Summary: It is three years after the war has ended; five years after Dumbledore's death. Harry is invited to a wedding where he sees all the people he has been studiously ignoring for all this time.
Just some D/G Harry bashing(ish)
Categories: Works in Progress Characters: None
Compliant with: None
Era: None
Genres: Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 3
Completed: No
Word count: 8387
Read: 10193
Published: Oct 20, 2006
Updated: Jan 08, 2007
1. Harry Gets a Bit of a Crush by nun outfits are cool
2. Draco's Very Bad Day by nun outfits are cool
3. Gnomes, Rescuer Extrordinaires, and a Dance or Two. by nun outfits are cool
Harry Gets a Bit of a Crush by nun outfits are cool
Author's Notes:
Hey, this is my first fanfiction on this site, so be kind and review :)
Obviously, I do not own any of JK Rowlings amazing and wonderful world. If I did then I would be out on the town, with Draco Malfoy.....
Chapter 1 - Harry gets a bit of a crush…
*Before the war and all that…*
“Ginny,” Harry Potter sighed theatrically, “Ginny I can’t stand the thought of you being targeted-because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I think we should get away from each other before Voldemort finds out about us. I won’t let that happen, Ginny. I just can’t…”
As he gazed into her brown eyes, Ginny sighed also, knowing he wouldn’t budge on this. “Okay, Harry, but don’t get yourself killed, and don’t expect me to wait forever, or not to join the Order. I’ll be of age in a year and I have my own demons to face…”
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About two years after Dumbledore’s death, Harry emerged, victorious, from the rather large pile of debris that had once been the Ministry of Magic. He had defeated the Dark and Evil Lord Voldemort, and was feeling quite chuffed with himself. The Great War, as many were calling it, had been long and arduous, with many deaths and even more minor lacerations. None of Harry’s friends had died; Hermione had suffered more paper cuts than anything else, they had all proved themselves again and again, first with their search for the Horcruxes, and then in the battlefield. It had been Draco Malfoy who had killed Nagini, surprisingly, as revenge for his mother’s death. With the final Horcrux destroyed, Harry had been able to kill old Voldie easily enough.
There had been his moments of doubt, of course… That one time when Bellatrix Lestrange had had him tied at the top of a Very Tall Cliff had been a bit of a nail biter, but he had pulled through; Ginny Weasley had managed to levitate him down, recover his wand, and ward off other Death Eaters in the area. His encounter with the Very Large Insect had been slightly perturbing too, and he had rather thought he was a bit done for, but Ginny Weasley had successfully stupefied and arrested Lucius Malfoy, freed Harry, returned safely to headquarters with the both of them and gathered the information of the Death Eater’s hiding place from a reluctant Malfoy. His most perplexing brush had happened there; being rather caught unawares with a shoelace untied, he had almost been hit with one of Voldemort’s Very Nasty Curses, but Ginny Weasley had deflected it, before finally leaving Harry to Do His Thang.
The rest, as they say in wizard-land, is history. Harry Potter returned from the battlefield a hero in his own right, having rid the land of the wicked beasties. Due to his now evident evil-fighting skills, he was very rich and famous. Girls flocked from Very Far Away Places to be by his side and to giggle excitedly at his tales of brave deeds. Street-vending-people made Harry Potter statues and love struck witches wrote books of his heroic escapades, (with rather embellished romantic encounters). Harry developed a taste for eminence and adulation, and was never seen out without some pretty witch on his arm. He always got what he wanted, and now lived in a Very Large House, with house elves and the like.
Hermione Granger did not forgive Harry for his treatment of the elves, and took herself off to study in the Mediterranean a year after the war. Ron followed her, because he loved her, and because Harry was unlikely to notice his absence. Harry did notice his friends had gone, but he assumed they’d be back shortly, to live off his fame and popularity like lots of his new friends seemed to do. He continued to bask in the glory of his valiant and daring deeds, becoming a professional Quidditch player for a while, an actor, a singer/songwriter…
@@@
In fact, Harry didn’t hear from either of his best friends until he received a letter about three years after the War had ended. He was rudely awoken by a rather old but still Very Mad Owl, who he vaguely remembered as Pig. The small creature hopped excitedly around his head as he read the letter, written in Hermione’s neat handwriting.
Dear Harry,
Though I know we have not spoken in years, you were always a good friend to Ron and I in school. I am writing to invite you to our wedding next Thursday. It would mean a lot to Ron if you would come, I know you are well; that fact is well documented. The wedding will be at The Burrow, and we have invited the other Order members. The press will not be there, however, so you can be yourself again. Don’t bring a date; we want the wedding to be small. Mrs. Weasley has missed you, and, considering all she and her family have done for you over the years, I think the least you can do is to see her again.
Hermione
After re-reading the letter once, Harry turned to the owl, which was obviously waiting for a response. He sent a brief note of affirmation. It was charming, elegant, but decidedly polite and slightly cool. He had wished to distance himself as much as possible from the Weasleys, and others like them. They were not terribly good for his image, and, to be honest, he found it rather embarrassing the way they all fawned over him. He knew he was fabulous, of course, but there was a limit to how much adoration he could stand. He was a modest wizard, after all.
@@@
Ginny Weasley opened her eyes on the morning of her youngest brother’s wedding. She stretched her arms and gazed absent-mindedly around her old room. It was still the room of a child, a little girl’s blue-and-pink haven. Being in the room used to bring back painful memories; it was there that the great Harry Potter had dumped her for the last time. But now she could recall without much bitterness all that had happened in there. With a sigh, she got up off the bed and padded down the hall to Hermione’s room, to help her get ready for the biggest day of her life.
As she suspected, the older witch was in a bit of a state. She was wandering around the room, muttering something about French revolutions. Ginny seriously considered backing s-l-o-w-l-y out of the door and escaping, but Hermione turned around as she was about to exit.
“Oh, Ginny!” Hermione flung herself into Ginny’s arms, nearly knocking her over.
Ginny muttered some kind of consoling words into Hermione’s hair and she straightened up slightly.
“Well,” she said shakily, “let’s get this over with then.”
@@@
Harry arrived at The Burrow slightly late (fashionably so). He was slightly taken aback by Mrs. Weasley’s enthusiastic embrace, but favoured her with an indulgent smile all the same. He asked where he might find the groom-to-be. Molly Weasley sniffed happily as she informed Harry that Ron was behind the old oak tree in the garden.
Ron was practicing some sort of speech with Neville when Harry approached. He cocked a handsomely inquisitive eyebrow and waited for Ron to finish. When he had, Harry gave a discreet cough. Ron’s own rather bushy eyebrows shot upwards, and he turned to face his former best friend.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” Harry replied, smiling politely.
Ron looked as if he could have said more, but chose instead to hold out his hand. They shook hands in a grown up, reserved way, any old familiarity long gone. Maybe more could have been said or done, but neither was very inclined to be the one to cave in and admit they might have missed each other.
That being said, there was a wedding to be getting on with, and Ron was very preoccupied with sweating profusely and wringing his hands. He began babbling about muggle knights, and did not notice Harry slip away silently, to find a seat and to wait for this rather trying ordeal to be over.
@@@
The ceremony was truly beautiful, Ginny decided. Hermione looked beautiful and she watched from her side as Ron spoke about his love for the witch he was about to marry. Though his speech was a bit long-winded, and contained rather more about badgers than was strictly normal, it was touching, and heartfelt, and she could see that for all Hermione cared, it could have been a dirty limerick, because she was very happy, rather fond of badgers herself, and she was in love. Once the representative from the ministry had finished their rites, Ron and Hermione led the way to the makeshift dance floor, on the lawn where they used to play Quidditch as children.
Ginny wandered in her mother’s direction, her head full of happy thoughts. Unfortunately for her, she failed to notice anyone in her way until it was too late. Within seconds, she was on the floor in a rather untidy heap. Blindly, she took the hand that was offered to assist her. Brushing herself off, she looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes, flashing behind trademark glasses.
@@@
Harry, to be perfectly honest, was faintly bored by the service. Hermione appeared to be dressed in an oversized meringue and the red head, who had once known all of his secrets, and fears, was waffling on about badgers. The smartest witch in his year was smiling mushily. It would be mortifying to think of this pair as anything above old acquaintances.
So, instead of watching the ceremony, Harry surveyed the guests, hoping to find some attractive distant relative or other to make the day not a complete waste of time.
Looking around, he believed he had found the lucky witch. She was standing behind Hermione, so his view was partly obscured, but he was sure she was lovely. She had the long, flowing red Weasley hair, but it was darker than Ron’s, and fell in loose curls down her back. She was dressed in green, and Harry could see that she had long, lovely legs and a decent chest at that. It was decided, then. He would be taking that girl home tonight.
After the ceremony, Harry strolled casually over to where the girl was headed and stood in front of her, waiting for her to gasp when she realised that she was in the presence of The Great Harry Potter; Boy Who Lived to defeat the evil Lord Voldemort. Harry smiled modestly at the thought. No girl stood a chance in the face of his fame and glory. She would look up any second now.
The girl crashed straight into him, falling over in the process. Harry reassessed; a bit clumsy, perhaps, but she was still very attractive. He bent elegantly to help her up, and smirked slightly when he saw the amazement in her face.
“Harry Potter.”
“Yes, I’m an old friend of Ron’s, but I don’t believe we’ve met. How do you know the Weasleys? Distant relation?”
The look of astonishment vanished from the girl’s face.
“I don’t really think that is any of your business any more, Mr. Potter. Excuse me.”
Harry barely had time to mask a slight frown. He had never had that effect on women before. He wondered what kind of game the redhead was playing. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, though; he was sure he’d win. He always did.
@@@
Ginny Weasley Was Bristling With Rage and Indignation. She had not known Harry would be there, though she should probably picked up on her mother’s excitement in seeing “All the members of the Order together again, dear…” Ginny had not thought seriously about Harry Potter in over a year, though seeing his face everywhere was unavoidable. Obviously, he was not quite so modest now the papers were being complimentary…
But this was a wedding, she reminded herself, and she was not going to spoil it. Ginny plastered a charming smile on her face and stepped back out into the crowd of people surrounding the dancing area thing.
@@@
Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody were talking about new developments to the Wolfsbane potion when Harry approached them. Both Aurors looked startled at the interruption, but Lupin did his best to include Harry in their conversation.
Harry was not really in a mood to be lectured by old professors, and so as soon as it was possible, he found an excuse to change the subject. The mysterious girl in the green dress reappeared and Harry saw his Window of Opportunity.
“Remus, who’s the girl over there in the green dress?”
It was Moody who goggled. “It’s Ginny Weasley,” he answered gruffly. “Don’t you remember you own best friend’s sister??”
As Harry’s eyes widened, Moody shook his head. “No offence, Potter,” he growled, his voice dripping with unexpressed resentment, “but I don’t think you stand a chance there. Bit out of your league, don’t you think?”
Harry repressed the urge to glower fiercely at Moody. He always got what he wanted, and if he decided that he wanted Ginny Weasley again, the girl would be in his arms before the hour. In fact, he knew that Ginny had been madly in love with him. Ever since she’d laid eyes on him, actually. He would show Moody that no one was out of Harry Potter’s league.
@@@
Ginny jumped as someone put their hands on her shoulders. A low voice whispered in her ear,
“Didn’t you miss me at all, Ginny?”
She whirled around to face Harry, who was smiling ruefully down at her. Sighing, she removed the offending hands.
“What do you want, Potter?”
Harry did a very good impression of a Very Apologetic Person. Ginny was not convinced. She arched an eyebrow and turned away from him, striding purposely off to speak with Colin Creevey, who had joined the Order with her after Hogwarts.
This Ginny Weasley was certainly a far cry from the dirty, exhausted girl who had smiled happily at him after The War. He had avoided that girl as much as possible, and focused instead on the pretty ones. The girl standing just a few meters away, however, was stunning, easily surpassing the most attractive of his beloved groupies. As he watched her go to dance with Dean Thomas, her ex-boyfriend, Harry felt the return of a long-forgotten monster rearing its ugly head in the pit of his stomach. He thought back to its first appearance in his sixth year at Hogwarts, seeing her kiss Thomas. Since dating her himself, he had enjoyed her obvious adoration, so he kept her around, or so he told himself. Without Dumbledore there to twist him into the perfect moral hero, Harry had thrived on the worship of others, and since the War was over, he was never short of girls willing to adore him and help him to come to terms with his traumatic past.
Now, though, he decided, he would fight for what he deserved. After all, he had defeated the Dark and Evil Lord Voldemort. He deserved some kind of reward for all he had done. He would make Ginny see that, and he was sure she’d agree, given time to adjust her views accordingly. It would take a while, probably, longer than expected, but it would be worth it. His plan had to start now though. He headed purposefully towards the dance floor when Neville Longbottom stepped in front of him.
“Harry, I saw you staring at Ginny, and I think that you should go.”
Glaring ferociously at Neville, Harry sidestepped.
“Harry, as best man, you’ll only cause trouble if you do this. I don’t want to be the one to stop a fist fight breaking out.”
Repressing a snort of laughter, Harry drew himself up to his full height, only to find that the once short-and-pudgy Neville was a good two inches taller than him.
“Neville, I am very proud of you for finding your Gryffindor courage, but I’d like to try and sort this out on my own. What do you say?” Harry grinned with his very best hearty grin and made to step past Neville again.
“Harry, you don’t want to do that. Her boyfriend is even more protective of her than her brothers are, and it was him that she told she didn’t ever want you near her again.”
Feeling his little green friend roar in anger at the bottom of his stomach, he growled,
“Boyfriend?? And who has she seen fit to replace me with?”
“Turn around,” said Neville.
Author's notes: okay, I think you can guess who Ginny’s boyfriend is…
Also, I’m a bit sorry that I made Harry such a git, but I think he deserved it, really… PLEASE REVIEW
Draco's Very Bad Day by nun outfits are cool
Author's Notes:
Phew...
I have just finished this chapter, thank you sooo much for your lovely lovely reviews. Unfortunately, they managed to make my head Very Large, and I couldn't fit through the door to write the next chapter...
Also, they made me feel guilty, because what I had of the second chapter didn't seem as good as the first... I still don't think it's fabby, but I did try to make it as good as possible.
*No humiliating Harry, that comes later, but when it does come it will be Good. hahahahha...
Also, by the way, every second box is just telling us about Draco's Very Bad Day... Umm, there was lots of stuff in italics, but I'm sure it'll be clear enough...
I hope you like this chapter :)
Draco’s Very Bad Day
Draco Malfoy had been having a Very Bad Day.
It had started in the morning, as most days which are bad tend to do. He had woken at a ridiculous hour to find Neville Longbottom sitting on the end of his bed.
~@@@~
“You are coming today, aren’t you, Malfoy?”
Draco had groaned and rolled over. “I don’t have time for your pathetic whining, Longbottom. Now go away, I am very busy and important.”
Though he was, technically, still half asleep, Draco had deigned to open one eye and glare at the sandy-haired man. Wisely, Neville had retreated from range, but unfortunately, failed to look very scared.
“Malfoy, you know they won’t forgive you if you don’t come. Hermione is your best friend, and she wants you at her wedding. Get your very annoying self down to the Burrow right now.”
Snapping to attention, Draco pushed off his bed sheets, managing, inexplicably, to look alert and commanding with his hair ruffled and his eyes full of sleep.
“Why do I care who Granger is marrying?”
Neville let out a sudden exclamation of annoyance. “Malfoy, I swear on everything that is good and holy, I would kill you if we DID NOT HAVE A WEDDING TO GET TO!!!”
“Longbottom, I am not in the right state of mind to give you the full verbal beating you deserve for waking me up at this very unholy hour to drag me to an abomination of a wedding that no one should have any part in. Rest assured, however, that when I am fully woken, you will be receiving several very witty…”
Draco yawned expressively,
“…cutting and scathing phrases that will anger you no end.”
Reclining gracefully on the bed, he continued, “and anyway, I have already expressed my regret that I cannot witness this sham of a marriage being legalised. I have important business to detain me. I will come if I have time, as I have already explained to Granger. Really, you should be grateful for my willingness to shine even that smallest ray of hope into your dull life. It is a huge sacrifice on my part, I can assure you. Do not take it lightly…”
Refraining from muttering some scathing comments of his own, Neville had decided to try and broach a new topic.
“That isn’t the only reason I wanted to talk to you, though Malfoy…” Neville puffed out his chest,
“No.”
“…you see, it has fallen to me…”
“No.”
“…to bear the honour of being the best man…
“No.”
“…and I was wondering, I have to do a speech…”
“Out, Longbottom, before I end up doing something I will not regret.”
“…so would you help me prepare it?”
“Longbottom, OUT!”
Neville took the hint.
~@@@~
Draco looked up at the oversized clock on the wall of the kitchen he was in. He was not late. Malfoys were never late; the party only ever began when they arrived, but he had the suspicion that Hermione might be a little miffed if the party did not start until all the other guests had gone home.
Hearing a pointed cough, he turned politely back to the witch who was talking at him, wondering how he could get out before he grew a Very Long Beard. He needed to leave soon, if not immediately. Though her… usefulness prevented him from being rude, the young woman in front of him had been talking for the past hour and he was becoming desperate for escape.
~@@@~
After Longbottom had left him, Draco set about getting himself some much-needed coffee. He rolled out of bed, grumbling softly about the audacity of Hermione letting Neville use the one day only floo connection she had to Draco’s flat. A man needed his own personal space now and again. When the space didn’t include Longbottom, he needed it all the time.
The pressing engagement he had warned Longbottom off with wasn’t actually one he had discussed with Hermione. He had received an owl last night from the secretary for the Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, who was rather senile with a tendency to ramble; it was too late to deal with that night, but it was strongly recommended that he come to get his good friend Blaise Zabini out of a spot of bother that he was sure would be dealt with speedily, but was nonetheless a bit tiresome…
The old man had gone off on a bit of a tangent, but the gist of the letter was that Zabini had got into an argument with a patron of a local wizarding bar and his large friends. He was at St. Mungo's, apparently delirious and addressing all of the female nurses as Daniel.
Draco would have dearly loved to leave him there, where he might at least get the treatment he deserved from one of those nurses. But after Neville left, remembering why Zabini would have been in the area where he met his newest friends, Draco shot out of his seat with a dramatic,
“Fuck!!”
Draco paced magnificently around his flat with an expression on his face that might have looked frantic, but was actually a very Malfoyish disdain for his current situation. He needed to decide on an appropriate Course of Action. It would do him no good at all to go down to St. Mungo’s and throttle the life out of that no-good, idiotic, foolish, thoughtless… person that he had to call a friend. No good at all… theoretically, it could have therapeutic purposes, though…
Leaping out of his reverie, and into action, he threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, bracing himself and calling out,
“The Burrow!”
As he felt the familiar distasteful ‘whooshing’ sensation, Draco saw the cluttered kitchen of the Weasleys' home spin into focus…
And out again. He found himself in a bedroom, covered in soot. Mentally cursing whichever of the Weasley twins he was sure was behind this, he tried to find an exit. He opened a door that looked promising, positioning his signature sneer in case he met any member of the family.
He stepped into the room and was immediately assaulted with something that looked suspiciously like a muggle umburulla. Turning to face his attacker, he blanched. Facing him was a barely-clothed Professor Minerva McGonagall. Inexplicably, lazing on the bed behind her was Ernie Macmillan, in a similar state of undress.
McGonagall didn’t even have the grace to blush, but, noticing her attire, grabbed a dressing gown from the bed and glared accusingly at Draco, daring him to speak.
Thoroughly astonished in a way that no Malfoy should ever be, Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times. When he turned back to the bed, the expression on the former Hufflepuff’s face was sinister.
“Had a good gawk, have we?”
Draco blinked.
“You know, Malfoy, it’s not polite to stare. Minerva here is with me, and if you feel uncontrollable lust when looking at her, as I know I do, well it’s just too bad, isn’t it?”
McGonagall smiled and batted her eyelashes demurely at the crazed man in her bed. Draco, temporarily speechless, almost didn’t register the rest of Ernie’s pompous speech, which was turning into a poor imitation of Draco’s youthful drawl, (his grown-up drawl was far superior), the drawl that came from innocent, carefree times, times before his eyes had been burned at the sight of his old professor in her underwear.
“…and though we do pride ourselves on being a progressive couple, we have both agreed never to do anything with,” he sneered, “Slytherins.”
Though Malfoy tradition would have had Draco apply a superior, biting comment at this point, he found himself still in no position to uphold his family customs, so he backed out of the room, leaving the offensive scene. He Disapparated quickly, ending up in an alley somewhere. Hoping for the best, he walked along it until he came to a dead end. He needed to get to the Burrow, to explain his lateness, but Arthur Weasley had, in a moment of misguided protectiveness during The War, made the place impenetrable. It was impossible to Apparate into the Burrow or any of the surrounding woodlandish areas, which really was very counter-productive to Draco’s needs.
Thinking more clearly now, his sneer back in place and his hair smoothed, Draco felt just about ready to hit the town. Anywhere with a fireplace would do, and, after his recent Very Traumatic Experience, he didn’t want to have to deal with irate Weasleys.
From somewhere behind him, he heard discreet cackling. He whirled around, as one would, if faced with a similar situation involving cackling.
The cackling got louder, and two hulking figures emerged from the shadows of the now Very Obviously Shadowy, Dark and Scary Alley.
They just had to be hulking, though didn’t they? Draco was really not in the mood for a thrilling adventure, and would almost have preferred to go back to his flat, and face whatever music he knew was possibly waiting for him.
As if on cue, an owl landed heavily on his shoulder, bearing a red envelope. Of course, the owl was Pigwidgeon, and the Letter that Howled was from a very irate Neville Longbottom.
Hulking figures forgotten, he reluctantly opened the steaming missive. Neville’s voice soon filled the alleyway, not angry, but entirely self-assured, quietly and superiorly berating Draco. The nasal, pompous quality that apparently no one else had noticed came through also.
“Her wedding day, Malfoy? The happiest day of your friend’s life, and where are you? Probably lazing in bed, like the little prince I know you see yourself as, while your girlfriend is getting attention from… people.”
Draco could almost see the self satisfied smile Longbottom would get writing that, knowing the effect it would have on Draco. Involuntarily, his fingers curled into fists, just as the first and second forgotten hulking figures came up to him, looming menacingly. The cackling stopped, and a short person came out of the shadows.
~@@@~
Finally out of the woman’s house (though not without relinquishing his Floo address), Draco walked into the Leaky Cauldron, looking for a safe spot. He activated the portkey Tom kept behind the Bar, and finally found himself at the Burrow. There was no one inside the house when he arrived, but he knew Molly liked to keep her guests outside in the fine weather, so there was nothing strange there. He pushed open the back door, ready to face whoever was giving Ginny trouble…
~@@@~
(Back to the Hufflepuff fun…)
The short person turned out to be Justin Finch-Fletchley, dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses and a fake moustache. After the war, the former muggle private school boy had turned to a life of organized crime, for reasons unknown to any but Minerva McGonagall, that well known stealer of strong men’s hearts.
When Finch-Fletchley spotted Draco, he commenced his highly unattractive cackling. He patted one of his goons fondly on the head and walked forward slowly, in what he must have supposed was a mysterious manner.
“Malfoy,” the second ex-Hufflepuff to alarm Draco that day stroked his goatee in deranged uncle style.
“Hufflepuff,” Draco managed to get out in a suitably haughty voice.
“Actually, I prefer to go by The Annilhator these days…”
“Oh.” Draco drew a breath. “Get out of my way you detestable spawn of chipmunks. I refuse to listen to one more word of nonsense from a Hufflepuff. You disgust me with your blatant disregard for everything good and natural. Cower a bit, for I am an Evil Slytherin, after all. Why can’t you fit your role and be scared??? I am your superior, and I can cackle far better. Move.”
The Annilhator pouted. “But I have hulking figures…”
Draco growled, and Justin leapt behind said hulking people.
“Get him, boys!!” he squeaked.
The hulking figures loomed menacingly. Though his lightning-fast reflexes were very fast, the hulking figures grabbed both his arms before he could get to his wand.
From a safe distance, The Annilhator resumed his cackling.
Not one to flail, Draco ducked the large men’s punches. He kicked the one on his right in a strategic place, and detached himself from the others’ grasp. Thoroughly ruffled, he turned to face a wand.
The Annilhator had been multi-tasking, managing to cackle and draw his only weapon at the same time. Draco was caught in a corner before a man with a wand and his two looming bodyguards. He felt an uncomfortable sense of deja-vu, although previously his position had been reversed, and at least his victims had something gorgeous to look at…
Shaking the wand threateningly, The Annilhator poked Draco and continued his cackling, which was becoming annoying. Draco tried to surreptitiously reach for his wand, when he heard a loud “Petrificus Totalis” and his assailants froze.
From somewhere in the shadows, a girl emerged triumphantly. She swished her hair dramatically and said,
“That takes care of that.”
Not waiting for a response from Draco, she jerked her head towards The Annilhator.
“Ex-boyfriend. Sarah, by the way.” The girl gave his hand a shake. “I’ve had a Very Traumatic Life, you know.”
She burst into tears and collapsed into Draco’s arms.
“Uhh, shhh,” he said comfortingly. “There there…”
As fresh waves of sobs hit her, he guided them out of the alley, looking for somewhere to go.
“We… we could go to my house.”
This was a terrible idea, Draco knew, but he felt a little helpless.
“That’s a good idea.”
Guiding him to her house, she began talking. Her life had been one of Misery and Woe, and, unfortunately for Draco, the story was a long one. It all began when her brother ran away from home at the age of fifteen, family life had never been the same, and her parents were crushed…
~@@@~
Feeling relief he never thought he would on entering the Burrow’s back garden, Draco tried to find Ginny in the crowd. Before he could identify her in the sea of redheads on the dance floor, he was accosted by Hermione.
“Where have you been, Draco? You missed Ron’s speech!”
“Hufflepuffs,” he muttered darkly, before flashing a charming smile. “Long story… I’m here now, anyway. I got here as fast as I could.”
Somewhat mollified, Hermione began to gush. As it was her wedding day, he decided to stay on topic as he asked who had come.
“Oh, all of the Order, of course. Molly insisted we invite everyone, you know. She’s been bustling about happily all day. Even Moody and Lupin came. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan are here from our year, as well as others, who haven’t been in touch in years, though God knows we tried to keep in touch…”
She began to rant, but Draco had concentrated on the first part of the guest list. Could it be Thomas? Though he and Lavender Brown had been dating for a while, he wouldn’t put it past him… looking over the dance floor again, he spotted the two dancing. A few metres away, he saw Neville Longbottom turn and give him a Significant Look, indicating the person next to him. Leaving Hermione with a brief friendly pat on the shoulder, he edged closer to Longbottom, catching the end of his conversation.
“…don’t want to do that. Her boyfriend is even more protective of her than her brothers are, and it was him that she told she didn’t ever want you near her again.”
The man next to him growled,
“Boyfriend?? And who has she seen fit to replace me with?”
Draco gaped. It was the Boy-Who-Sulked. The Boy-Who-Couldn’t-Fight-His-Own-Battles. The bespectacled fool who had broken Ginny’s heart.
“Turn around,” said Neville.
Author’s Note: Ooh. That’s that then… I’ve had builders in to enlarge my door, just in case, you know… More reviews would be lovely, they keep me going :D
By the way, I will be posting a new story vair soon. I have already written most of it, so it won’t take much time away from this story… review them both if you are lovely. *Also, as you all know, I am very Busy and Important comes from the fabulous Bridget Jones' Diary...*
Gnomes, Rescuer Extrordinaires, and a Dance or Two. by nun outfits are cool
Author's Notes:
I am so so so sorry this chapter took so long. I had exams, and an upset computer. I will try my very best to get the next chapter out on time, but my computer is an angry and hormonal beastie, and does not like to be used for long periods of time. Most of this chapter was written on scraps of paper I found around the house... But it *is* here, so please read it...
Thanks to my beta, Naycit Malfoy.
Turning with affected grace, Harry saw his second Window of Opportunity. A Malfoy at a Weasley wedding. Not linking Neville’s talk of a boyfriend with the cool blond who faced him, he relished in his newly-resurrected role of Saviour of Poor and Innocent Weasleys. With a brief dashing smile in Ginny’s direction (which she missed), he imperiously handed his jacket to Neville, and punched Draco in the face.
Draco chose that moment to step back. Malfoys— everyone should remember— do not stagger. Then he smirked, feeling a beautiful rush of normality. What was he to do but punch the snivelling idiot back? As Potter hit the ground with a pleasing thud, Draco tried to find Ginny in the crowd.
Harry tackled his legs. Draco got out his wand. Harry found himself attacked by several vicious garden gnomes. Draco smirked. Harry unleashed his Gates of Fury and set the cutlery on him. Draco flicked his wand lazily. Harry growled as the flying silverware redirected itself. Draco smirked. Harry charged. Neville stepped in.
“Now, now, Harry,” Neville tutted, “Draco has every right to be here, though he is late.”
Harry ignored Neville. “It’s okay now, folks. I have scared Malfoy off with my impeccable duelling skills.” He pointed a finger at Draco, who was making his way through the crowd of Order members who had assembled in hopes of breaking up a fight. “I don’t think you’ll be getting any more trouble from him today, not now that I’m here… HEY!”
He had noticed the direction Draco was taking and was just a little bit thrilled. He hadn’t really had a chance to live up to his role as Saviour of Poor Little Damsels in Distress, and this was his chance. Deciding between the Strong and Muscled or Mysterious and Clever type of hero was often tricky, but he knew from personal experience that Ginny preferred the bolder kind; the Gryffindor type of hero.
Modestly protesting at the impressed noises the crowd were making, he marched up to the offending couple.
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Ginny glared at Draco.
“I’ve been stuck here with Harry bloody Potter, and all you have to say is ‘Hufflepuffs’?”
Draco shuddered. “You shouldn’t speak of them.”
Frowning, she was about to make a cutting remark of some sort when Draco’s lips cut her off. She couldn’t compete with that type of logic, really… arguing could wait.
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Harry was sickened and disgusted by what he had just witnessed. Malfoy (that slime) had forced himself on Ginny. Of course, the poor innocent girl couldn’t fight back and was now completely helpless…
…Or so she thought. Lucky for her, Harry Potter, rescuer extraordinaire was there for her.
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Draco smirked against Ginny’s lips. He was irresistible, but that was nothing new. Kissing her was wonderfully soothing; he began to forget why she’d been in such a state to begin with.
When he found himself torn bodily from her, he remembered.
Potter was standing in front of him with a mad glint in his eye that was wholly unbecoming.
An annoyed growl came from the ground.
“That’s the second time today, Potter. Would you watch where you’re going?”
In his haste to save Ginny from the evil Slytherin, Harry Potter had knocked her to the floor. Realising his (deliberate) mistake, he turned to help her up, knowing all he had to do was make a smooth remark to diffuse any anger.
“I know. You don’t seem able to stay on your feet in my presence. Maybe we should dance, so I can catch you next time you fall.”
Harry thought this was a marvellous line, and he knew it was delivered with poise. He flicked his hair expectantly.
“And it’ll keep you away from any potential danger, of course.” He jerked his head at Draco, who was smirking.
Evil Slytherin was the role he was born to play, and it had been a while since his last good Potter-baiting. “Why don’t you just leave us be, Potter? We were having a vaguely relaxing time before you so rudely interrupted us.”
Harry spluttered.
Ginny, who’d been speechless since the dancing line, disentangled herself from Harry’s arms and smirked right back at Draco. “Right, bye then, Potter.”
Harry spluttered louder.
Ginny took Draco’s hand and they sauntered off together, basking in Harry’s discomfort.
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“Neville!” A slightly more ruffled Harry Potter approached, with a recently rediscovered Truly-Upset-Look on his face.
“Malfoy’s not…”
Neville nodded gravely. “Malfoy is.”
“But… he’s an evil Death Eater!”
“Not really, if you’d remember…”
“He doesn’t deserve her! I won the War! I defeated the Dark and Evil Lord Voldemort! I have the upper hand in every kind of heroic competition.”
“Well, you did…”
“It’s not her right, even. Didn’t she say she’d always love me? Doesn’t that entitle me to something?”
“To be honest…”
“He’s controlling her. Believe me, Neville. I know Ginny Weasley far better than you ever could. She loves me, and no girl would ever lower themselves to date a Malfoy if they could be with the one they loved. Basic rule about women, you see, Neville. They follow their hearts. Guess that’s why you never seemed to get lucky in that department.” Harry followed this speech with a sympathetic smile.
Neville gave Harry a look which he had been practicing in private. It was quite scary, but would have been more effective if Harry had been paying attention. He walked off in the direction of his date, in need of a bit of an ego-booster.
Harry glared. Obviously, the people there had no respect for their saviour; if he couldn’t tell when someone was under the influence of the Imperius Curse, then who could? Of course, her family’s ignorance would make his heroism all the sweeter when he saved her. All he had to do was get her away from Malfoy. He watched as they danced past him, Malfoy effortlessly twirling the object of Harry’s thoughts. The signs were there, of course. The dazed look in Ginny’s eyes was a dead giveaway. Obviously, Malfoy’s spell-casting abilities were not up to very much. What was needed here was an Appropriate Course of Action, and as Neville was obviously not feeling helpful, he needed another way to get Ginny to talk to him. Being the well-adapted soul he was, Harry realized that he could not do this alone, and, though memories of her smothering nature were distasteful, he knew that Mrs. Weasley was his best bet.
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Ginny laughed happily as they danced, blissfully unaware of any green-eyed persons staring at her. Draco smiled back as he spun with her around the dance floor. She really was gorgeous, he thought, but that could become highly annoying in situations like these. It meant that Potter wasn’t going to give up easily, and as Ginny didn’t notice his evident change in attitude towards herself, she was far too much of a forgiving person to be allowed near him. Draco could predict the chain of events, which would, if not prevented, lead to the construction of his own personal hell. Ginny, being the ridiculously loving Gryffindor she was, had, in the past, forced him into painful conversations with a whole gang of uninviting characters. Draco needed to keep her resentment of The Boy Who Lived alive and well, to protect her from any thoughts of a beautiful friendship. He would not, under any circumstances, make small talk with the insufferable prat. He had made allowances for Ginny’s brother, but a man needed to put his foot down now and then.
There was also the matter that Potter had hurt Ginny badly and needed to pay.
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Neville watched as Harry approached Mrs. Weasley, a cheerful smile on his face. He could guess the subject of conversation; Harry wasn’t the most discreet of people, and he wasn’t happy about it. Once Draco saw the looks he had been giving Ginny, Neville had been sure he would have dealt with it, but Malfoy seemed determined not to draw his wand, save the gnome fiasco earlier. He smiled demurely as Mrs. Weasley went up to Draco and Ginny, pointing at the erstwhile saviour and nodding appealingly.
As Draco turned a shade paler, and Harry took an uncomfortable Ginny’s hand, Neville indulged in a well-deserved smirk.
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Ginny prevented herself from squirming uncomfortably. Harry Potter smiled down at her, after her mum had left them, pleased to help ‘poor Harry’ find a dance partner.
Harry looked soulfully into her eyes, but Ginny had no use for soulful looks. This was one saviour she was not going to forgive. She was quite convinced of that.
“Gin, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Harry continued to look soulful, and a bit sad. Ginny glared at the floor, weakened slightly. Maybe he had his reasons for being a prat. She always did believe in second chances…
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Harry’s scaly friend purred from somewhere in his stomach. The apology had been the Right Thing to Do. The daring rescue attempt had, obviously, softened her up, but if he knew women (and he did know women), it would have been the apology that clinched the deal. Now, he could see it in her eyes. She wanted him.
Malfoy… His presence at the wedding had been somewhat counter-productive, but he had served his purpose in the end. It was now painfully obvious that he was merely a ‘lover scorned’, as the more poetic members of his fan-club might say. Glossing over the issues of the kiss and the dancing, his pathetic attempts at seducing Ginny had been amusing, though Harry would never be so tactless as to tell that to the girl herself. He threw a generous smile at Ron and Hermione, congratulating himself on his charitable nature.
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Draco scowled. He could see Longbottom smirking unattractively. No doubt he had expected Draco to charge in to defend Ginny’s honour at the first opportunity, like so many other brave Gryffindors before him. Not that he hadn’t wanted to; seeing the Boy-Who-Lived attacked by gnomes had been very satisfying, but Ginny was very firm about ex-boyfriends and their vital organs. They hadn’t made an exception for Potter, as they had optimistically thought that they would never again be graced with his presence. Draco had been sure that the role of saviour would be performed by one of her Very Large Brothers.
Looking around, he could see how incorrect that assumption was. The two eldest were chatting happily with their respective wives, not even looking in their sister’s direction. The pompous one was primping pompously, the twins were laughing as their favourite test subject (the pompous one) neared the magical X they had drawn. The Weasel King himself was gazing mushily into Hermione’s eyes, as they danced to music which apparently only they could hear, as they were out of time with the rest of the couples. On another day, Draco might have even turned to Longbottom for assistance, but that would make him too happy. Instead, he returned to the space where Potter and Ginny had been, only to find that they were, in fact, no longer there.
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Ginny allowed herself to be led off the dance floor by Harry. She didn’t quite understand why Draco had let this slide; he was usually very firm about ex-boyfriends and secluded areas, but she was sure he had his reasons. Maybe he thought forgiveness might be sensible, too.
She smiled at the thought. Draco never considered that forgiveness might be sensible.
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Harry looked down at the smiling girl. She was obviously thinking of their beautiful future relationship. He had decided, recently, that a future relationship would be a Good Idea. He would still leave the wedding with Ginny, to prove the miserable old Auror wrong, but it could be a getting-to-know-you sort of a date, as a more permanent sort of girlfriend would certainly improve his image. There was the matter of his (currently dancing) little green creature, but that was of negligible importance.
Whatever his reasons, Ginny Weasley was a lucky girl. Harry treated her to a charming little smile he had been working on and began his speech.
“Ginny.” He took her hands and looked soulfully into her eyes once again. “These past few years have been traumatic, to say the least. I left you, here, with your family, so that I could examine myself as a person.” He sighed. “I didn’t like what I saw. I have been trying to change, for you, and for us, so I could treat you as you deserve. I know now that I didn’t go about it in the right way. The thing is I don’t think I can stand it anymore. I’m not perfect. Not yet. But I love you, and I think you could change that. Would you help me?”
Harry had to refrain from patting himself on the back. The speech was perfect; delivered with yet more poise, with the modest touches he was famous for, together with the oh-so-amazingly-clever use of the 'L' word. He checked her reaction. Stunned. The joy would come soon, he knew.
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Ginny gaped. There was Harry, who she had loved for years, telling her that he had left to become a better person. She felt awful; all those years hating him and he had had her best intentions at heart. And now she was going to have to disappoint him.
“I’m so sorry, Harry, but I’m with Draco now. We’ve been dating for almost six months and I think I love him. I was angry with you for a long time, but Draco helped me through that. I hope we can still be friends.” She smiled hopefully.
Harry stared at her, stunned. “Malfoy? But you hate him. I thought all Weasleys did.”
“It would appear not.” Draco emerged from the shadows, inexplicably. He smirked coldly at Harry. “If you bothered to look at newspapers for anything other than pictures of yourself to pin on your walls, you’d probably know that. We were the talk of the town for a while, weren’t we, dear?”
Ginny smiled up at Draco. He was right, of course. When a Weasley and a Malfoy were first seen in public together there was near uproar. Then they got dubbed the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ of the wizarding world. Some particularly nasty opposers of the match predicted that they would end up the same way. It had been unpleasant at the time, but now it lead Ginny to wonder why Harry hadn’t seen any of the articles. Surely, if he still cared about her he would have noticed?
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Thinking back, Harry could remember a time when his pictures had showed up less regularly in the newspapers, but that was of little importance.
“You’ve brainwashed her.”
“I’ve what?” Draco raised his own perfectly groomed eyebrow.
“Ginny is obviously not acting of her own free will. You’ve done something.” Harry pulled Ginny closer.
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The git grabbed Ginny and pulled her against him. Draco bristled. She wasn’t there for Potter to manhandle. If there was to be any manhandling going on, Draco would be the one to do it. He took her arm and gently drew her away from her captor.
“I assure you, Potter, such extreme methods were not necessary. She came quite willingly.”
Ginny nodded hurriedly, and added, “I really am sorry, Harry, but owl me some time and we’ll meet for a coffee or something.”
Inwardly, Draco groaned. It was the foretold tea-with-gits situation he had been dreading. Seeing the incredulous look in Potter’s eyes, he was momentarily gratified and decided to make a quick getaway.
“Ginny, we should go. I’ve got to check on Blaise.” That was true, unfortunately. The Potter situation had put it out of his mind, but the Zabini situation was rather urgent.
“What’s wrong with Blaise?” She shot him a worried look.
“I’ll tell you back at my flat.” Draco shot a wink back to Potter as they left, his arm encircling Ginny’s waist.
A/N: So what did you think? Review and let me know. I've replied to all the other reviews, so if you've commented on a previous chapter, you can see my reply... :) I hope you liked it.
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