Disclaimer: Again, characters and places with the exception of Marigold belong to J.K. Rowling.
She had almost made it back to the bedroom when a hand shot out from behind her and imprisoned her wrist. She turned to find a very angry Draco. His temper had been in check when he was around his daughter, but it was quite obviously unleashed at the moment.
"What in the blazes did you think you were doing?" Draco demanded. "I told you to stay!"
"Yes, well, I've never been good at taking orders," she replied coolly. "I don't know what on earth is wrong with. Perhaps I should be put down..."
"What?"
"Put down, as in 'putting down Fido,' because he's made one too many messes on the carpet."
"What are you blathering on about?"
"I was alluding to the fact that if you had wanted someone to sit, stay and roll over, you should have gotten a dog."
"And I was trying to make the point that this is my house and you'll follow my rules!"
"I'd say we're getting dangerously close to crossing the line from 'host' to 'captor' again, Malfoy!"
"So I'm to play the good little host while you run about doing whatever you please?"
"I was wrong. It happens. I invaded your privacy and I'm sorry. I honestly don't know why it has to be a big secret, anyway. You and Pansy have a daughter. Big bloody deal!"
"Are you honestly as daft as all that?"
"What am I missing? Just tell me!"
"Nothing," Draco said with annoyance. "I'm tired of this. Get your traveling case and remember the two rules for this little adventure. You aren't to talk to about magic around her, and you aren't to talk about her to anyone."
"Fine." Ginny wrenched her wrist out of Draco's grasp and stalked to her room.
When she arrived she found Minnie sitting on the bed.
"You know, this is much more comfortable than the floor," the cat drawled. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying."
"Then perhaps we should talk to someone about replacing you with a model that doesn't leak."
"He's so frustrating!" Ginny whined as she collapsed on the bed. "Honestly Minnie. He's got all these inane little rules. 'No magic around my daughter.' Just because it's illegal for her to practice underage..."
"Daughter?" The cats ears perked up.
"-I mean for Christ-sakes! I only wanted a simple non-ambiguous answer, so I followed him..." Ginny's words trailed off. "I'm babbling again, aren't I?"
"Like a brook," remarked the cat. "Now what was this about Draco having a daughter?"
"Her name is Marigold, she lives in the east wing... I mean granted, I didn't really see him as the father type, but I suppose it was quite natural for him and Pansy to have a child. He really seems quite
paternal around her..."
"Are you as daft as you seem?" The cat queried. "Or is this merely a demonstration of your amazing theatrical prowess?" At Ginny's questioning look Minnie continued. "Marigold Malfoy- her death was all over the papers last year."
"But why would they say she was dead when she wasn't?" Ginny wondered aloud.
"Well I don't know, Velma, but jinkies, perhaps it has something to do with the whole 'mysterious disappearance' bit Draco pulled off last year," Minerva said sarcastically.
"Velma?" Ginny wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Jinkies?"
"Muggle television program," Minerva explained. In response to Ginny's quizzically raise eyebrows, she became defensive. "What? There's one in the study and sometimes I get bored!"
"I'm having a crisis and you're talking about your new hobby?"
"Alright then, back to you."
"Thank you," Ginny replied. "So what you're saying with your cat-babble is that I made a complete ass of myself?"
"Well, that wouldn't be the particular swear word that would best describe your behavior, but essentially, yes." The cat explained, "And laying there with your face buried in a pillow isn't going to do anything to fix this."
"Well, I can't do much of anything right now," Ginny reasoned. "I'm supposed to be getting slumber party supplies."
"Ah... Well, I'm going to have a midnight snack," Minerva said as she stretched, then leaped to the floor. As she left the room she added, "I knew leaving that bit of food in my dish was a good idea..."
Ginny rooted through her trunk until she found her small traveling case, which luckily was the least magical of all her belongings.
Grabbing a pillow beneath her free arm, she sprinted out of the room. If she was lucky, Draco wouldn't be as angry as he had been earlier. She knew she was supposed to be trying to make peace, but she wanted the whole story, and she was going to get it, come hell or high water.
Draco was sitting on a stool in front of the stovetop waiting for the pot of milk to boil when McGonagall pranced into the room.
"You know, one of the benefits of being able to do magic is that it doesn't take twenty minutes to make cocoa," she advised.
"It tastes better this way," Draco argued.
"Otherwise meaning: 'Ginny and I had a frightful row, help me Professor McGonagall!'" The cat retorted as Draco glared at her. The feline turned serious. "She really didn't know about any of it. She's usually much less daft, but with everything lately she's just not quite as quick on the uptake as she usually is, if you know what I mean."
Draco didn't respond, just glared at the stove.
"I know you're having a hard time of it, but she is, too. Think about letting her know whatever it is you're hiding. Perhaps you both deserve a little trust." The cat looked up at him pleadingly, and noticed that he wouldn't even glance in her direction. She sighed. "Fine. You're both destined to die sad and alone? Anything?" She gave up. "I'm leaving. Stir the milk before it gets a skin."
He finally looked at the tabby as she was walking from the room.
"I am not kidding around here, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said. "No one likes a skin."
With that parting bit of advice, the cat was gone.
She had almost made it back to the bedroom when a hand shot out from behind her and imprisoned her wrist. She turned to find a very angry Draco. His temper had been in check when he was around his daughter, but it was quite obviously unleashed at the moment.
"What in the blazes did you think you were doing?" Draco demanded. "I told you to stay!"
"Yes, well, I've never been good at taking orders," she replied coolly. "I don't know what on earth is wrong with. Perhaps I should be put down..."
"What?"
"Put down, as in 'putting down Fido,' because he's made one too many messes on the carpet."
"What are you blathering on about?"
"I was alluding to the fact that if you had wanted someone to sit, stay and roll over, you should have gotten a dog."
"And I was trying to make the point that this is my house and you'll follow my rules!"
"I'd say we're getting dangerously close to crossing the line from 'host' to 'captor' again, Malfoy!"
"So I'm to play the good little host while you run about doing whatever you please?"
"I was wrong. It happens. I invaded your privacy and I'm sorry. I honestly don't know why it has to be a big secret, anyway. You and Pansy have a daughter. Big bloody deal!"
"Are you honestly as daft as all that?"
"What am I missing? Just tell me!"
"Nothing," Draco said with annoyance. "I'm tired of this. Get your traveling case and remember the two rules for this little adventure. You aren't to talk to about magic around her, and you aren't to talk about her to anyone."
"Fine." Ginny wrenched her wrist out of Draco's grasp and stalked to her room.
When she arrived she found Minnie sitting on the bed.
"You know, this is much more comfortable than the floor," the cat drawled. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying."
"Then perhaps we should talk to someone about replacing you with a model that doesn't leak."
"He's so frustrating!" Ginny whined as she collapsed on the bed. "Honestly Minnie. He's got all these inane little rules. 'No magic around my daughter.' Just because it's illegal for her to practice underage..."
"Daughter?" The cats ears perked up.
"-I mean for Christ-sakes! I only wanted a simple non-ambiguous answer, so I followed him..." Ginny's words trailed off. "I'm babbling again, aren't I?"
"Like a brook," remarked the cat. "Now what was this about Draco having a daughter?"
"Her name is Marigold, she lives in the east wing... I mean granted, I didn't really see him as the father type, but I suppose it was quite natural for him and Pansy to have a child. He really seems quite
paternal around her..."
"Are you as daft as you seem?" The cat queried. "Or is this merely a demonstration of your amazing theatrical prowess?" At Ginny's questioning look Minnie continued. "Marigold Malfoy- her death was all over the papers last year."
"But why would they say she was dead when she wasn't?" Ginny wondered aloud.
"Well I don't know, Velma, but jinkies, perhaps it has something to do with the whole 'mysterious disappearance' bit Draco pulled off last year," Minerva said sarcastically.
"Velma?" Ginny wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Jinkies?"
"Muggle television program," Minerva explained. In response to Ginny's quizzically raise eyebrows, she became defensive. "What? There's one in the study and sometimes I get bored!"
"I'm having a crisis and you're talking about your new hobby?"
"Alright then, back to you."
"Thank you," Ginny replied. "So what you're saying with your cat-babble is that I made a complete ass of myself?"
"Well, that wouldn't be the particular swear word that would best describe your behavior, but essentially, yes." The cat explained, "And laying there with your face buried in a pillow isn't going to do anything to fix this."
"Well, I can't do much of anything right now," Ginny reasoned. "I'm supposed to be getting slumber party supplies."
"Ah... Well, I'm going to have a midnight snack," Minerva said as she stretched, then leaped to the floor. As she left the room she added, "I knew leaving that bit of food in my dish was a good idea..."
Ginny rooted through her trunk until she found her small traveling case, which luckily was the least magical of all her belongings.
Grabbing a pillow beneath her free arm, she sprinted out of the room. If she was lucky, Draco wouldn't be as angry as he had been earlier. She knew she was supposed to be trying to make peace, but she wanted the whole story, and she was going to get it, come hell or high water.
Draco was sitting on a stool in front of the stovetop waiting for the pot of milk to boil when McGonagall pranced into the room.
"You know, one of the benefits of being able to do magic is that it doesn't take twenty minutes to make cocoa," she advised.
"It tastes better this way," Draco argued.
"Otherwise meaning: 'Ginny and I had a frightful row, help me Professor McGonagall!'" The cat retorted as Draco glared at her. The feline turned serious. "She really didn't know about any of it. She's usually much less daft, but with everything lately she's just not quite as quick on the uptake as she usually is, if you know what I mean."
Draco didn't respond, just glared at the stove.
"I know you're having a hard time of it, but she is, too. Think about letting her know whatever it is you're hiding. Perhaps you both deserve a little trust." The cat looked up at him pleadingly, and noticed that he wouldn't even glance in her direction. She sighed. "Fine. You're both destined to die sad and alone? Anything?" She gave up. "I'm leaving. Stir the milk before it gets a skin."
He finally looked at the tabby as she was walking from the room.
"I am not kidding around here, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said. "No one likes a skin."
With that parting bit of advice, the cat was gone.