Dabble: Wedding
It's my birthday, and I feel like posting a drabble.
Summery: Ron is upset over an engagement announcement.
Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise stated) are property of their original creator, and I make no money from using them in the creation or posting of my drabble/fiction.
Characters: Ron Weasley, Hermione Weasley (nee Granger)
No one was more surprised at the engagement announcement of Luther Weasley and Una Malfoy than Ron Weasley. He had spent the last twenty minutes sputtering over the creamy white invitation that had been dropped off that very afternoon, by a very creamy white owl (possibly charmed).
The indignity of it all. His grandson to marry a Malfoy... It all stemmed from being sorted into Slytherin. Yes that was it. The very first Weasley in Slytherin and he ends up marrying a Malfoy.
Ron would have continued, if his rather irritated wife had not chosen that moment to flog the back of his head with a rolled up ‘Sunday Edition’ of the Daily Prophet. “Really, Ronald. Get. Over. It. She’s a nice girl from a nice family-” Ron couldn’t help but add a snort to this. “-and they’re in love.”
“She’s likely used a potion.”
With a roll of her eyes Hermione snatch the invitation out of his hands, pulled a slightly crumbled photograph from the forgotten envelope, and shoved it under Ron’s nose. Staring back at his grandfather with a massive grin, was none other than Luther, all ginger haired and broad of shoulders. Wrapped possessively in his arms was a small, green eyed, silver haired woman. Well she would have been silver haired if said tresses didn’t explode with a rainbow of colors as the man in the photo leaned down for a kiss. “If that doesn’t prove it to you, then I just don’t know.”
“Prove what? That she’s a Metamorphmagus. That’s all that I see this proving.”
“She looses her wits every time... “ She threw up her hands at Ron’s blank stair. “You know what? Nevermind. Just go get ready. There’s a engagement dinner at Malfoy Manor tonight. I’ll not be missing it.” Hermione stomped away muttering about teaspoons and emotional ranges and how she didn’t understand men. Before reaching the kitchen door, she turned and with her hands firmly on her hips she said, “Harry will be there, so don’t come back and make some excuse about not knowing anyone, because I won’t except it.”
With the angry slam of the kitchen door, Ron was left staring at the rather flattering blush that spread across Una Malfoy’s white cheeks every ten seconds. After about the eleventh time, he stood and made his way silently to the bedroom to get ready for the party.
Summery: Ron is upset over an engagement announcement.
Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise stated) are property of their original creator, and I make no money from using them in the creation or posting of my drabble/fiction.
Characters: Ron Weasley, Hermione Weasley (nee Granger)
No one was more surprised at the engagement announcement of Luther Weasley and Una Malfoy than Ron Weasley. He had spent the last twenty minutes sputtering over the creamy white invitation that had been dropped off that very afternoon, by a very creamy white owl (possibly charmed).
The indignity of it all. His grandson to marry a Malfoy... It all stemmed from being sorted into Slytherin. Yes that was it. The very first Weasley in Slytherin and he ends up marrying a Malfoy.
Ron would have continued, if his rather irritated wife had not chosen that moment to flog the back of his head with a rolled up ‘Sunday Edition’ of the Daily Prophet. “Really, Ronald. Get. Over. It. She’s a nice girl from a nice family-” Ron couldn’t help but add a snort to this. “-and they’re in love.”
“She’s likely used a potion.”
With a roll of her eyes Hermione snatch the invitation out of his hands, pulled a slightly crumbled photograph from the forgotten envelope, and shoved it under Ron’s nose. Staring back at his grandfather with a massive grin, was none other than Luther, all ginger haired and broad of shoulders. Wrapped possessively in his arms was a small, green eyed, silver haired woman. Well she would have been silver haired if said tresses didn’t explode with a rainbow of colors as the man in the photo leaned down for a kiss. “If that doesn’t prove it to you, then I just don’t know.”
“Prove what? That she’s a Metamorphmagus. That’s all that I see this proving.”
“She looses her wits every time... “ She threw up her hands at Ron’s blank stair. “You know what? Nevermind. Just go get ready. There’s a engagement dinner at Malfoy Manor tonight. I’ll not be missing it.” Hermione stomped away muttering about teaspoons and emotional ranges and how she didn’t understand men. Before reaching the kitchen door, she turned and with her hands firmly on her hips she said, “Harry will be there, so don’t come back and make some excuse about not knowing anyone, because I won’t except it.”
With the angry slam of the kitchen door, Ron was left staring at the rather flattering blush that spread across Una Malfoy’s white cheeks every ten seconds. After about the eleventh time, he stood and made his way silently to the bedroom to get ready for the party.