Disclaimer: Harry Potter, characters and places do not belong to me. They belong to the fantastic JK Rowling.
AN: My first HP story, so expect some OCC-ness from the characters. Apologies to all HP fans for any injustice done.
"The Burrow will be perfect for the upcoming engagement party," said the redhead on the other side of the table. She tapped the end of the quill on the parchment before her on the table.
"Why? Is there something wrong with Malfoy Manor?" demanded the fair haired young man sitting across from her. There was a sudden fierce scowl on his face as though she had just insulted his mother, which she had not.
"Of course not," she said, trying to sooth him, biting back a smart retort at the same time. "It's just that since the wedding will be at your place, why not have the engagement party here?"
"You're just afraid of the ghosts that roam the hallways and the plants outside the garden," he said, not unkindly.
An image of her Uncle George being swallowed alive by one of the hippogriff-sized plants came to her mind unwittingly. The plant smacked its lips (petals actually) and burped out a leather shoe that was left of her poor Uncle George. She shuddered, turning to face him.
"I am not," she replied sharply. "The wedding will be held there. I don't see anything wrong with having the engagement party held here."
"And what? Have the gnomes bite off the guests' toes?" he snipped.
Her Uncle George hopping around on one foot as a nasty little gnome danced around him, nipping him on the leg. It wore the most wicked smile imagined.
"I'll have Ron and Harry remove them," she said, giving him a look. "At least the gnomes are better than those gargantum plants you called flowers."
"They are rare plants brought over from the jungles of South America," he said with superiority that said 'I can't believe you know nothing'. "My father specially ordered them from a wizard friend of his thirty years ago. It's practically a family heirloom."
"The Aurors should have a go at with shears," she mumbled.
"What's that?" he asked, looking at her curiously.
"Nothing," she covered quickly, then in a louder tone. "Look, just have the engagement party here at The Burrow. The party will be simple with close friends and family, nothing expensive or anything. The wedding is already close to twenty thousand galleons."
"And counting," he added gleefully.
"Draco," she warned.
"-- don't know the bloody hell you're so upset about!" came the exasperated voice.
The kitchen door swung open to admit in a peeved looking Hermione Granger and a red faced Ron Weasley. Hermione was carrying their six month old baby girl, Isabelle in her arms. The couple stopped in the center of the kitchen.
Draco Malfoy could swear he saw smoke coming out from Hermione's ears. Her hair seemed to be fritzing at the ends.
"I'm upset?! Ronald Weasley! You've been so absorbed in your work that when you come home, all you talk about is– is work!" Hermione cried, waking up the baby who cried as well. "Look what you did!"
"Me?! It was you shouting about that woke the baby!" Ron countered, face as red as his hair. "I've been home for a week and all you do is nag at me! Bloody hell, woman! Can't you give a man a rest?"
"Don't swear in front of the baby, Ronald," Hermione said severely, bouncing Isabelle and trying to calm her down. "I don't nag at you. I wanted to spend time with you. I want you to spend time with the baby. But all you've been doing is catch up with Harry, and the twins and everyone else but your family!" Tears glistened in her brown eyes. "Is that too much to ask?"
"Blimey, 'Mione," he began awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
"Well, you are certainly a rather dimwitted fellow now, aren't you?" Draco said from the table. He had watched with interest the entire time.
Ginny frowned at him. Ron didn't seem to hear what Draco had said. Instead, he crossed over to his wife, taking her hand, rubbing his thumb across it tenderly.
"Hermione, I know I'm rather... oblivious to things and I should have never neglected you or Isabelle in the first place," he said earnestly. "I'm sorry for being such an arse to you all week. I'll make it up to you if you like. I'll take you out. Tonight. Just the two of us."
"Oh, Ron." Hermione was smiling up at him, her wounded feelings fixed by his words and sincere expression in the blue eyes. She was always a sucker for his make up talks.
"Oy, kiss her already," called Draco. "Or take it to another room. Some of us got things to do than to watch you snog each other senseless."
Ron looked startled, as if he just noticed his baby sister and former rival turned sort of friend to soon to be brother in law in the kitchen with them. Annoyance came his freckled face at Draco's look.
"Sod off, Malfoy," he snapped, grabbing Hermione by the arm and leading her up the stairs.
"Now, where were we?" Draco turned a pleased look back to Ginny.
"You do like to annoy him, don't you?" Ginny sighed in fond exasperation at him. "Honestly, six years out of Hogwarts and you two still acted like you're back in first year."
"Oh, come now, Ginny," Draco said with mock hurt. "If you ask me to stop now, I'd be– I'd be absolutely devastated!"
"Still as dramatic as ever, Malfoy," came the well known voice. Harry Potter entered the kitchen, carrying his broomstick in one hand, looking like he just finished practice. A towel was thrown over one shoulder and he used it to wipe the sweat from his neck.
"Still the Boy Who Lived," said Draco, without much malice though.
"What? Did you expect me to just drop dead outside?" Harry asked cheerfully, getting himself a drink.
"I wish," he muttered. Ginny stifled a giggle. The rivalry between them and Ron will never end. While they were civilized to each other, if not cordial, they still bicker like they used to back in Hogwarts. Molly had frowned upon them hexing each other when they stay under her roof.
"Hello, Ginny." Harry planted a chaste – and sweaty – kiss on her cheek. "Where's Ron?"
"At it like rabbits with Hermione, I think." A mental picture of a wolfish Ron with ears and tail wagging with drool coming from his mouth looming over a lascivious Hermione scantily clad in nothing but lace bra and panties came to her mind. She did giggle then, getting puzzled looks from them.
"Must be the wedding plans," said Harry wisely.
"Makes us all barmy," agreed Draco solemnly.
They exchanged looks of horror when they realized they just agreed with each other. Harry coughed, quickly excusing himself from the kitchen, saying he needed to practice some more and made a hasty exit.
Ginny grinned. "You and Harry Potter just reached the first mutual agreement."
"If you mention that, I will kill you," said Draco, giving her his best murderous look.
"Pish posh." She waved him off. "Mum will kill you first before you kill me."
"True. You Weasleys stick together like a flock of birds," he sighed. "Where one flies to, the rest follow. Actually, you remind me some sheep I saw once on a trip to New Zealand. Let me tell you, they are far more dimwitted than your brother upstairs."
"Are you comparing me to sheep, Draco Malfoy?" Ginny spluttered indignantly.
"Be thankful it's not goats," he said.
Ginny didn't know whether to laugh or hex him. He was so infuriating sometimes, making her want to scream out loud. She ran a hand through her red hair, making some standing up on the end.
"The engagement," she said, giving him a meaningful look. "I really want it to be here."
"Didn't Weasley and Granger had their wedding here two years ago?" he said.
"It's different," she replied, her tone indicating her thinning patience. "I'm the only girl in the family and my mum will be happy if we have the party here. At least as a sort of compensation for having the wedding at Malfoy Manor in the first place."
"You're pitting your mother against me, Ginny," he pointed out dryly.
"You're infuriating, do you know that?"
"Yes, and I'm handsome and wealthy and quite a catch," he added with a sly smirk.
"Draco Malfoy!" she cried out, banging her hands on the table, jostling the teacup over, spilling tea across the table in the process. "Oh!"
"Ginny Weasley, please don't shout at the top of your voice," scolded Molly Weasley. "It's unbecoming for you and you are no longer a twelve year old."
"Yes, Mother." Ginny glowered at her fiancé who was grinning at her discomfort and embarrassment at being chastised like a small child.
Molly beamed at her future son in law. "Hello, Draco dear. How is the engagement plan coming along? Not too much trouble now, is it?"
"No, not much. Ginny here seems be letting her temper get the best of her," he said innocently. He saw her spluttered in righteous indignation.
"Honestly, Ginny, can't you discuss this like a proper twenty three year old that you are?" Molly said to her red faced daughter. "There is no need to shout to be heard. I'm sure Draco will listen to you. He is, after all, such a dear."
"A dear?!" Ginny scowled at him, unable to believe how he just wound her mother around his little finger just like what he did with her father as well. The one small consolation was her brothers weren't that easy to be won over by the Malfoy charm. "He's a frightful devil! That's what he is!"
"Ginny!" Molly gave her daughter an aghast look. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I just don't know what's come over her today, Must be the pressure from planning the wedding."
"Understandable, Mrs Weasley." Draco smiled at her sweetly. "I'm sure you'll agree if we have the engagement party here instead of at my place, since the wedding will be held at the Manor."
Molly looked delighted and pleased. She planted a kiss on his cheek. "Oh! That will be lovely! See, Ginny, he is a dear boy. Very thoughtful and polite."
Ginny stared in open mouthed disbelief at the one-eighty he just pulled on her. She wanted to say something, anything but no words seem to come out from her. Her mother left the kitchen happily, ideas formulating in her head on how the garden should look like for the party.
"Well, do shut that mouth, love. You'll let flies in." Draco's tone snapped Ginny out of her stupor and she rounded on him, half furious, half amused.
"Draco Thomas Malfoy!" she let loose a shout that could have woken up the dead. "I can't believe you did that, you– you blonde cretin!"
"Didn't your mother just warned you not to shout?" he drawled. She looked more beautiful when she was angry, with her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.
"Why did you tell her we're having the engagement party here when you didn't want to?" she demanded hotly.
"Because I do want to," he replied easily.
The expressions crossing her face made an interesting picture. She went from furious to stupefy to deflation all in a matter of minutes. She made her way over to him, looking down at him through narrow eyes.
"You– you are just the most infuriating person in this whole world," she said, "and Merlin help me. I'm madly in love with you and I'm getting married to you."
"Come now, Ginny-love, you didn't think I would be that selfish, would you?" He smiled at her, all charming and boyishly innocent with those wide grey eyes. In this angle, he looked like the angels she used to read in books when she was younger. "Modus vivendi. To compromise. I am compromising now for you, aren't I?"
"I don't even know what to think," she sighed, all anger went out of her. He held out his arms to her and she fell into them, resting her forehead on his chest. "Draco Malfoy, you are just so utterly impossible," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. "One minute you can be so- so devious, the next you're charming the knickers off my mother. I can't even figure you out."
"I wouldn't want to charm the knickers off your mother," he said blandly. "She must wear polka dots. Horrible colours."
She lifted her head up at him, tried to muster a scowl but failed seeing as he was smiling down at her with so much tenderness. Without a word, she leaned up and gave him a lingering kiss.
"Mum was right," she told him with a smile. "You are a dear. But a really devillish sort of dear."
"And you won't have it any other way." He leaned down to kiss her again. "Now, the engagement plans, darling?"
End.