The Drunk, His Friend For The Day, His Fiancee, And His Sister.
Dreary lighting and musty air was a trademark of Knockturn Alley, once you got past the creepy sales persons. Most people wouldn't look at the Alley and expect anything other than Dark Wizards and drunks.
These people were very bright indeed.
Oh, it was true that Knockturn Alley had some decent business, but the decent craftsmen were overshadowed or converted by the cunning Death Eater or Hag, whichever the craftsman in questioned preferred.
But this story hasn't anything to do with the old, hunched over man selling Bibles next to a shop called "Devil's R Us." No, this story has to do with one of those drunks that the very bright people knew without looking was there.
The Sleezy Hag was a rather well known bar, at least to those who frequented Knockturn Alley. Despite the name, not many Hags chose to spend their time around the bar. As a matter of fact, they even made a petition up to change the name, which the Ministry granted. So, the official name, the one that showed up on the taxes that is, is the The Sleezy Slut.
No, it wasn't much better.
But, no one came to The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever tickles your fancy) for the name. No, they all came for the sign.
The sign in front of The Sleezy Hag (or Slut) featured the words "The Sleezy Slut (formerly known as 'The Sleezy Hag' until those hags protested. No, we will not be serving you, so ha!)." But the emblazoned, glowing green letters didn't attract all that many people either. They all came to see who could pull the neon pink wig off the 'T' in the.
Many a tale speak of how the wig came to be where it is. Some range from the logical (one of the protesting hags was caught and her hair confiscated as a trophy) to the completely unbelievable (the owner just put it there). Either way, the wig is there, and no one has yet come to the idea of magicking the stupid thing down.
But again, this story is not about the sign. This story is about a rather stupid, lost drunken bachelor, his friend for the day, his fiancée, and the woman he calls sister. Yes, it sounds terribly dramatic.
Now, the inside of The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever rocks your boat) is exactly what one might expect. There are a good number of still usable tables, those having at least two legs, and the floor is slightly sticky, but not overly so (unless you venture near the bathroom). On the bar, which is rather long and made of wood, as most bars are, was a cardboard sign. The sign proudly proclaimed "I found your butterfly hair clip. It is pink. I want money for it, or you will never see it again."
Oh yes, and the butterfly clip was pinned right next to the poster.
But this story isn't about the clip either. No no, it's about the drunk.
Now, this drunk was finding solace in the bottom of the bottle, as was usual. And why not? What else does an alcoholic do in a bar called The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever side your bread is buttered on)? The man had dark red hair, and a lot of freckles. He was holding, very tightly, a bottle of Tequila, and was talking loudly to his friend for the day.
Now, as everyone knows, only one of the Weasley clan could have hair so red and freckles to clash. And who doesn't know Ronald Weasley, star Chaser for the Chudley Cannons?
As for the friend of the day. His friend was one that many people in Knockturn Alley were familiar with. Why, many a vampire had seen him playing with poisoned knives as a tike. Or busying himself with stealing blood pops from the older kids. Even after all the twenty- three years of his life, Draco Malfoy still had that same tendencies (and amazingly blonde hair to boot).
"I thought Dumbledore had purple underwear, not orange," Ron said loudly.
"Naw... we Slyths believe that he went commando. He's always givin' McGonagall the eye," Draco replied, downing a shot of some murky liquid.
"But- but- but- yeah, that's right," Ron agreed, after many tries. He dropped the bottle, and pleasantly found himself only slightly intoxicated for all the liquor he had consumed.
"You know, Pans wants a box of Kleenex," Ron stated, while attempting to pull the rather large pink elephant from his bottle.
"Clown-hex? Powerful stuff man. You sure your pans can handle that kinda weight?" Draco asked, doing a brilliant job of plucking lint from his pockets.
"Yeah yeah, pans are heavy these days," Ron said, smiling happily for the elephant had just run off in fear.
"I gotta go soon. Gin wants a box of Kleenex," Draco muttered, stumbling as he attempted standing. And failed.
"Yeah, that damn Malfoy is- is- is- her partner, is he not?" Ron questioned, still glowing from his battle with the elephant.
"Naw, she is MY partner," Draco said from his vantage point of the ground. Ron finally stopped playing with his Tequila bottle to look at his friend for the day.
"Woah... did you know you're Malfoy?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Naw man, I'm Draco," he replied, grabbing the chair and hauling himself up.
"Okay then," Ron said, returning his attention to the bottle. As soon as Draco regained his balance, he flopped back into his chair.
"She can get her own clowns."
"Clowns are funny."
"Not really."
"Yeah, I guess your right."
The two sat in silence for a long time while they contemplated their big words.
"I'm gonna ask Pansy to marry me," Ron stated, a small smile flickering over his face.
"Eh? Pansy Parkinson? Isn't she dating the Weasel? Are you Weasley?"
"Yeah."
"Good luck. Hope you got the ring."
"Of course I won't sing!"
"Thanks."
"No problem."
Another not to ackward and overall welcomed silence.
"Holy shit! You're going to ask Pansy to marry you?" Draco hollered, as soon as the impact of what Ron had said had hit him. Ron nodded happily. "Are you sure about this?"
"I've been meaning to for a long time. We've only been dating for six years, you think that's enough time?" Ron asked, worry evident on his face.
"Sure. Already have the ring?"
"Yeah. Lemme show you," Ron said, pulling out the cliché black velvet box. He yanked the box open and handed the box to Draco, smiling all the while.
"Wow. That's one hell of a rock. Musta cost you. Set in platinum... she'll love it," Draco said in awe.
The ring was truly awe-inspiring. The rock itself was a dime sized diamond, with a tiny emerald in the center. The platinum band was shining brightly, even though the lighting was altogether dreary. There was an inscription on the inside, but Draco didn't know this. After all, he wasn't trusting fate to let him hold the ring and not break it. The inscription lovingly read "To the Slytherin Goddess who decided one day out of the blue to handcuff me to the girls toilet and accidentally handcuffed herself too."
But that, my not so close friend, is another story.
A loud creak from above was the last thing either man heard before everything went black.
~~~~
Ron was quite accustomed to waking up with a splitting headache. It came with being an alcoholic. But this was ridiculous.
His head felt like someone had dropped a beam on it.
Which is exactly what happened.
A loose ceiling beam in The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever rings your bell) had given way suddenly, and crashed down upon both Ron and Draco. But Ron wasn't in the bar anymore. He was in a hospital room, white sheets, white curtains, the whole shebang.
And flopped over the right side of the bed, half sitting in a chair, half sleeping on the bed, was Pansy Parkinson.
No matter what anyone said, Ron loved the girl. He loved her mousy hair and plain looks. He loved her dark past and bright future. He loved her quirky personality and, in her own way, her loyalty.
Of course, she did have a rather large temper.
But at the moment she was sleeping, snoring slightly, and he was laying in a hospital bed with a bandage over his head. It vaguely made him feel like a swami, but that wasn't what he wanted.
He wanted the damn box of Kleenex on the bedside, that he couldn't reach because Pansy was in the way.
He wanted the box so he could say that he had fulfilled his errand and bought Pansy her damnable box of Kleenex that he had gone out for five hours ago. So, he stupidly decided to try to reach it.
As he leaned over, he wasn't aware that Pansy was slowly slipping from the bedside before she toppled off with a off. Hurriedly, Ron grabbed the box and held it out to the enraged Pansy.
"Why couldn't you have just shaken- oh, thanks for the Kleenex, but I bought them about an hour after you left. And you still don't have the right to shove me off the bed!" she said, changing her tone from anger to normal, to enraged.
"I didn't mean to! And that's never stopped you before!"
"That was because you were drooling on me!"
"Yeah, but- but- fine!" he said. The two crossed their arms and turned away from one and other. The door opened, a nurse came in wearing, surprise surprise, white.
"How are you feeling Mr. Weasley?" she said pleasantly.
"Pretty good," he said, smiling at her. She blushed and went to take his pulse, oblivious to the way Pansy flustered.
"That goal you made in the game against Bolivia, wonderful! I couldn't imagine how you made that shot! The Keeper seemed as surprised as I was," she gushed, still not noticing Pansy.
"Yeah, it was a really hard shot. I surprised myself as a matter of fact," he replied, not minding the attention or jealousy it was causing.
"You're kidding! You seemed to know exactly what you were doing! Oh, Miss, this is family only," the nurse said, finally acknowledging Pansy.
"Believe me, I'm perfectly happy to go. Oh, and Ron? I'll leave a note with the doctor that you're free to go back to the Burrow anytime. And tell Ginny she owes me her crystal ball," Pansy said evenly, before quietly walking out of the room.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, you seem perfectly normal. You can leave any time you want to. Your friend, Mr. Malfoy, he left a few hours ago."
"Wait a minute, how long have I been out?" Ron asked suddenly.
"About six hours, it's around two right now. In the morning that is. It was really nice of your friend to stay that long. She got here soon after you did," the nurse said.
"So Draco left?"
"Yes. I hope his fiancée likes that ring he has."
"What?! He has a ring?"
"Why of course! We found it is his hand, so the nurse slipped it into his cloak before he left. Why are you so surprised?" she asked curiously.
"That was my ring!" he yelled.
"Oh my. Well I suppose that woman was your fiancee too?" the nurse questioned, a look of horror dawning on her face.
"Yeah."
"Well, why are you still sitting there?"
~~~
Draco stormed down the hall of his apartment complex. To the ametuer Draco-watcher, this action showed anger and impatience. Actually, Draco was trying to wake up all of his neighbors so he could see their faces and reactions to having been woken up at four in the morning.
And, sure enough, four doors flew open in front of him.
Out of the first room came Rita Skeeter. Rita had been living in "The Bewitching View" apartment buildings for as long as anyone could remember. The buildings had a perfect location for the working Ministry official. Just down the road was the head office, and Diagon Alley just a hop skip and a jump away.
But, Rita's life in the gossip columns was over. No, she now covered diplomatic issues.
No one was sure why she changed from gossip queen, to investigative bitch.
Then again, no one really cared.
From out of the second room came Madam Pomfrey. After twenty years in service at Hogwarts, Madam had finally retired, and had taken up a part time job at St. Mungos. She was still stern as ever, tossing out horrible potions at every hint of an illness.
But Draco barely knew Madam, so he didn't really pay attention to her much.
Out of the third door came Viktor Krum. Yes yes, Viktor should be living in his native Bulgaria, but Dark magic had closed the borders, and Mr. Krum was told to get a nice apartment and hole up for a while.
No one told him he'd be in England for three years.
Out of the fourth room came the shock which made Draco Malfoy stop dead in his tracks.
Not one, but two people came out of the fourth room, two people Draco knew very well, but wished he didn't.
Now, Neville had moved into the complex not long after Draco himself had. Both had just graduated and needed homes, and both had enough money to afford the rather high rent. But Neville and Draco never spoke, Neville only squeaked and ran when Draco came by. But Neville wasn't one of the heads poking out of the doorway. Neville had sub-rented his apartment to Harry Potter only a few months earlier.
And gosh golly gee darnit, wasn't that Ginny Weasley in a big T-shirt?
And didn't she looked shocked, and, well a little ashamed too?
"Draco! No wait, this isn't what it looks like!" she began, coming out of the doorway and taking the amazed Malfoy by his shoulders. A running sound alerted Draco that Rita was running to grab her pen and paper. Maybe the gossip column hadn't let go of her yet?
"What do you mean, 'not what it looks like'? It looks like you're in Potter's shirt! And if I'm not mistaken, had a bit of fun earlier," he sneered, his eyes narrowed at her.
"Now that isn't fair! God, I don't even know what happened! I just went out for a few drinks with Harry, and the next thing I know..." she trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.
"Oh, please continue, I love having these conversations with you. So, was he good?"
"Malfoy, leave her alone! It's none of your business what happened tonight!" Harry yelled. Seven more doors popped open.
"Harry, stay out of this," Ginny hollered, turning her head slightly so that she could glare at him. She whirled her sight back to Draco, her eyes pleading with him.
"No no, let's hear what Wonder Boy has to say about this. So Potter, what did you think of her? Any good?" Draco snapped, not really caring that the entire floor was in their door ways and Rita happily copying down the conversation.
"Damnit Draco, this has absolutely NOTHING to do with you! For gods sake, you never have and never will have any sort of relationship with Ginny, and you damn well know it! Have you forgotten she's a Weasley, and that the two of you can't stand each other?"
"Go to hell Harry!" Ginny yelled, releasing Draco's shoulders and glaring horribly at Harry. Draco, not having eye contact with Ginny, glanced around the hallway.
"And what are you people looking at?" he snarled. Twelve doors quickly slammed shut. Harry came out of his room (wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, which did nothing to calm Draco's temper) and took Ginny by the shoulders.
"Look Gin, I don't mean to embarrass you, but honestly! You told me yourself that you couldn't have cared one way or another about Draco," he said softly. Ginny looked at Harry, shaking, and tore herself away from him.
"Just go away Harry. I need to talk to Draco," she whispered. Harry slowly looked between the two, before backing up into his room, and quietly closing the door behind himself.
"Draco..." Ginny began, turning to face him. But he was to angry to care. He pushed past her and continued down the hall to his apartment. "Draco, stop!" she yelled, grabbing his arm and yanking him back. He spun around, enraged, his cloak billowing around him. A black velvet box flew from the pocket. Ginny slowly bent and picked up the box. Draco's eyes widened as she opened the box, and Ron's ring lay inside.
"I guess she said no?" she breathed, rising with the box, handing it back to Draco.
"No, Ginny, it's not-"
"It's okay Draco. Harry was right, there never was anything between us," she said, voice barely audible. Draco took the ring from Ginny, but cast it back to the ground. He instead grabbed her hands and pulled her into a quick embrace.
"The ring belongs to Ron," he whispered. Just as quickly as he pulled her into the embrace did he release her. "Give it back to him for me, will you?" Without waiting for an answer, Draco swiftly walked down the hall to his apartment, threw the door open, and shut it quietly behind him.
Ginny picked up the box again, and couldn't help but smile slightly, before the tears began falling.
~~
Ron was currently running down the road, trying to ignore the weird looks he was getting. He had three goals in mind.
Goal number one: find Draco and beat the crap out of him, and get his ring back.
Goal number two: grovel at Pansy's feet for forgiveness.
Goal number three : attempt to get a refund on the ring after Pansy dumps him.
No, Ron wasn't having a good day. But that didn't stop him from running around downtown London at three fifty-five in the morning. As he ran up the stairs, Ron wondered just how Harry was doing. He knew Draco and Harry were staying on the same floor, maybe Harry knew which room was Draco's. That would save Ron from waking up the whole floor looking for the ring- stealing, get- you- drunk- then- drop- a- beam- on- your- head- Malfoy.
Ron ran out of the stairwell, but didn't continue running down the hall. Not when his sister was crying in the middle of it.
"Ginny?" he asked quietly. She peeked throw the gap in her arms at him, before throwing her arms around his shoulders.
"Ron! I've just made the biggest mistake of my life!" she sobbed into his chest. "And Draco told me to give you back your ring."
"Uh, thanks," he said, taking the ring and slipping it into his pocket. "But what's wrong, Gin?"
"I just made a really big mistake. Can we just go home?" she asked quietly.
"Sure. I'll hail the Knight Bus, okay?"
"Thanks Ron."
~~~
Pansy was still throwing her clothes into bags when Ron and Ginny walked into Ron's flat.
"What's going on?" Ginny asked.
"Oh, nothing much, Gin. Ron just seems to be happy with his little nurse. And you owe me your crystal ball by the way," Pansy said darkly, not looking up from her task.
"Honestly Pansy! I was angry! It didn't mean anything! I was just playing around."
No, Ron did not know how to handle ex-Death Eaters who happened to be his girlfriend.
Well, soon to be ex- girlfriend.
"Just playing around?! How dare you! Have you any idea what I gave up for you? Huh? Do you know what it's like to see your parents killed because you fell for some guy? Do you know what it's like to have assassins on your trail, every step of every day of your life? Well? Oh yeah, that's right, I never told you about the threats I got, about the harassment I suffered, about the looks and shame, and how I lost almost all of my friends... And you were just playing around with some nurse? I thought I meant something to you. I seriously thought that you understood that I've given up my life for you," she screamed, brandishing a hair brush at him.
"I... why didn't you tell me?" he questioned, pulling her into his arms.
"I didn't want you to think I was a little weakling," she whispered, leaning against him.
"I'm so sorry," he breathed into her hair.
Ginny couldn't help but smile. No matter how many fights the two had been through, no matter how many times Pansy moved out, no matter how many times Ron was sleeping on the couch, they always pulled through it, ever since sixth year. Ginny couldn't imagine having something like that with any man, well, any man she had a slight chance with. Draco was off limits to her.
For one, he hated her.
For another, Parvati had her hooks in him.
For the third, and final reason, she had just slept with Harry.
No, life wasn't looking up for her at the moment.
Ron and Pansy ended their embrace, each a bit red in the face at Ginny's presence. But, Pansy didn't forgive and forget that quickly. She pulled her hand back and slapped Ron across the face.
"And don't you dare do that again!" With that, she stormed out of the living room and slammed the door to her room shut.
Even though Ron and Pansy had lived together for the better part of their five years out of Hogwarts, they each had separate rooms that they could decorate to their liking. Whichever room they slept in was usually determined at the last minute.
But it was very apparent that Ron was sleeping in his own bed tonight.
"Well," Ron said slowly, turning to face Ginny. "I should have known she wouldn't have forgiven me that quickly. Anyway, you can sleep on the couch. I would volunteer my room, but I have to be at work in two hours, and I don't want to wake you up when I shower and change. Oh here," he said, pulling out some money from his pocket.
"Here is three Galleons, seven Sickles and thirteen Knuts, my change from the Knight Bus. I'll just grab you some blankets and a pillow," Ron said, handing the money to Ginny, who looked curiously at it, not knowing where to put it.
Remember, the youngest Weasley is still clad only in Harry's T-shirt.
Ron pulled Pansy's bags off the couch and placed them on the ground, throwing a couple of blankets and a pillow from the linen closet in their place.
"Hey Gin, you are going to tell me what happened later, okay? And about this whole crystal ball thing," he said, hugging his sister before retreating to his room. Ginny dumped the money on the coffee table before flopping into the makeshift bed, slowly drifting into a sleep haunted by shots of liquor, Harry, and the marriage of Draco and Parvati.
Dreary lighting and musty air was a trademark of Knockturn Alley, once you got past the creepy sales persons. Most people wouldn't look at the Alley and expect anything other than Dark Wizards and drunks.
These people were very bright indeed.
Oh, it was true that Knockturn Alley had some decent business, but the decent craftsmen were overshadowed or converted by the cunning Death Eater or Hag, whichever the craftsman in questioned preferred.
But this story hasn't anything to do with the old, hunched over man selling Bibles next to a shop called "Devil's R Us." No, this story has to do with one of those drunks that the very bright people knew without looking was there.
The Sleezy Hag was a rather well known bar, at least to those who frequented Knockturn Alley. Despite the name, not many Hags chose to spend their time around the bar. As a matter of fact, they even made a petition up to change the name, which the Ministry granted. So, the official name, the one that showed up on the taxes that is, is the The Sleezy Slut.
No, it wasn't much better.
But, no one came to The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever tickles your fancy) for the name. No, they all came for the sign.
The sign in front of The Sleezy Hag (or Slut) featured the words "The Sleezy Slut (formerly known as 'The Sleezy Hag' until those hags protested. No, we will not be serving you, so ha!)." But the emblazoned, glowing green letters didn't attract all that many people either. They all came to see who could pull the neon pink wig off the 'T' in the.
Many a tale speak of how the wig came to be where it is. Some range from the logical (one of the protesting hags was caught and her hair confiscated as a trophy) to the completely unbelievable (the owner just put it there). Either way, the wig is there, and no one has yet come to the idea of magicking the stupid thing down.
But again, this story is not about the sign. This story is about a rather stupid, lost drunken bachelor, his friend for the day, his fiancée, and the woman he calls sister. Yes, it sounds terribly dramatic.
Now, the inside of The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever rocks your boat) is exactly what one might expect. There are a good number of still usable tables, those having at least two legs, and the floor is slightly sticky, but not overly so (unless you venture near the bathroom). On the bar, which is rather long and made of wood, as most bars are, was a cardboard sign. The sign proudly proclaimed "I found your butterfly hair clip. It is pink. I want money for it, or you will never see it again."
Oh yes, and the butterfly clip was pinned right next to the poster.
But this story isn't about the clip either. No no, it's about the drunk.
Now, this drunk was finding solace in the bottom of the bottle, as was usual. And why not? What else does an alcoholic do in a bar called The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever side your bread is buttered on)? The man had dark red hair, and a lot of freckles. He was holding, very tightly, a bottle of Tequila, and was talking loudly to his friend for the day.
Now, as everyone knows, only one of the Weasley clan could have hair so red and freckles to clash. And who doesn't know Ronald Weasley, star Chaser for the Chudley Cannons?
As for the friend of the day. His friend was one that many people in Knockturn Alley were familiar with. Why, many a vampire had seen him playing with poisoned knives as a tike. Or busying himself with stealing blood pops from the older kids. Even after all the twenty- three years of his life, Draco Malfoy still had that same tendencies (and amazingly blonde hair to boot).
"I thought Dumbledore had purple underwear, not orange," Ron said loudly.
"Naw... we Slyths believe that he went commando. He's always givin' McGonagall the eye," Draco replied, downing a shot of some murky liquid.
"But- but- but- yeah, that's right," Ron agreed, after many tries. He dropped the bottle, and pleasantly found himself only slightly intoxicated for all the liquor he had consumed.
"You know, Pans wants a box of Kleenex," Ron stated, while attempting to pull the rather large pink elephant from his bottle.
"Clown-hex? Powerful stuff man. You sure your pans can handle that kinda weight?" Draco asked, doing a brilliant job of plucking lint from his pockets.
"Yeah yeah, pans are heavy these days," Ron said, smiling happily for the elephant had just run off in fear.
"I gotta go soon. Gin wants a box of Kleenex," Draco muttered, stumbling as he attempted standing. And failed.
"Yeah, that damn Malfoy is- is- is- her partner, is he not?" Ron questioned, still glowing from his battle with the elephant.
"Naw, she is MY partner," Draco said from his vantage point of the ground. Ron finally stopped playing with his Tequila bottle to look at his friend for the day.
"Woah... did you know you're Malfoy?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Naw man, I'm Draco," he replied, grabbing the chair and hauling himself up.
"Okay then," Ron said, returning his attention to the bottle. As soon as Draco regained his balance, he flopped back into his chair.
"She can get her own clowns."
"Clowns are funny."
"Not really."
"Yeah, I guess your right."
The two sat in silence for a long time while they contemplated their big words.
"I'm gonna ask Pansy to marry me," Ron stated, a small smile flickering over his face.
"Eh? Pansy Parkinson? Isn't she dating the Weasel? Are you Weasley?"
"Yeah."
"Good luck. Hope you got the ring."
"Of course I won't sing!"
"Thanks."
"No problem."
Another not to ackward and overall welcomed silence.
"Holy shit! You're going to ask Pansy to marry you?" Draco hollered, as soon as the impact of what Ron had said had hit him. Ron nodded happily. "Are you sure about this?"
"I've been meaning to for a long time. We've only been dating for six years, you think that's enough time?" Ron asked, worry evident on his face.
"Sure. Already have the ring?"
"Yeah. Lemme show you," Ron said, pulling out the cliché black velvet box. He yanked the box open and handed the box to Draco, smiling all the while.
"Wow. That's one hell of a rock. Musta cost you. Set in platinum... she'll love it," Draco said in awe.
The ring was truly awe-inspiring. The rock itself was a dime sized diamond, with a tiny emerald in the center. The platinum band was shining brightly, even though the lighting was altogether dreary. There was an inscription on the inside, but Draco didn't know this. After all, he wasn't trusting fate to let him hold the ring and not break it. The inscription lovingly read "To the Slytherin Goddess who decided one day out of the blue to handcuff me to the girls toilet and accidentally handcuffed herself too."
But that, my not so close friend, is another story.
A loud creak from above was the last thing either man heard before everything went black.
~~~~
Ron was quite accustomed to waking up with a splitting headache. It came with being an alcoholic. But this was ridiculous.
His head felt like someone had dropped a beam on it.
Which is exactly what happened.
A loose ceiling beam in The Sleezy Hag (or Slut, whichever rings your bell) had given way suddenly, and crashed down upon both Ron and Draco. But Ron wasn't in the bar anymore. He was in a hospital room, white sheets, white curtains, the whole shebang.
And flopped over the right side of the bed, half sitting in a chair, half sleeping on the bed, was Pansy Parkinson.
No matter what anyone said, Ron loved the girl. He loved her mousy hair and plain looks. He loved her dark past and bright future. He loved her quirky personality and, in her own way, her loyalty.
Of course, she did have a rather large temper.
But at the moment she was sleeping, snoring slightly, and he was laying in a hospital bed with a bandage over his head. It vaguely made him feel like a swami, but that wasn't what he wanted.
He wanted the damn box of Kleenex on the bedside, that he couldn't reach because Pansy was in the way.
He wanted the box so he could say that he had fulfilled his errand and bought Pansy her damnable box of Kleenex that he had gone out for five hours ago. So, he stupidly decided to try to reach it.
As he leaned over, he wasn't aware that Pansy was slowly slipping from the bedside before she toppled off with a off. Hurriedly, Ron grabbed the box and held it out to the enraged Pansy.
"Why couldn't you have just shaken- oh, thanks for the Kleenex, but I bought them about an hour after you left. And you still don't have the right to shove me off the bed!" she said, changing her tone from anger to normal, to enraged.
"I didn't mean to! And that's never stopped you before!"
"That was because you were drooling on me!"
"Yeah, but- but- fine!" he said. The two crossed their arms and turned away from one and other. The door opened, a nurse came in wearing, surprise surprise, white.
"How are you feeling Mr. Weasley?" she said pleasantly.
"Pretty good," he said, smiling at her. She blushed and went to take his pulse, oblivious to the way Pansy flustered.
"That goal you made in the game against Bolivia, wonderful! I couldn't imagine how you made that shot! The Keeper seemed as surprised as I was," she gushed, still not noticing Pansy.
"Yeah, it was a really hard shot. I surprised myself as a matter of fact," he replied, not minding the attention or jealousy it was causing.
"You're kidding! You seemed to know exactly what you were doing! Oh, Miss, this is family only," the nurse said, finally acknowledging Pansy.
"Believe me, I'm perfectly happy to go. Oh, and Ron? I'll leave a note with the doctor that you're free to go back to the Burrow anytime. And tell Ginny she owes me her crystal ball," Pansy said evenly, before quietly walking out of the room.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, you seem perfectly normal. You can leave any time you want to. Your friend, Mr. Malfoy, he left a few hours ago."
"Wait a minute, how long have I been out?" Ron asked suddenly.
"About six hours, it's around two right now. In the morning that is. It was really nice of your friend to stay that long. She got here soon after you did," the nurse said.
"So Draco left?"
"Yes. I hope his fiancée likes that ring he has."
"What?! He has a ring?"
"Why of course! We found it is his hand, so the nurse slipped it into his cloak before he left. Why are you so surprised?" she asked curiously.
"That was my ring!" he yelled.
"Oh my. Well I suppose that woman was your fiancee too?" the nurse questioned, a look of horror dawning on her face.
"Yeah."
"Well, why are you still sitting there?"
~~~
Draco stormed down the hall of his apartment complex. To the ametuer Draco-watcher, this action showed anger and impatience. Actually, Draco was trying to wake up all of his neighbors so he could see their faces and reactions to having been woken up at four in the morning.
And, sure enough, four doors flew open in front of him.
Out of the first room came Rita Skeeter. Rita had been living in "The Bewitching View" apartment buildings for as long as anyone could remember. The buildings had a perfect location for the working Ministry official. Just down the road was the head office, and Diagon Alley just a hop skip and a jump away.
But, Rita's life in the gossip columns was over. No, she now covered diplomatic issues.
No one was sure why she changed from gossip queen, to investigative bitch.
Then again, no one really cared.
From out of the second room came Madam Pomfrey. After twenty years in service at Hogwarts, Madam had finally retired, and had taken up a part time job at St. Mungos. She was still stern as ever, tossing out horrible potions at every hint of an illness.
But Draco barely knew Madam, so he didn't really pay attention to her much.
Out of the third door came Viktor Krum. Yes yes, Viktor should be living in his native Bulgaria, but Dark magic had closed the borders, and Mr. Krum was told to get a nice apartment and hole up for a while.
No one told him he'd be in England for three years.
Out of the fourth room came the shock which made Draco Malfoy stop dead in his tracks.
Not one, but two people came out of the fourth room, two people Draco knew very well, but wished he didn't.
Now, Neville had moved into the complex not long after Draco himself had. Both had just graduated and needed homes, and both had enough money to afford the rather high rent. But Neville and Draco never spoke, Neville only squeaked and ran when Draco came by. But Neville wasn't one of the heads poking out of the doorway. Neville had sub-rented his apartment to Harry Potter only a few months earlier.
And gosh golly gee darnit, wasn't that Ginny Weasley in a big T-shirt?
And didn't she looked shocked, and, well a little ashamed too?
"Draco! No wait, this isn't what it looks like!" she began, coming out of the doorway and taking the amazed Malfoy by his shoulders. A running sound alerted Draco that Rita was running to grab her pen and paper. Maybe the gossip column hadn't let go of her yet?
"What do you mean, 'not what it looks like'? It looks like you're in Potter's shirt! And if I'm not mistaken, had a bit of fun earlier," he sneered, his eyes narrowed at her.
"Now that isn't fair! God, I don't even know what happened! I just went out for a few drinks with Harry, and the next thing I know..." she trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.
"Oh, please continue, I love having these conversations with you. So, was he good?"
"Malfoy, leave her alone! It's none of your business what happened tonight!" Harry yelled. Seven more doors popped open.
"Harry, stay out of this," Ginny hollered, turning her head slightly so that she could glare at him. She whirled her sight back to Draco, her eyes pleading with him.
"No no, let's hear what Wonder Boy has to say about this. So Potter, what did you think of her? Any good?" Draco snapped, not really caring that the entire floor was in their door ways and Rita happily copying down the conversation.
"Damnit Draco, this has absolutely NOTHING to do with you! For gods sake, you never have and never will have any sort of relationship with Ginny, and you damn well know it! Have you forgotten she's a Weasley, and that the two of you can't stand each other?"
"Go to hell Harry!" Ginny yelled, releasing Draco's shoulders and glaring horribly at Harry. Draco, not having eye contact with Ginny, glanced around the hallway.
"And what are you people looking at?" he snarled. Twelve doors quickly slammed shut. Harry came out of his room (wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, which did nothing to calm Draco's temper) and took Ginny by the shoulders.
"Look Gin, I don't mean to embarrass you, but honestly! You told me yourself that you couldn't have cared one way or another about Draco," he said softly. Ginny looked at Harry, shaking, and tore herself away from him.
"Just go away Harry. I need to talk to Draco," she whispered. Harry slowly looked between the two, before backing up into his room, and quietly closing the door behind himself.
"Draco..." Ginny began, turning to face him. But he was to angry to care. He pushed past her and continued down the hall to his apartment. "Draco, stop!" she yelled, grabbing his arm and yanking him back. He spun around, enraged, his cloak billowing around him. A black velvet box flew from the pocket. Ginny slowly bent and picked up the box. Draco's eyes widened as she opened the box, and Ron's ring lay inside.
"I guess she said no?" she breathed, rising with the box, handing it back to Draco.
"No, Ginny, it's not-"
"It's okay Draco. Harry was right, there never was anything between us," she said, voice barely audible. Draco took the ring from Ginny, but cast it back to the ground. He instead grabbed her hands and pulled her into a quick embrace.
"The ring belongs to Ron," he whispered. Just as quickly as he pulled her into the embrace did he release her. "Give it back to him for me, will you?" Without waiting for an answer, Draco swiftly walked down the hall to his apartment, threw the door open, and shut it quietly behind him.
Ginny picked up the box again, and couldn't help but smile slightly, before the tears began falling.
~~
Ron was currently running down the road, trying to ignore the weird looks he was getting. He had three goals in mind.
Goal number one: find Draco and beat the crap out of him, and get his ring back.
Goal number two: grovel at Pansy's feet for forgiveness.
Goal number three : attempt to get a refund on the ring after Pansy dumps him.
No, Ron wasn't having a good day. But that didn't stop him from running around downtown London at three fifty-five in the morning. As he ran up the stairs, Ron wondered just how Harry was doing. He knew Draco and Harry were staying on the same floor, maybe Harry knew which room was Draco's. That would save Ron from waking up the whole floor looking for the ring- stealing, get- you- drunk- then- drop- a- beam- on- your- head- Malfoy.
Ron ran out of the stairwell, but didn't continue running down the hall. Not when his sister was crying in the middle of it.
"Ginny?" he asked quietly. She peeked throw the gap in her arms at him, before throwing her arms around his shoulders.
"Ron! I've just made the biggest mistake of my life!" she sobbed into his chest. "And Draco told me to give you back your ring."
"Uh, thanks," he said, taking the ring and slipping it into his pocket. "But what's wrong, Gin?"
"I just made a really big mistake. Can we just go home?" she asked quietly.
"Sure. I'll hail the Knight Bus, okay?"
"Thanks Ron."
~~~
Pansy was still throwing her clothes into bags when Ron and Ginny walked into Ron's flat.
"What's going on?" Ginny asked.
"Oh, nothing much, Gin. Ron just seems to be happy with his little nurse. And you owe me your crystal ball by the way," Pansy said darkly, not looking up from her task.
"Honestly Pansy! I was angry! It didn't mean anything! I was just playing around."
No, Ron did not know how to handle ex-Death Eaters who happened to be his girlfriend.
Well, soon to be ex- girlfriend.
"Just playing around?! How dare you! Have you any idea what I gave up for you? Huh? Do you know what it's like to see your parents killed because you fell for some guy? Do you know what it's like to have assassins on your trail, every step of every day of your life? Well? Oh yeah, that's right, I never told you about the threats I got, about the harassment I suffered, about the looks and shame, and how I lost almost all of my friends... And you were just playing around with some nurse? I thought I meant something to you. I seriously thought that you understood that I've given up my life for you," she screamed, brandishing a hair brush at him.
"I... why didn't you tell me?" he questioned, pulling her into his arms.
"I didn't want you to think I was a little weakling," she whispered, leaning against him.
"I'm so sorry," he breathed into her hair.
Ginny couldn't help but smile. No matter how many fights the two had been through, no matter how many times Pansy moved out, no matter how many times Ron was sleeping on the couch, they always pulled through it, ever since sixth year. Ginny couldn't imagine having something like that with any man, well, any man she had a slight chance with. Draco was off limits to her.
For one, he hated her.
For another, Parvati had her hooks in him.
For the third, and final reason, she had just slept with Harry.
No, life wasn't looking up for her at the moment.
Ron and Pansy ended their embrace, each a bit red in the face at Ginny's presence. But, Pansy didn't forgive and forget that quickly. She pulled her hand back and slapped Ron across the face.
"And don't you dare do that again!" With that, she stormed out of the living room and slammed the door to her room shut.
Even though Ron and Pansy had lived together for the better part of their five years out of Hogwarts, they each had separate rooms that they could decorate to their liking. Whichever room they slept in was usually determined at the last minute.
But it was very apparent that Ron was sleeping in his own bed tonight.
"Well," Ron said slowly, turning to face Ginny. "I should have known she wouldn't have forgiven me that quickly. Anyway, you can sleep on the couch. I would volunteer my room, but I have to be at work in two hours, and I don't want to wake you up when I shower and change. Oh here," he said, pulling out some money from his pocket.
"Here is three Galleons, seven Sickles and thirteen Knuts, my change from the Knight Bus. I'll just grab you some blankets and a pillow," Ron said, handing the money to Ginny, who looked curiously at it, not knowing where to put it.
Remember, the youngest Weasley is still clad only in Harry's T-shirt.
Ron pulled Pansy's bags off the couch and placed them on the ground, throwing a couple of blankets and a pillow from the linen closet in their place.
"Hey Gin, you are going to tell me what happened later, okay? And about this whole crystal ball thing," he said, hugging his sister before retreating to his room. Ginny dumped the money on the coffee table before flopping into the makeshift bed, slowly drifting into a sleep haunted by shots of liquor, Harry, and the marriage of Draco and Parvati.