Claims, Part Six

SERIES: Harry Potter
PAIRING: Ron/Blaise, Draco/Harry
REQUEST: continue "Claims"
WORD COUNT: 1062

I gave my boy several days to calm down his nerves, and possibly forget his worries about me. I watched him discretely, noting how Potter was led around by Drake, and how Drake was, in turn, manipulated. Ron was left alone with the mudblood most of the time, which he didn't seem to be all that happy about.

He is absolutely delicious when he's pouting, though.

It was Thursday when I got the letter from Mum that told of the announcement of the bid that would be in the Prophet the next day. I was immensely pleased with the development – maybe, if things progressed smoothly enough, we could spend Christmas together.

I already know what I'll be asking for, and it's got nothing to do with candy – well, not the kind of candy the houselves made, anyways.

So when Friday morning came, I sat myself down at the Gryffindor table and helpfully provided a sleepy Ron Weasley with the latest Prophet printing, already helpfully opened to the right page.

"Nggh?" he asked, rubbing sleepily at one eye as he stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Read it," I prompted, helping myself to a breakfast roll. "I'm sure you'll find it interesting."

He lifted the paper to read it, the toast still hanging out of his mouth as he paused in his eating, but his eyes just glanced through the article quickly before he handed it over to Granger and slumped back down, picking the toast back up again and ripping off another bite.

I didn't like it, but if he needed a second opinion…it was rather early…

"A brideprice?" the mudblood asked. "Isn't that rather outdated?"

"No – it's rather common, actually," I answered her, but didn't look at her, instead keeping my gaze on my redhead, who now looked confused. "For wizarding culture, at least – the muggles got it all backwards and messed things up, so I suppose it is better that they stopped. You probably won't get many offers, Granger – most wizarding families don't like dealing with muggles when arranging for a dowry. It causes…complications."

She glared at me only briefly before going back to the paper – apparently the article was just that interesting.

Well, I always knew that we were one of the best wizarding families in the area – almost completely pure, except for Uncle Westland, but Mum won't talk about him anymore. Oh, and that one cousin three generations back that was born a squib – of course, she wasn't allowed to carry the family name after that, so all's well.

"Isn't this an awful lot of money?" Granger asked, interrupting my thoughts.

Well. How rude. "It's only the opening bid," I answered, and did a wonderful job of keeping my disgust from creeping into my voice, if I do say so myself. I think she's only mildly annoyed, and not angry. It's somewhat hard to tell under all that frizz-ball hair. "What, do you think it's not enough?"

Ron still looked confused – and we were graced with the reason why not long after my question: "What do you mean, a lot of money?" he asked. "I mean, sure, Ginny's worth it, but it seems odd – he never even talks to her."

I laughed – it seems he only picked up on the "Weasley" part of the article, and automatically placed the dowry as for his sister. I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him close so that I could speak directly into his ear, not caring who saw or overheard. "It's not for the young female Weasley," I said, "the bid is for her slightly older, but no less adorable, brother."

"But you're both boys," Granger protested. "Isn't that…unusual?"

"What do you mean?" Alright, so I was a bit snappy – she'd interrupted me; she deserved it.

"You can't have children, and I'd always heard that sex between two boys was not only religiously immoral, it was damaging to the body of the receiving boy."

I couldn't help it – I smirked. "Receiving boy? Such a wonderful term – I'll have to share it with your Wonder Boy, whenever I see him next. I'm sure he'd love the implications. As for children and damages – well, there are potions for those sorts of things. You do remember that you are in a school for the magically gifted, don't you?" I didn't wait for an answer. "I need to get to class, Red, so I'll be off. Sit with me at lunch, would you?"

"Absolutely not!" Ron sputtered, mouth still hanging open – I don't think he closed it since I told him that the dowry was for him, and not his sister. "This is a joke, isn't it? Just another big joke – like…like Umbridge's classes. Yeah. A joke…"

I frowned. That wouldn't go over well with mother, if the family didn't take her seriously. Then again, not everyone in that family was as thick-headed as my dear Ron – the twins were proof enough of that. They should have been in Slytherin. Maybe I could get Umbridge to do something about that… she's a power-hungry mad witch, surely she wouldn't mind a bit more, if she can designate which students go where…

But I wasn't really all that concerned with Umbridge – she was enough of a witch without any of our help.

"This isn't a joke, Ronald," I told him bluntly, "and I expect you to follow through with all the proper customs and traditions – after all, it's not like you can refuse."

I set a box down on the table and slid it over to him, and then left. The box was the beginning of the engagement – offered after the negotiations for a dowry had begun. A simple chain necklace with two rings strung on – which would later become the engagement rings once the dowry had been settled. The bride, traditionally, wears them openly to display that she – or, in this case, he – is being bargained for, and so other suitors can offer up their own prices.

It would actually work in my favor if he didn't wear them – no one else would think to offer a price against ours. Of course, everyone already knew from the article in the Prophet, but the proof of it was in the rings.

I'd still prefer it if he wore them, though – that little redhead is mine, and I don't want anyone else touching him.

---------------------------break.