Author's Note: Ah, IR. This story is officially the bane of my existence. Fanfiction-wise, at least. Sad, really. It was terrible from the start, and just spiraled off into an out-of-character ridiculous mess with the plot of a demented soap opera. Pretty much an absolute disgrace to J.K. Rowling's books. Or maybe it's beyond a disgrace. In any case, it's just bad.
But I have a new Ron/Hermione chapter fic project I want to start, and so I figure to start that, I should first finish this.
And I shall.
There'll probably be a few chapters after this one.
Of course, this one is utterly pointless - just a forewarning. Nothing happens. It does not advance the plot in the least bit, which is dreadful because the plot is in serious need of advancement.
Ah well.
Suffer.
"You're quite cheerful," Mrs. Weasley informed her daughter.
"What?" Ginny asked innocently, placing a few dishes into cupboards and attempting to refrain from twirling around the kitchen. "Can't a girl put away dishes when her mother asks her to?"
"Well, I certainly don't object to that, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling, "But you seem a bit more . . . delighted than usual."
"Delighted?" she asked lightly. "I don't know what you--"
All right, she couldn't keep this up any longer.
"Harry said he loved me," she confessed, beaming.
Mrs. Weasley gasped and immediately pulled her daughter into a tight hug. "Oh, Ginny."
"Mum!" Ginny exclaimed, giggling and attempting to loosen her mother's grip.
"I'm so happy for you, dear!" Mrs. Weasley sounded a bit tearful. Ginny hoped she wouldn't start crying.
Oh, Ginny, I'm so glad you've finally gotten yourself a love life! she thought sarcastically.
"I know you've adored him for absolute ages," continued Mrs. Weasley, squeezing her daughter tighter. "I remember the twins telling me about that Valentine poem you wrote him in your first year--"
"Mum!" Ginny repeated, a bit more sharply.
"What?" Mrs. Weasley backed away and dabbed at her eyes with her apron. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny. But it's just lovely. I'm so happy for you." She sniffled audibly and then reached for a rag to wipe off the counter. However, before she could actually get to work, she burst out into, "Oh, Ginny, do you think we'll have another wedding soon?"
"Mum!" (This was getting a bit repetitive.) "That's completely silly. He just broke things off with his girlfriend--"
"Oh, that Susan girl?" Mrs. Weasley asked, sniffing in dislike. "I never was very fond of her. She was a bit too blonde for him."
"Too blonde?" Ginny repeated, unable to resist a giggle.
"Oh, yes," Mrs. Weasley nodded. "I always thought his hair looked much better with yours."
"That's ridiculous," Ginny informed her mother, but couldn't hide her smile.
"Yes, well," Mrs. Weasley said, dabbing at her eyes again, "I know, dear. But I know how much you care about him, and he's such a nice boy--"
"Mum, he's twenty-two."
"Young man," Mrs. Weasley corrected herself. "Oh, I still remember him as that scrawny little first year at King's Cross."
Ginny couldn't help grinning. "So do I."
"And you kept begging to go see him," Mrs. Weasley continued, laughing a bit. She sighed, a bit more solemn now. "Just think of what he's gone through since then."
Ginny bit her lip. "I don't really like to."
"You--"
"Fred and George exploded a lamp in the living room," Harry announced, walking into the kitchen. "Just thought you'd like to know."
"What?!?" Mrs. Weasley exploded, fury immediately taking over her features. "That lamp has been in the family for nearly eighty years! Oh, those two have gone too far this time--"
Mrs. Weasley prepared to storm out of the kitchen, but paused to stare fondly at Harry and attempt to straighten his hair. As predicted, it wasn't very successful, and so she pulled him into a hug instead.
"Oh, Harry, dear."
Harry, looking slightly bemused, hugged her back. "Um. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."
"Of course, dear," she said, making one last attempt to straighten his hair and then stomping out into the living room. Ginny could hear her muffled yelling.
"I think she's getting a bit worked up, personally," Ginny said, attempting to remain cool. So he loved her. Big deal. Men loved her all the time. Or . . . well, not at all, actually. But that was a minor detail.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That is relatively minor for the twins."
"Definitely," Ginny said, smiling and leaning back onto the counter.
She felt something squish underneath her elbow.
Oh, for the love of God--
She had put her elbow in the butterdish.
Well, this was just fabulous.
"Holy s--"
Mrs. Weasley waltzed in again, face reddened with anger.
"--cricket," Ginny finished lamely.
Harry was watching her in interest.
"Can't believe it," Mrs. Weasley muttered angrily, "Completely destroyed . . . Very tricky repairing charm to fix it . . . Ginny, get your elbow out of the butterdish . . . Those twins. You'd think they'd grow up . . ."
Harry was staring with an extreme intensity at the kitchen table, and Ginny somehow suspected that he was trying not to laugh.
"All right," Ginny said, standing up and inspecting her shirt. Yay. Buttery goodness. "I'd better go . . . change."
"Right," agreed Harry.
"Because . . . butter," she explained, feeling more than a little bit daft as she gave him a weak smile and positively ran upstairs to her room.
Oh, yes. This was just stunning. It was obvious that she was completely used to having men fall in love with her, what with the casual manner in which she stuck her elbow in the butterdish and used expressions like 'holy cricket.'
Not.
Well, one thing was for certain, she thought bitterly as she pulled a clean shirt out of her bag.
This was certainly going to be interesting.
And probably thoroughly embarrassing as well.
Oh, goodie.
*
"About those flowers," Cryssa said; Draco watched her in the mirror as she brushed her hair. God, she took forever - he couldn't even begin to see the point of brushing the same spot of hair three times, but maybe being ignorant about those kinds of things was part of being a man.
Not that he cared about hair-brushing, anyway.
"What?" he asked coolly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
He hated those damn flowers.
"You got them for Ginny Weasley, didn't you?"
He glared at her. "Of course not."
"Oh, come on, Malfoy," she said, rolling her eyes. "Bright orange? They positively screamed impoverished Weasley trash."
"She's not trash," he said automatically.
Cryssa arched an eyebrow at him.
Oh, shit.
Lucius Malfoy was probably turning in his grave right now. Or he would have been, had he not been blasted into about a hundred little bits by a particularly violent curse. All in all, there really hadn't been much point in burying him.
But still.
"She's lower than trash," he announced, rather pleased at his scathing tone. This was much better. "There isn't a word for her."
"Mmm." Cryssa was still eyeing him skeptically. "I'm sure."
"Dammit, Cryssa, I'm serious."
"Draco, I'm a red roses kind of girl. I'm pretty sure you know that by now."
"Well . . . yeah."
This was bloody ridiculous.
"Those were Ginny Weasley flowers."
"And I've clearly annoyed you like hell over it. My purpose has been served."
"You're not getting off that easily," Cryssa announced, rising from the vanity in a perfectly poised fashion and not bothering to face him. He hated it when she went all snotty like this. In his opinion, the only person who could pull off acting like that was himself. "You've got her on your mind; it's nauseatingly obvious. So either we discontinue this little . . . liaison, or you do something to get over her. I don't want to have to get into this."
"I am over her," Draco protested, irritated. "I was never on her to begin with."
Cryssa smirked.
"Sick-minded bitch," he muttered, brushing out of the room and into the hall.
Fine.
Fine. He'd get Ginny Weasley off his mind. He'd completely forget the Mudblood lover even existed.
And then, well, Cryssa would be lucky if he ever spoke to her again.
*
Susan couldn't believe it.
She had sent Harry six owls, floo'd into his flat twice, and even bought him a new cookbook as a little make up present. But did he care that she was totally sacrificing her self-sufficiency and ability as an independent woman to get back together with him?
She thought not.
Sighing, she paced back and forth through the living room, glaring at the white sweater on the couch. That was definitely Ginny's. Susan couldn't stand Ginny Weasley. And, infuriatingly, it seemed like Harry could stand her. Maybe he even liked her.
But really, there was no way he would ever choose her over Susan.
That was just insanity.
She checked the clock on the mantle - almost eleven at night and he wasn't home yet. God. She didn't know what she was putting up with such a stupid prat of a boyfriend.
He was lucky she was such a sweet and forgiving person.
"God, Harry," she whined to no one in particular, "Where are you?"
"Clingy, are we, Weasley?"
She turned around to see Draco Malfoy standing behind her, smirking.
"Or . . . not Weasley," he corrected himself, sounding not at all apologetic. "What're you doing here?"
Mm. He was definitely hot. Yeah, he'd been a total bastard to Harry and his friends at school, but it wasn't like personality was everything. Looks were important, too. She hated how some people completely disregarded that. They were so shallow.
"Waiting for Harry," she replied, sighing and nonchalantly unbuttoning the top few buttons of her shirt. She ran a hand through her hair. Sure, Harry was her one and only and she'd be totally faithful to him, but to not look good in front of a guy this sexy had to be some kind of crime, right? And she so didn't want the Ministry on her case or anything. "You?"
"I have to talk to Ginny," he replied. "I'm not going to waste my time waiting around for someone who's not here, though."
She started to giggle, then paused.
Wait a second.
Had he just insulted her?
Well, what a jerk. She had to find out if that's what he meant. But in a subtle, inconspicuous way, of course.
"Did you just insult me?" she demanded.
"You really don't miss a thing, do you, Bones?"
"No, not really," she said lightly, flipping her hair. "So, I guess you're leaving."
"You know," he said, and seemed to be very interested in the fact that her blouse was part way unbuttoned, "Maybe I'll stay around. They should be back soon."
"Lovely," she said, flashing him her most dazzling smile. "Maybe we can . . . talk."
He smirked at her. "Talking. Sounds fun."
She leaned a bit closer to him. "Oh, it will be."
*
" . . . And then Harry insulted my nails," Susan exclaimed, pausing and glancing at Draco, apparently to see how she would take the horrifying news.
He didn't know how much more of this he could take.
When, exactly, had 'talking' started meaning actual talking rather than mindless sex?
"Potter's a bastard," he replied dully.
"Ugh," Susan said, wrinkling her nose. It was kind of eerie, to see someone with a nose that perfect. "Don't I know it. I really don't know why I put up with him. And so then, after the nail thing--" she glanced tragically down at her fingernails for a minute before resuming, "--I thought I was fed up. I just truly wasn't going to bother with him anymore."
"Fancy that," Draco deadpanned.
"But then I realized how much we've been through together, and how much I love him, and maybe fingernails aren't worth giving up all of that."
"Deep," said Draco.
"Yeah, I know," she said, widening her eyes as she nodded. "It was this complete epitome."
"Epiphany," he told her.
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
"Right," she said blankly. "So anyway, then I thought, 'wow. I really love him.' And then it reminded me of this Celestina Warbeck song that I used to love--"
Draco cleared his throat pointedly.
"Oh," Susan grinned, delighted. "Do you sing?"
For the love of God.
Draco had never liked Harry Potter. He'd never even disliked Harry Potter. What he felt for stupid Potter was nothing less than pure, violent loathing. But now, after a half an hour of sob stories from The Brainless Wonder, he truly had to pity the bloke for putting up with her for so long.
It was downright miraculous.
Or maybe Potter was just really, really stupid.
. . . Yeah, that was probably it.
"You know, I don't think they're going to get home anytime soon, and I've got things to do," Draco said, standing up and taking a deep breath. For the past thirty minutes, he'd been breathing in the near-dizzying scent of her nauseatingly sweet perfume, and he was pretty sure he had lost a few brain cells in the process.
Yeah. Potter was definitely stupid.
"But I'm not done telling you about what Harry did to me yet!" Susan exclaimed, clearly offended. "Sit down!"
"Tempting as it is, I'd rather Avada Kedavra myself," Draco replied in his most charming tone, and was about to Disapparate when--
Ginny Apparated right into him.
"Aurgh! Dammit, Weasley!" he shouted as he went tumbling onto the couch.
"Oh, God," Ginny said; Potter appeared behind her, and immediately helped her up. "I'm sorry . . . or," she reconsidered, "I would be sorry, if it wasn't you I'd nearly crushed to death."
"Pleasant," he remarked sarcastically.
"Really? That wasn't what I was going for. And--"
"Fine. Don't even notice me, Harry Jack Potter. See if I care," Susan said, standing up and placing her hands on her hips angrily.
"It's James," Ginny corrected her, looking as though she were trying very hard not to laugh.
"What?" Susan snapped.
"Harry James Potter," Ginny explained. "Not Harry Jack Potter."
"Excuse me." And Potter's twit of a girlfriend was clearly angry now. "I am Harry's girlfriend. I think I would know better than you."
"Actually, Susan, it is James," Potter said, a slightly pained expression on his face.
"Really?" Susan asked. "Since when? Why did you change your middle name without asking me first?"
"Since . . . always," Potter informed her.
God. This was pathetic on so many different levels. To think that he'd actually considered seriously dating Ginny Weasley for awhile. Just because she could, on occasion, be fun and witty and sexy, that hardly made up for the fact that the people she associated with were complete nutters.
And this wasn't even including any other members of the Weasley clan.
"I'm out of here," Draco announced.
"Wait," Ginny said, and grabbed his arm. "Why the hell are you here in the first place?"
"I wanted a word with you," he replied evenly.
"About what?" asked Ginny, looking at him quizzically. "Because frankly, Malfoy, I don't want anything to do with you."
"The feeling's entirely reciprocal, Weasley," he said. "Which is why I'd really appreciate if you mental cases would let me leave."
"By all means, go."
"I will," he shot back.
"Wait!"
This time it was Brainless Wonder Girl.
"What??" he snapped impatiently.
She looked up at him from under dark lashes, smiling coyly. "I'd love to be able to continue this . . . discussion another time."
Draco opened his mouth to tell her 'maybe in hell' or something equally as charming, but then glanced up at Ginny. Her dislike of Susan was made slightly obvious by the fact that she looked as though she were about to strangle something.
And, well, if she didn't even have the decency to get out of his head, then the least he could do to repay her was start dating a girl she couldn't stand.
Who knew? Maybe it would even piss Potter off and create a little trouble in paradise.
Oh, the possibilities.
"I would too," he said, smiling back down at Susan. "I'll get in touch with you."
"Fabulous," she said breathily.
And with that, he Apparated back to Malfoy Manor, feeling appropriately conniving and Slytherin-esque.
This was going to be entertaining.
*
"Well," Ginny said intelligently.
"Well," Harry echoed in an equally intellectually stimulating tone.
They glanced at each other.
"Malfoy . . ." Harry started.
"And Susan," Ginny finished.
"Talking," Harry threw in lamely.
"Maybe we should have seen it coming," Ginny said thoughtfully. "I mean, maybe it could even work. After all, they're both . . ."
"Blonde," Harry supplied helpfully.
"Right!" Ginny said. "Blonde. Not to mention unnaturally good-looking."
"You think Malfoy's unnaturally good-looking?" Harry asked, a little more sharply than he'd meant to.
Ginny blushed. "Well, in an . . . unnatural way. And I much prefer . . . natural."
"Oh." Harry grinned at her, not quite sure what to say.
They smiled rather goofily at one another for a moment before returning back to business.
"Well," Ginny said, "I suppose it would be kinda convenient. Then we wouldn't have to worry about Draco bugging me, or Susan crawling after you."
"That's true," Harry agreed. "Maybe we could . . . set something up."
"Yeah!" Ginny said, nodding. "Like . . . a double date."
A double date.
Well, that sounded more than slightly hellish.
But he supposed if it were for the greater good of getting Malfoy and Susan off of their hands . . .
"A double date," said Harry. "Sounds great."
Assuming they all came out of it alive, that was.