowhere near Malfoy. Malfoy- disgusting!
He knocked tentatively on the bedroom door, and it opened marginally. A slim, sure hand slipped out and grabbed his wrist, hauling him inside.
"About time you decided to show up," Hermione said with a grin, twining her arms around his neck.
"Ginny's not here," Ron sighed, and Hermione actually laughed.
"You were hoping she would be?"
Ron blushed. "Not like that! I just... you know."
"Malfoy," Hermione said with a nod. "I know. I talked to her though. This really is what she wants, Ron."
"But what if-"
"I shot a finite incantatem at her the second we were alone," Hermione said, looking sheepish. "She wasn't impressed with me, but at least we know that she isn't being controlled by him."
Ron sneaked his hands beneath the hem of her night shirt, stroking the soft skin of her lower back, and she hummed with pleasure, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. Somehow, this always made him feel better, and he parted her lips with his tongue. Perhaps this night wasn't a total disaster after all-
"BACK TO YOUR BEDS, EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!" A magically amplified voice sliced through the stillness of the room, and Hermione and Ron jumped apart guiltily.
"How does she do that?" Hermione said, straightening her nightshirt.
"She's Mum," Ron moaned, flushing scarlet.
"Good night, Ron," Hermione said resignedly. She brushed a kiss against his cheek and retreated back to her bed.
Ron shook his head and walked back out into the hallway, just in time to see Ginny coming up one flight of stairs and Charlie going down the other. From the state of dishevelment of them both, Ron could tell they'd been caught in flagrante delicto by Mum's voice.
"She caught Fred going out the Floo," Ginny said furiously. "Stupid git forgot to disarm it and the alarm went off in the parents' room." She passed them both, cursing furiously as she slammed the door.
Charlie finished buttoning his pajama top. "What do you want to bet that he did it on purpose?"
"What, to make sure she didn't spend the night with Malfoy?" Ron asked.
Charlie grinned. "Of course. And also to make sure the rest of us were caught just as red-handed."
"Bastard."
"He and George must be in hysterics right now."
Ron muttered a few of the curses that Ginny had. "Do please pants him when you get back there."
"Done," Charlie said with a nod. "'Night, Ron."
"'Night." Ron did stomp back up the stairs this time. This was not a good night. Not a good night at all.
Oh well. He'd talk it over with Harry. Maybe tomorrow they'd throw Malfoy off the roof to see if ferrets could fly. Then at least it wouldn't be a completely lost weekend. Grinning with satisfaction at the thought, he slammed the bedroom door.
Fin
Author: rose_whispers
Pairing: Draco/Ginny (mentions of Harry/Charlie and Ron/Hermione)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco takes drastic measures to trick the Weasley family into liking him, much to Ginny's annoyance
Word Count: 6240
A/N: a belated anniversary giftfic for _xanthia, who wanted to see the Weasleys' reaction to Ginny bringing Draco home. Thanks to the beautiful thescarletwoman for the brilliant beta.
The sewer-water taste and texture made his eyes water, and his tongue was threatening to make a suicide leap from his mouth in revolt. The creeping, shifting, liquid sensation of his skin reforming over a different skeleton, a different face, was nearly enough to make him swear off the brewing of questionable potions completely. But he was delighted with the result when he looked at himself in the hall mirror and saw a pleasant but forgettable man staring back. He ruffled his shorter fingers through his longer brown hair, watched his muddy brown eyes gleam with satisfaction. Oh yes, victory was sweet, even if the potion that got him there hadn't been.
"No one's going to notice a difference if you don't stop smirking, you know," someone said behind him, and he turned to find a lovely, slim redhead looking him over, one hand on her hip, the other grasping her wand. Ginny looked half-amused, half-irritated. "I can't believe you're actually going through with this."
"I told you I was," he sniffed, slipping an arm around her waist. Ginny promptly batted him away.
"It's creepy. It's like being touched by a complete stranger."
"But I'm not a complete stranger."
"Complete coward, more like."
"Ginny-"
"Draco-"
"This just makes sense!"
"It does not!" She exploded. "Why can't you face my family as you?"
"I'm a practical man," he shot back. "I know what I have to do. Your family already hates me, Gin. Why not clear the game board and give them a neutral person to meet?"
"Because eventually they'll find out who you are." A lascivious grin spread across Ginny's face. "Unless you're planning on staying like this forever. I mean, you are terribly attractive right now." She ran the tip of her index finger over his thin bottom lip.
Draco caught her by the waist again, this time not letting go. "Didn't you just say that this," he echoed, skimming his fingertips along the soft swell of her breast, "felt like being mauled by a complete stranger?" He did his best to squelch the surge of irrational jealousy that rose up inside him- after all, it was stupid to get jealous over himself, wasn't it?- and nipped at the pad of her finger.
"Doesn't mean I don't want you," Ginny all but growled, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his body flush against hers.
"We could always skip dinner," he said, angling his head downward to lick the curve of her neck slowly, insolently.
Ginny shuddered in his arms. "I thought you wanted to make a good impression," she murmured, her voice tight and throaty.
Draco smirked again, an utterly Draco expression that belied his polyjuice-affected exterior. He could have her on her back, begging him for release in a matter of moments, he was sure. He scraped his teeth against her pulse point before abruptly releasing her. "Yes, I'd almost forgotten that. Shall we then?"
Ginny's cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. "You're such a prick."
"And I'll win them over with my manners and charm before I show them who they've really fallen in love with."
"A prick," Ginny repeated, her arousal giving way to annoyance once more, and she Apparated away immediately.
Draco straightened his robes. Just because he was never going to let any of them live down how much they would love him tonight didn't make him a prick, did it? Maybe just a little, he reflected smugly. He double-checked his hair once more while trying to think unarousing thoughts. He settled on an image of that utter oaf Hagrid trying to couple with his Great Aunt Mercutia until his blood started circulating normally once more and he was no longer in danger of showing up to his future in-laws' home with a raging erection caused by their only daughter. Nodding to himself, he Disapparated after Ginny.
~*~
Molly Weasley wasn’t so much a person as a high-velocity blur. She whipped through her kitchen, red hair doing its utmost to escape the confines of her messy bun, a smudge of flour on her cheek. Ginny was coming home. Ginny was coming home after more than a year of roving about the globe like a wandering nomad, like a common gypsy, for goodness' sake! Barely an idea about where she was going next or what she was going to do when she got there, just an owl once or twice a month to let them all know she hadn't died. There had been gifts for everyone, of course, thoughtful tokens from faraway countries. Nepalese sandalwood carvings imbued with ancient protective magic. Caffeine-enhanced coffee beans from Columbia. A piece of polished, bent wood from Australia called a roomie-bang that came back to you when you threw it away properly. For more than a month last summer, Arthur had obsessed over it, convinced that it was a magical artifact, practically squealing with glee every time its trajectory arced back toward him. At last, he'd given up his search for charms with an amazed whisper of, "the things these Muggles come up with." But gifts and owls were not the same thing as having her baby girl home once more, and Molly couldn't contain her excitement.
And she was bringing a young man with her! A fiancé! Molly had made everyone promise to be on their best behaviour this evening, though she herself had some misgivings. She had no idea where Ginny had found this boy, what he looked like, or even what his name was. In her missives, Ginny had been strangely reticent about giving any sort of description concerning who he was or how they met, and Molly couldn't help but worry about what her daughter was concealing from her. And oh yes, she could tell that something was being kept hidden about this boy. Molly knew that Ginny was a grown woman now who had helped defeat Voldemort. She could take care of herself, better than most, but still, Molly simply couldn't help but worry about her youngest, her baby girl.
Molly had made all of Ginny's favourite dishes, and as soon as she took the cherry pie out of the oven, everything would be ready. And then-
A clanging split the air from the front door, and Molly gasped, "Goodness, they're here! Arthur! Boys! They're here! Arthur, where are you?"
No one responded, so Molly hurried to the door herself, breathless with delight by the time she got there. She flung the door open to reveal Ginny and her young man. Molly's only daughter, home at last. She reached out and crushed her to her chest, fighting back a sob as she hugged her fiercely. She was elated to feel Ginny hugging back just as hard.
"My Ginny. My baby girl," Molly babbled, and now she could feel the inevitable dampness forming in her eyes.
"Mum! Get a grip," Ginny laughed, disentangling herself. "Just not on me."
"Let me look at you," Molly commanded, holding Ginny at arm's length. Her skin was flush with good health, her eyes sparkling with happiness, a light dusting of snow crowning her fiery hair. She looked like an angel, Molly thought. And a very content one at that. Her heart soared.
"Mum, I want you to meet-"
"David," the young man said, stepping around Ginny and offering Molly a bouquet of snow lilies first and his hand second. Molly reached to shake it but instead he brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. She almost laughed, she was so surprised, but the young man, David, seemed earnest.
"Welcome! Get inside before you both catch your deaths- it's freezing out there!" she said, waving them inside madly. "David. Let me look at you. We've, ah, heard so much about you."
David exchanged a knowing look with Ginny, and Molly knew he didn't buy that for a moment. "Thank you for inviting me to your home," he said politely, his accent clipped and cultured.
"Do come in," Molly replied, feeling her own manners slipping into place to match David's. "Dinner will be ready within the hour. May I offer you tea? Ginny, love, wipe your feet off."
Ginny shot her mother a look and wiped her feet very deliberately. "We brought yerba maté from Argentina, Mum. I'll go get it ready. Did you bring the bombilla, sweetheart?"
David conjured a large, round gourd and a silver straw-like implement from inside his robes and handed it to Ginny. "May I help with anything?"
"Just you relax," Molly and Ginny said at the same time, with the same intonation. Molly laughed, though Ginny's face manifested an expression of pure horror. Molly couldn't help but laugh even harder. Oh, it was good to have her only daughter home once more.
~*~
Ginny could tell the moment they stepped into the sitting room that her brothers were up to no good. If anyone in the world could read Fred and George Weasley, it was Ginny, and the too-innocent look, coupled with the positively wicked glint in their eyes, was enough to put her on high alert. Well, it had been nearly an hour since she and Draco had arrived. She was actually surprised it had taken the twins so long. She'd seen the glances they'd shared behind Draco's back. He might look like someone else, and he might be using all the things that came naturally to him from his ever-so-proper upbringing, but his arrogance had slipped through more than once since they'd arrived. Ginny could tell the twins were less than impressed.
"Going to settle down at last and come work for us, Gin?" George asked, draping himself across an armchair.
Fred placed a tray of mince tarts on the table. "Mum's compliments," he said. He and George immediately snatched two tarts each and began eating with gusto.
A look of contempt flashed across Draco's un-Draco-like face, but he quelled it quickly. Unfortunately, it hadn't been quick enough for the twins to miss.
"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I'm done traveling yet," Ginny said. "And even if I was, what makes you think I'd want to work for you great prats?"
"You're so good at coming up with creative product ideas," Fred said, batting his eyelashes at her.
"And keeping us in line," George added with a too-sweet smile.
She giggled. "I doubt any of us could keep you two in line."
"She doesn't need to work," Draco said, his characteristic sneer unfolding across his countenance.
George caught Ginny's eye and arched one brow, looking down meaningfully at the plate. Ginny frowned as her brother brushed his finger against one of the two remaining tarts and then shook his head at her nearly imperceptibly. She fought back a smile- dear lord, what had they done? She carefully took the tart that wasn't suspect and held the tray up to her fiancé. "Mince, dear?"
Draco had clearly forgotten whose company he kept, and he accepted it with an elegant gesture. Only a bite passed between his lips before Ginny and the twins dissolved into fits of laughter.
Draco froze, mince tart halfway to his lips for a second bite. "What have you imebeciles done?" he demanded, outraged and panicked.
The twins howled even harder, though Ginny tried to catch her breath, smiling sympathetically at her lover. "Oh dear. You seem to have gone to plaid."
"Pardon me?" he said, tone near hysteria as he held a hand up to his face. Every inch of visible skin had turned into a green tartan that Minerva McGonagall herself would have envied.
"You look like a walking kilt!" Fred gasped between guffaws.
"Never seen that reaction before," George giggled.
"Supposed to turn your hair plaid, not your whole body," Fred added, calming down a little.
Draco squawked in indignation, causing the twins to lose themselves in gales of laughter again. Ginny shook her head.
"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up." She glanced at her brothers. "Antidote?"
"Passes on its own, give or take a few minutes," George sniggered.
"Though with this kind of reaction, could be longer," Fred said.
Ginny rolled her eyes and held out her hand to Draco. "Let's go."
Silent and furious, Draco followed her, not saying a word until they arrived at the third floor loo. "Are they out of their minds? Are they completely insane? They could have killed me!"
Ginny sighed. "They would not have. They haven't managed to kill anyone yet."
"You were in on it," Draco said mutinously, staring at himself in the mirror. "You offered me that tart."
She peeked over his shoulder, sliding her arms around his torso. She watched their reflection as her hands splayed over his expensive navy dress robes. "Are you very angry?" she asked, though her tone conveyed the fact that she wasn't particularly worried about his wrath.
"Ginny, now isn't the time to-"
"I disagree," she said calmly, her breath ghosting over his plaid neck. "In my experience with Fred and George, anything they give you can be sweated out."
"Sweated..." His pupils were dilated.
"Out," she repeated, kissing the nape of his neck.
He leaned back in arms, his hands covering hers as she stroked his chest. "I suppose it was a reaction to the polyjuice."
"Mmm-hmmmm," she said, pulling at his high collar to taste more of his skin. She sucked on the juncture of neck and shoulder, one hand straying downward, over his stomach muscles toward his hips. She found his stirring erection and moaned in spite of herself, her hand covering him and beginning a slow, confident stroking motion through the fabric.
"Ginny," he groaned, rocking into her hand encouragingly.
"I've wanted to throw you down and ravish you all day," she said, and he laughed.
"Ravish me?" He leered at her in the mirror.
"All. Day." She made an impatient noise in the back of her throat and began to hitch his robes up, wanting to touch more of him, to make him whimper and beg. She knew from the dangerous look in his eyes that he wanted to do the same to her.
Without warning, he spun and pinned her against the wall, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss. She could still taste mince tart on his tongue as it plunged into her mouth, and she fought against him, scrabbling to get her wrists free of his hands in their usual struggle for dominance. This body of his was much stronger than usual, and she could barely move as he covered her, pressing his erection against her stomach. She fought instead with her mouth, biting his lower lip, arousal flooding her senses as he moaned, nipping back. Her hips bucked against his restlessly, and he released her wrists in favour of tearing at the buttons of her robe, parting the fabric and going to work on the buttons of her blouse underneath. She kissed him breathlessly as she shrugged out of the robe and shirt, arching into his touch as his hands found her bra-covered breasts and squeezed lightly.
"Draco," she moaned, wrapping her arms around his waist and dragging him against her, fingers curving around his arse as her head fell back, banging against the wall.
"Ssshhh," he said, an evil grin splitting his unfamiliar features. "Mustn't let your family hear." He pulled the simple white cotton of her bra down under the curve of her breasts.
"Horrible influence," she admonished, the last syllable lost in a sharp intake of breath as he rolled her right nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Please. You were hardly a vestal virgin before you met me," he scoffed, nudging her legs apart and rubbing his thigh between them. She whimpered at the sensation, undulating with his rhythm, his cock pressed between them.
"Nor were you. Corrupter of youth," she managed before he bent down and sucked her other nipple into his mouth, raking his teeth over its sensitive peak.
"Fuck, Draco," cried, her fingers tangling in his hair. His blond hair... "You're you again. Still- god, yes!- plaid, though." She was wet, and she ached for him, wondering if she might go mad before he touched her where she most needed to feel him. She unbuttoned his robe from the waist down and pushed the fabric away from his hips before going to work on his trousers.
"Beautiful," he praised, pulling her knee-length skirt up to bunch around her hips. She freed his straining cock from the confines of his trousers and wrapped her hand around him, pleased at the strangled noise that escaped his throat. In return, he ran his index finger along the waist of her knickers and she shivered. He felt familiar again, and it inflamed her even more.
"Draco, please," she murmured, dragging her tongue against his lips before brushing her mouth against his in an unfinished, urgent kiss. He responded with a groan of his own and abandoned his teasing, pressing his palm against her cunt, massaging her through her knickers. Her hips moved against his hand involuntarily, and she almost screamed when he pulled the cotton aside without warning and stroked her wet skin. He thrust two fingers inside her and kissed her to cover his own moan.
"So tight," he whispered against her mouth.
"I need you," she whispered back as he worked his fingers in and out of her. "Now."
She wasn't sure if she was commanding or pleading and she didn't care because he hitched her upward immediately and she felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against her, penetrating her. They groaned in unison at the sensation and he paused for a moment at the threshold. One leg over his hip and wrapping around his slim waist, she urged him forward again, panting as he filled her, pressing her between his body and the wall until he was fully inside.
Playful though he often was, she could tell that now was not about teasing. She was grateful, and as he began to move, she threaded her hands through his hair, kissing him hard. His fingers curled around her hips as they found a harmony of movements and moans. He moved quickly, the liquid friction surrounding them both and enveloping their senses until they knew nothing but the feel of each other, their mouths meeting as their bodies did. Ginny was nearly delirious as his hand snaked between them and found her clit, her breasts rubbing against the velvet of his robes, still fastened above his waist.
"Draco, I'm-" she moaned before her climax spiked through her and she buried her mouth against his shoulder, quelling her cry. He stroked her until she stopped quivering, and she melted against him. She could feel the tension in his body until with a last thrust he came wordlessly, spilling deep inside her and stilling, holding her close.
She turned her head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and licking at the salty skin. "God," she muttered.
"Indeed." He pulled out of her and stepped back a little, not letting go of her yet. She took a shaky breath and looked him over.
"It worked," she laughed, holding the hand that had caressed her up between them. His skin was no longer plaid, and with a wicked smile she brought his fingers to her lips, tasting herself on him. It was almost enough to make her want to start the process over again. Had her family not been downstairs, probably wondering where they'd gone and what those suspicious sounds were, she would have dragged him off to her old bedroom for a slower, proper shag. But that would have to wait until they got home after dinner. For now, Draco had to take another dosage of his stupid polyjuice potion before anyone missed them.
~*~
Charlie watched Harry watching Ginny and her fiancé with gentle mirth. Harry hadn't even finished his roast beef, which was so uncharacteristic for him that Molly had asked him if he was feeling all right.
"I know she was your first girlfriend, love," Charlie said, pitching his voice for Harry's ears alone as he traced circles on the back of Harry's hand, "but the way you're looking at her is almost enough to make me jealous."
Harry blinked, startled, and turned to face Charlie, twining their fingers together. "Huh?"
"You haven't stopped glaring all night."
Harry shook his head. "I don't like him. He's arrogant. He's... there's something off about him."
"You said the same thing when she was dating Oliver Wood," Charlie said. Ginny seemed happy enough and that was what mattered, wasn't it? "You're more protective than I am."
"I don't like him," Harry repeated resolutely.
Charlie brought Harry's hand to his lips. "I could distract you, if that would make you feel better."
For the first time that evening, the worried crease between Harry's eyes disappeared. "Oh, could you?"
Charlie caught an amused smile from Hermione, where she and Ron sat, hands similarly entwined. "Perhaps not at the dinner table," he amended, and Harry laughed.
Harry was about to respond when his attention was pulled away again. "Do you have a problem?" he demanded, and it took Charlie a moment to realise that he was talking to Ginny's fiancé. The younger man was watching them with unbridled glee.
"I should have known you were queer, Potter," David drawled. Ginny caught him by the wrist sharply, a frown clouding her features.
Harry was on his feet in a second, his wand in his hand. "Do you have a problem with that?" he demanded.
David gripped his wand and rose to his feet too, despite the way that Ginny tugged at him. "Not with your preferences. Just with you."
"Sit down!" Ginny hissed.
Charlie stood up also, a hand on Harry's shoulder, applying gentle downward pressure. "Everyone just calm down."
"You've had an attitude from the moment you arrived," Harry said stubbornly.
"Certain people bring that out in me," David said, his own wand twitching as if it were egging him on.
"You don't even know me!" Harry said, teeth gritted. Charlie knew how much his lover hated it when people judged him by his fame and reputation alone. He caught Ginny's eyes and they exchanged exasperated glances.
"Sit. Down. Now," Ginny ground out, and this time her fiancé listened to her, returning to his seat grudgingly. Harry mirrored the gesture. Charlie sat with him, placing a hand on his lover's thigh soothingly, and Harry covered it with his own hand, nails biting into Charlie's skin.
"All right?" Charlie asked his bespectacled lover.
"I don't like him," Harry repeated.
~*~
Arthur watched his children and their partners as they reposed in the sitting room after dinner. Times like these were what made him miss Bill and Percy most. Even though the room was filled with talk and laughter, it always felt as though some unique element was missing. Still, he thought as Molly sat down beside him, it was wonderful to have everyone all together. Charlie and Harry were curled up on the love seat, Harry's head resting on Charlie's shoulder. It had taken the young man many years to find a calm port amidst the chaos of his life, and he and Charlie clung to each other now with a tenacity and loyalty that warmed his heart. Ron was holding Hermione's hand, a content smile on his lips. Made for each other and always had been, he thought fondly. The twins looked like they were about to hatch another plot directed against David, and Arthur wondered if he should intervene. Ginny and David themselves were sitting on the sofa, more relaxed since the showdown at dinner. They were telling the story of a hag they'd had a run-in with in Indonesia, taking over the narrative from each other and embellishing points that were of specific importance to each of them.
Arthur didn't know what to make of the newcomer. Surely a boy so well brought up and with such an accent should be known to him. There were not enough Wizarding families in Britain to lose track of, and Arthur simply didn't know where the young man came from. Shouldn't he have gone to school with the other children? Shouldn't Arthur and Molly know his parents?
The cool arrogance he radiated couldn't be ignored, either. And yet, as he watched his daughter interacting with him, he could see nothing but devotion in the young man's eyes. And Ginny seemed happy. So what could Arthur say? Molly, of course, would fill him in on her thoughts the moment they'd said goodnight, but until then, Arthur would sit back and observe.
The story had taken an adventurous turn, and everyone in the room hung spellbound as David and Ginny wove their tale together. Perhaps what had happened in the dining room had been an anomaly. Everyone seemed to be getting along now, despite the inexplicably venomous looks that passed between David and Harry. Sometimes instant enemies were made, Arthur supposed. You just couldn't help it when you couldn't stand someone.
But as he watched his other children laughing and asking questions, he thought that perhaps, just perhaps, David might fold into the family with a minimum of difficulty. He hoped so. He wanted only for his children to be happy, after all.
~*~
Draco and Ginny were standing at the fireplace, saying their good-byes. Ginny's mum, of course, wanted them to stay the night, but Hermione couldn't really fault them for wanting to end the evening on a relatively calm note and then escape to their own place. Molly, after all, insisted that they all sleep in separate bedrooms until they were married, which meant that the only shared bed in the house belonged to Molly and Arthur. And Hermione, fond of them though she was, didn't want to think about that at all. As it was, the rest of Molly's children and their significant others had agreed to stay for the weekend, but Ginny had been intent on calling it a night. She seemed more watchful than usual about something, though Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on what was amiss.
She kissed Ginny on the cheek and did the same for her fiancé, hoping that the unpleasantness from earlier wouldn't reemerge. He stiffened a little when she touched him, and Hermione had to wonder again about him. He was such an odd person, and she couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly seemed so incongruous about him. As she stepped back, the comfortable warmth of Ron's arm circling her shoulders, she noticed that David was watching the ticking grandfather clock out of the corner of his eye. He seemed distracted, waiting for something. He extended his hand to Arthur but before they shook, a peculiar look crossed his face and he doubled over. She understood almost immediately what was happening as his skin seemed to boil and melt all at once, morphing into a different countenance, a different body, entirely. After all, she'd seen Ron and Harry undergo a similar transformation once. She just didn't understand why she was seeing what she was seeing.
Arthur shouted, and Harry and Charlie drew their wands. Ginny huffed in annoyance as David straightened, and now his blond hair and flashing eyes and defiant sneer were all too familiar. No wonder she'd had the sense all night that she'd met him before, even though she couldn't actually remember his face.
"Malfoy!" Harry and at least three of the Weasleys shouted, and a half dozen wands, including Hermione's, whipped out of the folds of various robes to point at the blond's throat.
"Stop it!" Ginny demanded.
"Ginny, it's Malfoy," Harry pointed out, and Draco actually laughed in his face.
"You think she doesn't know that, Potter?"
"You've tricked her," Harry said, not relinquishing his grasp on his wand. "You disgusting pervert."
"Harry, calm down," Ginny said, stepping between her one-time beau and her fiancé. Draco smirked at him behind her back. "And you stop that," she added, not turning around.
"Ginny?" Molly asked, bewildered, her eyes darting between Ginny and Draco. She was clearly startled.
"Polyjuice," Fred- no, George- said, slapping his forehead.
"That's why you went plaid," Fred agreed. Neither was smiling. Plaid? Hermione wondered what she had missed.
"Ginny, are you out of your mind?" Ron cried. Hermione glanced at him. He was alarmingly pale, almost gray, his freckles standing out starkly.
"Don't be an idiot," Hermione said, smacking his arm, and she lowered her wand. Ginny smiled at her gratefully, but Hermione didn't return the smile. Malfoy. She couldn't understand how Ginny could bring that bastard home, let alone want to marry him. Maybe Ron hadn't been too far off the mark after all.
"Death Eater scum," Harry said. "Ginny, get out of the way. He has you under the Imperius, he-"
"Don't be insulting, Harry," Ginny said, sounding really angry now. "I can think for myself, thank you very much." She took him by the arm and firmly pushed his wand away. Draco looked more than a little relieved not to be standing in front of its business end any longer.
"Why would you do this?" Arthur said, puzzled.
"He's twisted," Harry snapped.
"You all thought I was charming," Draco rebuked. "Well, all except you, Potter, though it's hardly my fault that you have neither manners nor discernment. Not one of the rest of you had a problem with me. "
"Want to bet?" the twins said in unison.
"Would you have let me in the door had I shown up like this?" Draco said triumphantly. "I don't think so."
"Of course we would have," Molly said, sounding tired and angry. "I'm the one who answered the door. If you make Ginny happy, then I'd have let you in. I can't believe you would do something like this, young man."
Draco looked disconcerted at the note of maternal displeasure that Molly was so good at. "It was the easiest way," he said, sounding unsure of himself now.
"I'm very disappointed in both of you," Molly said.
Ginny bristled. "I told him it was a stupid idea."
"You're both staying here tonight," Molly said firmly.
"What?" Ginny asked at the same time that Draco said, "Why?"
"Because we're going to sort this all out, and we're going to start fresh in the morning," Molly said in a tone that brooked no argument. "And we will begin the way we should have begun. Ginny, you and Hermione can stay in your old bedroom."
"Fine," Ginny muttered, arching an eyebrow at Hermione, who nodded once. Let the shuffling of bedfellows begin, she thought to herself.
"Draco, you can stay with... hmmm." She looked at the glowering faces in the room, and apparently decided that it might not be safe to house Draco with any of them. "You can stay in Percy's old room."
"Mum, no!" four different voices cried.
"You can't desecrate Percy's room like that," Ron snapped, and Hermione elbowed him again. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Oh, let him," the twins said.
Arthur nodded. "Settled, then."
"Excellent," Molly agreed. "Charlie, you and the twins can bunk together. Harry and Ron in Ron's room. All right?"
"All right," a dull chorus of voices responded, and Molly sent them all off to bed.
~*~
"Livid" wasn't a strong enough word to describe either Ron or Harry as they sat facing each other in Ron's room.
"It's disgusting," Ron said for the eighteenth time.
"He's cursed her," Harry said for the nineteenth.
"Maybe it's some weird bonding thing," Ron moaned, covering his face with his hands. "Like, they were both cursed and they have to get married or die."
"But she could have told us!" Harry raged. "We could have broken a curse like that! Maybe he's blackmailing her."
"Maybe she's gone mad!"
"Maybe Hermione's right," a quiet, firm voice said from the doorway, "and you're both being idiots."
Harry and Ron both turned to see Charlie leaning against the doorframe. Ron saw Harry's face light up the way it always did around Charlie, but Ron glared. "You don't know Malfoy like we do," he insisted.
"I think Ginny would say the same thing," Charlie said, sitting on the bed next to Harry, his head nearly touching the sloping ceiling of Ron's room. "Didn't either of you see how happy she was around him all night?"
"Yes, but-" Harry said.
"And she didn't look the least bit surprised when he turned into himself," Charlie continued.
"We know, but-"
"So maybe she knows something about him that we don't," Charlie pressed on. "You know the Order could never have won without the information he passed on to us. That must say something about his true nature."
"That slimy, smarmy, sleazy git isn't ever going to change," Harry said, jaw set tenaciously.
"He was a bastard in school and he's a bastard now," Ron agreed.
Charlie shook his head. "Let's just see how it goes in the morning, shall we?"
Ron and Harry sighed in unison, neither acquiescing nor outright saying no.
"Excellent," Charlie said, sounding frighteningly reminiscent of their mum. "Go away now, Ron."
Ron spluttered. "Excuse me? This is my room!"
"And it's going to be cramped if the three of us are sharing it," Charlie said. Harry actually blushed beside him. Ron felt his own cheeks heat.
"I can't believe you're throwing me out of my own room."
"Go find Hermione," Charlie suggested.
"She's sharing with Ginny."
Now Harry and Charlie both looked at him like he was insane. "Oh. Oh! Ew!" Ron gasped. "You think she's with Malfoy right now?"
"If she's not, you can go bunk with George," Charlie said. "Fred's gone off to rendezvous with Angelina anyway."
Ron muttered under his breath as he slid into his dressing gown. He shot them both a lethal glare and slammed the door behind him. He would have stomped away before it occurred to him that stomping would alert his parents to the fact that he was out of bed. And grown up though he was, he knew his mother still had the power to send him to his room when he stayed at home.
He whispered down the stairs to the third floor, avoiding the steps that moaned and the floorboards that creaked. The corridor was empty, and Ron was utterly torn between wanting to find Hermione alone and desperately wanting Ginny to be there too, which meant that she was nowhere near Malfoy. Malfoy- disgusting!
He knocked tentatively on the bedroom door, and it opened marginally. A slim, sure hand slipped out and grabbed his wrist, hauling him inside.
"About time you decided to show up," Hermione said with a grin, twining her arms around his neck.
"Ginny's not here," Ron sighed, and Hermione actually laughed.
"You were hoping she would be?"
Ron blushed. "Not like that! I just... you know."
"Malfoy," Hermione said with a nod. "I know. I talked to her though. This really is what she wants, Ron."
"But what if-"
"I shot a finite incantatem at her the second we were alone," Hermione said, looking sheepish. "She wasn't impressed with me, but at least we know that she isn't being controlled by him."
Ron sneaked his hands beneath the hem of her night shirt, stroking the soft skin of her lower back, and she hummed with pleasure, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. Somehow, this always made him feel better, and he parted her lips with his tongue. Perhaps this night wasn't a total disaster after all-
"BACK TO YOUR BEDS, EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!" A magically amplified voice sliced through the stillness of the room, and Hermione and Ron jumped apart guiltily.
"How does she do that?" Hermione said, straightening her nightshirt.
"She's Mum," Ron moaned, flushing scarlet.
"Good night, Ron," Hermione said resignedly. She brushed a kiss against his cheek and retreated back to her bed.
Ron shook his head and walked back out into the hallway, just in time to see Ginny coming up one flight of stairs and Charlie going down the other. From the state of dishevelment of them both, Ron could tell they'd been caught in flagrante delicto by Mum's voice.
"She caught Fred going out the Floo," Ginny said furiously. "Stupid git forgot to disarm it and the alarm went off in the parents' room." She passed them both, cursing furiously as she slammed the door.
Charlie finished buttoning his pajama top. "What do you want to bet that he did it on purpose?"
"What, to make sure she didn't spend the night with Malfoy?" Ron asked.
Charlie grinned. "Of course. And also to make sure the rest of us were caught just as red-handed."
"Bastard."
"He and George must be in hysterics right now."
Ron muttered a few of the curses that Ginny had. "Do please pants him when you get back there."
"Done," Charlie said with a nod. "'Night, Ron."
"'Night." Ron did stomp back up the stairs this time. This was not a good night. Not a good night at all.
Oh well. He'd talk it over with Harry. Maybe tomorrow they'd throw Malfoy off the roof to see if ferrets could fly. Then at least it wouldn't be a completely lost weekend. Grinning with satisfaction at the thought, he slammed the bedroom door.
Fin