Archaic

- very old or old-fashioned

The world had frozen over, Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy had become friends, and Ginny was being punished for it.

At least according to the seventeen-year-old herself, who had come of age in the late summer but had yet to be treated like an autonomous being by her own family. Molly, who had apparently been fond of younger Narcissa when they traveled in the same pureblooded circles before she eloped with Arthur, had sent her youngest child over as a tangible olive branch for Narcissa and her society schemes.

Similarly, Narcissa's begrudging respect and quiet gratitude towards Molly did not extend to her daughter, and so Ginny was being prodded and poked and insulted to her face during this so-called dress fitting.

"Whoever let girls play Quidditch was clearly not planning on them ever getting married," Narcissa snapped as she flicked her wand, and the measuring tape fell from Ginny's shoulders.

"Hey!" Ginny cried indignantly from her spot on the wooden podium. In addition to the unending stream of negative commentary on her body, light was streaming into Narcissa's studio and straight into the irate teenage girl's eyes.

"Hay is for horses, and your dimensions are for dragon tamers." Narcissa muttered, peering at her notes.

Ginny blinked furiously against the light and set her hands on her hips. "I'll take that as a compliment. My brother Charlie is a dragon tamer, and he is one of the bravest, strongest-"

"Burly boy, isn't he? Rather stout and rotund, if I recall correctly?" Narcissa interrupted, rolling her eyes.

Ginny flushed and opened her mouth to respond, but Narcissa had other priorities. The willowy blond woman clapped her hands together, and Ginny's clothes immediately disappeared off her body, leaving her only in her bra and knickers.

"Ah." Narcissa peered over the silver frames resting delicately on her small nose. "Interesting."

Arms flailing everywhere as she tried to decide what, exactly, needed to be covered, Ginny spluttered something out, "Consent - excuse me - what-"

"Do shut your mouth, Ginevra. Rule number one of cotillion, a girl becoming a lady knows when she is to speak, and when she is supposed to be silent."

"Thankfully, I have a mind of my own, so I will not be attending your circus." Ginny's outrage was a bit undercut by her arms awkwardly wrapping around her breasts and shielding her cotton panties from view.

"Cotillion, Miss Weasley," Narcissa corrected her sharply, with icy blue eyes glaring at the fuming teenager in front of her. "Any witch or wizard of age who's worth a Sickle will be there, and, thanks to the good sense of your mother, so will you."

Ginny hmph'd while Narcissa raised her wand in a circular motion. Immediately, Ginny's podium began to turn, putting her on full display for the older witch's scrutiny.

"Well, you'll be going to cotillion if we can manage to make a dress that will hide that prodigious backside of yours, that is." Narcissa sighed from behind her.

Before Ginny could let out the banshee-like shriek that she'd been holding back for the last quarter of an hour, a lower, distinctly male voice laughed from near Narcissa. Ginny wheeled around on the podium, making herself almost dizzy in the process to see Draco Malfoy, six foot something, soft platinum hair falling in his steel eyes, dressed more casually than she'd ever seen him, standing next to his mother. Hi signature smirk was resting on his face, and Ginny gawked at Malfoy, whom she hadn't actually seen since the final battle in May, for a full minute before squeaking and wrapping her arms around herself once more.

For once, she and Narcissa were on the same side. The elegant witch pinched the bridge of her nose before rounding on her son. "What are you doing here? This is private, and you're supposed to be at the Ministry!"

"Got off early," Malfoy shrugged, his eyes still amused and trained on an uncharacteristically silent Ginny.

"Besides," he continued, his teeth gleaming. "I overhead and had to correct you; I think your notions of beauty are a bit outdated, mum. Weasley's backside," and here he made a show of looking around and checking Ginny's arse out before winking at her, "is going to kill at cotillion."

Ginny's mouth dropped open, and a moment of pin-drop silence followed before-

"Get out before I have the Dementors lock you in your father's cell."

"How about I just kill you, Malfoy?"

"Get out!" The witches screamed in unison at Draco, who simply winked and walked out.