Disclaimers: Not mine, nope…

A/N: I love this chapter. I really do. I used to hate it, but now I love it. It's very much of a fill-in chapter, but I hope you'll like it!

To Danii: Thanks so much sweetie!

Ice Cream Talks

Diagon Alley was a nice place for walking on that June morning. There weren't too many people, the shops were all open, and above all, there were no children that ran and screamed and cried.

Narcissa Malfoy sat right outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, waiting for her ice cream to arrive, even if her doctor had advised her against ice cream and sweets in general. She didn't particularly care, because one of the few pleasures of life was ice cream.

"Waiter! I ordered an ice cream almost two minutes ago," she called out sourly. "Where is it?"

"It's almost ready, Mrs. Malfoy," answered Florean Fortescue, who wasn't the waiter at all, in a very gentle tone. He couldn't stand Narcissa, but she was one of his best customers and he also knew that she shouldn't be eating too much ice cream. He hoped the upcoming summer holidays would help to get rid of her.

"Here you are, Mrs. Malfoy, vanilla and chocolate with a green umbrella and a cherry," he said, placing a big bowl on the table.

Narcissa studied the bowl and snorted. "That's not what I ordered. I wanted hot fudge on it," she said.

Florean Fortescue sighed. She hadn't asked for hot fudge, but there was no way to point that out to her. "Yes, Ma'am," he said, and disappeared inside the shop yet again.

When he returned, Narcissa started to eat her ice cream, but also kept snorting and muttering about 'filthy Mudbloods' and 'Muggle lovers', as always. Little did she know that if you talk too much about something – or someone – you are going to encounter – or meet – that something – or someone. And for Narcissa Malfoy, that meant 'Muggle lovers' on her path.

"Arthur, dear, why don't we have some ice cream?"

"I don't know, Molly. What with all the money we spent in Madam Malkin's, I don't know if we can afford an ice cream."

Narcissa looked around at the people that were passing in front of the shop, her eyes narrowed as she tried to recognise the owners of those voices. And there they were, a couple of old wizards. He was tall and completely bald, and she was short and a bit fat, with white hair that had once been red. Narcissa Malfoy cursed the day that Knockturn Alley had been closed.

"Arthur, Molly," Florean called them. "Are you going to stop for some ice cream?"

Molly looked at Arthur with puppy eyes, and her husband couldn't help smiling. "Yes, Florean."

As soon as they stepped under the awnings of the ice-cream shop, between the little tables, they spotted almost immediately the old woman with blonde hair who managed to give herself airs just eating an ice cream.

Molly pulled Arthur's sleeve and nodded in Narcissa's direction. They exchanged looks, evidently fought between staying there and ignoring the woman, or going there and starting a conversation with their soon-to-be relative.

Naturally Molly and Arthur were too polite to ignore anyone, even Narcissa Malfoy. And after all, they had always been a little self-injuring. They walked towards Narcissa, who was good at pretending that she hadn't seen them, and sat at the table next to her.

Both Molly and Arthur glanced at her, and she glanced back at them, too, when they didn't see her.

"What can I serve you?" asked Florean after a while, approaching their table.

"Two dishes of ice-cream, with strawberries, Florean," answered Molly. "Oh, and add some whipped cream to mine," she added.

Florean took note and disappeared inside the shop. Molly took the opportunity to bend near her husband. "Should we talk to her?" she whispered into his ear.

"No, Molly. If she wanted to talk to us, she would already have started a conversation," answered Arthur wisely.

"She's the grandmother of the soon-to-be-husband of the daughter of our son," said Molly quickly. "We'll have to talk to her sooner or later. It's better if we start sooner, don't you think?"

But Arthur was too deep in thought about who Narcissa Malfoy was to them to notice that his wife had already turned towards her and began a conversation.

"Narcissa, hello?" asked Molly, with her best smile.

Narcissa looked at Molly, from her white hair to her second-hand shoes, and smiled the nastiest smile that an old woman could muster. "Yes, and you are…?"

Molly looked at her, taken aback. She was too naïve to realise that Mrs. Malfoy was simply pretending to not remember them.

"Oh, you don't remember us?" she asked, pointing at her husband and then at herself. "I understand, don't worry. Don't be embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" asked Narcissa, shocked. She was everything but embarrassed at that moment.

Molly nodded sympathetically. "You know, at our age, forgetting things and people is very frequent, you don't have to worry. I'm Molly Weasley and this is my husband, Arthur."

Narcissa's plan backfired a little as the conversation started. Molly Weasley was looking at her like a nurse at a patient. She tried to smile as she took the hand that Molly offered her and shook it. "Oh, Weasley, now I remember."

Molly smiled. "Oh, but Narcissa – I can call you Narcissa, can't I?"

Narcissa would have said no, obviously, but she didn't. On the contrary, she just nodded and curved her lips into what should have looked like a smile.

"Narcissa, you are sitting there all alone. Would you like to join my husband and I?" offered Molly.

Naturally, the first thought of Narcissa was that Molly's memory didn't work anymore, since they had never talked, except for swapping not so kind words. And now she was inviting Narcissa to her table for an ice cream!

Narcissa narrowed her eyes; maybe it was a trap. At any rate, she stood up and sat at their table.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Oh, sure, Cissy – I can call you Cissy, can't I?"

"Of course not," she mumbled.

"What?" asked Arthur, who had become a little deaf with time.

"Of course you can call me Cissy," she answered, raising her voice.

"Oh. That's so nice," answered Molly.

At that moment, Florean brought the ice creams that the Weasleys had ordered. He eyed eyed Narcissa with a bit of shock. She usually sat all alone in the most isolated table of the shop, and she usually scared the other guests with her very presence.

"Thank you very much, Florean," said Molly warmly.

"Yes, Molly," answered the shopper.

"What flavour did you order?" asked Molly caringly, much too caringly for Narcissa.

"Vanilla and chocolate," answered Narcissa, wondering what on earth she had done to attract their interest.

"Oh, that's so cute, isn't it, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded absentmindedly, then opened the Daily Prophet and began to skim over the pages.

"Arthur and I love cream and strawberry," said Molly.

The first thing that came into Narcissa's head was, 'Did I ask you that?' Instead, she said, "Uh, err, nice?"

Molly ignored her, though. "You know, you can drop by one of these evenings, and we can have a nice dinner between us. I mean, we are a family now."

Narcissa chocked on her ice cream. "A family?" she asked after some coughing. "What do you mean, a family?"

"Oh, didn't your son tell you about the baby?" asked Molly, a sparkle in her eyes at the very thought to be the first one to tell about their great-grandson.

"Baby?" Narcissa asked, astonished. She had indeed heard something about a baby, at Christmas. Pansy and Draco must have told her something, oh, but she was always so drunk at the end of Christmas day that now she didn't remember very well what that was all about. But she didn't want to give the Weasleys an advantage over her. "Yes, of course I know about the baby," she snapped.

Molly looked at her for a long moment, or maybe it was just a few seconds, but Narcissa felt the weight of her glance unbearable. She had to act as if she knew everything about that baby.

"So, what are you going to call her – him – the baby?" asked Narcissa, hastily.

"Well, I don't think they'll let us have a say in the matter. They've already snapped at their parents twice about that fact," answered Molly. "But I like the name Bill very much – that's why I used it for my first son."

Narcissa looked at Molly, trying to disguise the confused expression on her face with a haughty one. So, it wasn't the Weasleys that were having a baby, no, indeed. Now that she looked more closely at the couple in front of her, she didn't know how she could have thought something like that. They were much too old for a baby. But they did have many children after all, it wasn't so preposterous to think they could have expected another one. But then, why would they say that they were going to become relatives? Damn Firewhiskey. She couldn't remember what her son had said about that baby.

"What name do you like?" asked Molly, popping a big spoonful of ice cream into in her mouth.

"I like Draco," answered Narcissa.

Molly laughed. "Obviously," she said sweetly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have called your son Draco."

Narcissa thought with contempt that Mrs. Weasley was very intelligent for being so poor.

"Well, they are going to name him after my younger son, as a second name of course. I don't think they have a first name for the baby, though," added Molly.

'Who are these they?' thought Narcissa. "What about Draco?"

Molly laughed again, and Narcissa glared at her. She had never seen someone laugh so much. "They don't want to call him Draco, because he'll already have that surname. So they want to make a certain equilibrium between the grandparents."

"Grandparents?" asked Narcissa. That ice cream was really starting to go down the wrong way.

"Of course, they are all so happy," said Molly, clapping her hands in excitement. "Aren't you?"

After all she had heard, she wasn't. "Sure," she muttered.

"I can't wait for the baby to be born. And today is already – what's the date today, Arthur dear?"

Arthur looked at the small date at the top of the Daily Prophet page – he had to get even closer to the page because his sight was going back – and said, "The eleventh of June, Molly."

"Oh, that's fantastic. We are so close already," she said. "What term is she now?" she asked to Narcissa.

Narcissa looked at her with wide eyes. Why hadn't she stayed at home, tormenting the house-elves as she always did? "I can't remember," she said, pretending to think.

"Oh, yes, they talked about something like the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth, right, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded from behind the Prophet.

"You are going to come for the birth, right?"

Narcissa shrugged. "They hadn't invited me."

"There's no need for an invitation," said Molly, laughing. "What did you buy for the baby? We bought some delightful little dresses at Madam Malkin's this morning." Without waiting for even a nod from Narcissa, Molly spread on the table the contents of the shopping bags that lay at their feet, showing and meticulously describing every little cloth and shoe that they had bought.

Even when Narcissa's grandson was born, she hadn't done anything like that with the Parkinsons.

"And what did you buy?" Molly asked again, snapping Narcissa out of her thoughts, which were far away from the little dresses.

"I didn't buy anything, yet," she said, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, well, I understand if don't have enough money to buy something," said Molly sympathetically. "We can always lend you something and tell everybody that you bought it."

Narcissa looked at her, like a cat ready to jump on a mouse. "Excuse me?" she asked haughtily. "What do you mean I don't have enough money? I've plenty of money."

Molly shrugged. "You know, people say that after your son married that Parkinson girl, you gave them the house and almost all of the money and after your husband died-"

"Weasley!"

Arthur put down the Prophet, because that 'Weasley' was said with enough force to be heard by him, too. "I have enough money to buy all of Diagon Alley, if I want." She stood up and leaned on the cane that her husband had left her. "I'm going to buy a little palace for that baby."

She made her way through the tables. 'If I only knew who this baby is,' she thought.

When she had left the voices of the Weasleys behind, she felt much better. Until she heard Molly Weasley laughing behind her. "Mrs. Malfoy, you haven't paid the bill. Don't worry, we can pay for you."

And her thoughts came quickly upon a Weasley-cide.