Senselessness and Sensitivity

Disclaimer: I reiterate my previous statement

Miss Ginny Weasley was vexed. She lay on a low couch, a teacup of Pepper-up potion held in her thin white fingers. Countless pastel scarves were draped over her slender form. She sneezed.

'Oh my dear child, I do declare!' Mrs Weasley flew into the room, her lacy bonnet bobbing up and down over her tightly curled hair.  She swooped down over her ailing daughter with a plate of current muffins. Miss Weasley raised her blue, tearful eyes to the anxious brown ones of her mother.

 Alas, mama, I fear that I am not long for this world. I feel life slowly slipping away from me..' this heartfelt expostulation was interrupted by the insistent ringing of a bell from Miss Granger's quarters.

The distracted mama deposited the plate of buttered muffins on Miss Weasley's lap and trotted upstairs, greatly offending the rug by shouting at it. 'I'm not just here to be walked over you know!' It spat in. Turning a faded tassel to Miss Weasley, it beseeched. 'Is it too hard ma'am to want a little respect. Begging your pardon but I have rights, though I may be just a lowly rug.'

 Ginny sniffed. 'Silence, you insolent doormat. I have troubles much more pressing than yours. The dashing Sir Malfoy has forsaken me! I have been invalided for a week now, and no sign of him.' She raised a pristine white handkerchief and delicately dabbed her eyes.

 Now, despite being rather downtrodden, the rug had a good heart and to see a maiden in such obvious distress, well, it cut her deep. And so it was with a resigned countenance that she edged closer to the sofa and leaned over confidentially. 'Well dear, I heard from the keyhole that Sir Malfoy is having some trouble with the law over some of his.' Here the carpet coughed loudly. 'Less noble ventures.' Disregarding Miss Weasley's rather naively puzzled air, the rug continued. 'Listen my dear, I know men. I'm sure that when Mr Malfoy has resolved his business troubles he'll be back in Ottery St. Catchpole before the end of the season.' She patted the woeful Miss Weasley on the shoulder. The woeful Miss Weasley managed a rather watery smile, 'Why, I do hope you are right.' And bit thoughtfully into a current bun.

Miss Granger meanwhile, was also much vexed. Sitting in the upstairs parlour with smelling salts and servants gathered about her, she wafted her handkerchief back and forth in front of her face.

 'Ah me!' She exclaimed. 'I am nearing the age of five and twenty and am yet no closer to finding a husband than I was at four and twenty. Alas!' Bunberry, a male maid sporting a frilly white apron knelt down at her be-slippered feet.

 'Oh chin up dear! There's that Mr Potter, 'e's awful 'ansom'.

'Indeed, yet I fear that he is soon to be betrothed to the beautiful Countess Chang. Alack!'

The maid tried again, 'There's always nice Mr Longbottom from over Godric's Hollow way.'

Miss Granger breathed out vehemently through her thin nostrils. 'I will be cold in my grave, Bunberry, before I consent to marry that simpleton. He would bore the leggings off a village idiot'. She then sniffed loudly, making her disgust obvious.

The hapless Bunberry tried one more. 'What about Lord Weasley?'

Miss Granger shot the impudent servant a look that could have curdled milk.

'How dare you even speak that rascal's name! I have not spoken to that rogue since the day he left me standing at the altar. When I think of the scandal it caused!' She took a long sniff from one of the many bottles surrounding her, and seemed to recover her composure. She then proceeded to turn her wrath on the ill-fated Bunberry. 'You, you are a disgrace to this manor. Such insolence is not to be born! Treacherous villain, out of my sight! Bunberry promptly scurried out of the door, apron flapping about his little bald head.

Miss Granger sighed as she took another sniff. Wretched servants and no husband. Things were in a rather dismal state of affairs.

There was knock on the door of the manor. Bessie hurried to open it. Standing outside the door was a tall gentleman dressed all in black with an extremely imposing air. He swept his hat off and bowed low. 'My good woman, is your mistress at home to company this fine morning'.

'Indeed Sir.' Blushed the young maid. 'May I inquire as to the name of the gentleman who wishes to call on her?'

The handsome stranger smiled seductively,

'Sir Draco Malfoy, at your service'.