Author's Notes: hey guys. While I've been listening to Audioslave, and checking my e-mails, it hit me that I had a couple people who actually WANTED to see this story continue! I didn't think you guys liked it that much, but okay. Here's the next chapter you just ACHED for. ^_^

Disclaimer: what? You think I own this?

Chapter Four: The Calm Before the Storm

"What trouble has Ron gotten himself into now…?" Mrs. Weasley grumbled as she stomped, hunched over, through the dungeon halls. Mr. Weasley was walking nervously beside her, muttering a little incoherent nonsense about it "not being that bad." He was promptly ignored as the couple finally reached the end of the stone-adorned hall, a large wooden door as entrance to their destination.

Upon opening it, their starved eyes were greeted, not with a great lot of stone, as they were accustomed to seeing in dungeons, but a large, beautifully furnished office. The latter trait was what truly astonished Mrs. Weasley, who decided only a sort of magic she had never learned in school could make a cellar this cozy.

Taking a seat, she and her husband began to recount all of Ron's glorious adventures (and those that happened to come only with spots of bad luck, which Ron ran into often.) Ginny, who was another reason the Weasley heads-of-house had been called to Hogwarts, didn't really have too many interesting situations she'd had to pull herself out of. They were able to recall the many pranks Fred and George had pulled on her, what with Ginny being the only girl and all (although that matter could be debated upon if one thinks of how shrill Ron screams when he sees a spider.)

As they were laughing, the lavishly decorated door was opened a second time that hour, as Lucius Malfoy and Vernon Dursley (eyes bulging) tried to enter at the same time. Lucius was fit enough that he could have made it if Dudley weren't also trying to get his immense mass past Mr. Malfoy's knees.

With an irritated scowl, Lucius worked up enough effort and energy to yank out his wand and instantly, the two Durselys were compressed in two boxes of cardboard. Mr. Dursley's incoherent hollers about "loonies" were muffled by the bubble wrap, and Dudley's face turned purple as he noticed the packaging tape that had been placed over his mouth and nose.

"Lucius!" Mr. Weasley stood with a frown gracing his already aggravated features. Malfoy straightened himself and took a seat farthest from the Weasleys. "That's hardly fair! They can't defend themselves!"

Mrs. Weasley, feeling another Muggle-rights speech coming on, got straight to the point. "Let them go, you snotty snake!"

Lucius gasped at the insult (as though amazed someone had dared to defy his stature) and raised his wand a second time to place Mrs. Weasley in some tupperware, when Snape walked in. Without thinking, he returned the Dursleys to their original nervous states and brought a fainted Petunia in from the hall. Her head knocked against the wall two or three times, but the snoring woman refused to wake.

He sat down in his own chair, muttered some little thing about Dumbledore arriving in a moment, and began a load of paperwork behind his desk, which sat in the corner. The Grangers walked in sometime later, greeted warmly with smiles from the Weasleys, and sat down as well.

After them, a woman with downcast eyes, beautifully blonde, but wearing black. She took her seat beside Lucius, and calmly asked him (by whispering in his ear) what was the matter with their little boy, as though he were still in his first year. After a moment of dull silence, she looked to Mrs. Weasley.

"Your boy is Ron, isn't it?" her look was that of pure innocence. Numb, Mrs. Weasley nodded. "I recall that name, fairly well… Is he one of Draco's friends? I've never heard a bad thing about Ron; he must know my boy."

Mrs. Weasley was too stiff to move. Did this woman ever get out of her house? Did she know how her son and husband treated other people or had she just been hit on the head a bit too hard? Jumping to conclusions, the plump woman silently gasped. Maybe Lucius was abusive and that was why Draco was so cruel to other children and why Mrs. Malfoy had amnesia… and perhaps he was in the Mafia too, and on the weekends, went out to Vegas and gambled! Or kick-boxed for money! Oh, Mrs. Weasley thought. What a horrible man! He probably bet on horse races! There was a chance Mrs. Malfoy had discovered his drug-smuggled secret, and he'd knocked her out cold to keep her from telling! Maybe Voldemort was really hiding out in Brazil, making millions on tobacco…. Was tobacco in Brazil? Wait, where did tobacco come from anyway?

"Ron and Draco," Mrs. Weasley eyed the woman suspiciously, "know each other."

"Marvelous! He must come over sometime! Draco seldom keeps any friends at the house, though he never really seems lonely. I think he's worried he'll interrupt his father's work or something, because he knows how important that is. Lucius is always chattering away with so many boring people Draco ought to have someone over to keep him company!" Mrs. Malfoy clapped her hands once, an excited expression on her face.

"Yes…" Mrs. Weasley's eyes weren't inside her head anymore.

"You have a daughter too, don't you? Jennifer? Jean…" She put a finger to her chin and looked up, trying to remember so the small talk could proceed.

After a little stuttering, Mrs. Weasley could speak. "Ginny." Who'd have thought the Malfoy woman would be so friendly?

"Oh, that's right! Ginny!" Her smile grew wider and a look on her face appeared that rather scared good-natured Mrs. Weasley. "We hear enough about her at our house."

******

"Draco! Do you realize what you're doing?!" Ginny screamed, hands placed firmly on her hips. "You've got your ribcage on backwards!!"

Confused, Draco paused the race and sat back on his heels to observe his work. The wooden dinosaur skeleton didn't look very menacing, as they head wouldn't stay on staright, it was only two feet tall, and as Ginny perceived, the rib cage was definitely wrong. And Malfoys were supposed to be geniuses, Ginny thought. Where are his prized genes now?

"DONE!" A couple in the back had finished assembling their Tyrannosaurus Rex first.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wong are the winners!" Draco rolled his eyes. As if everyone didn't already know… Jumping up and down for joy, (they had won a stereo,) the couple ended up having their own little smooch fest right beside the T-Rex, the least appropriate of places. "Mr. and Mrs. Wong…" Mr. Dirdle began, a twinkle in his eye and one under his handlebar mustache too, as he was smiling and the light reflected off his perfect teeth, "You may leave for you show of affections and genuine love for one another in happy times."

The now-happy couple--for they certainly that way when they had walked in around six—entwined their two hands together and walked off, beaming.

"W-waitaminute…" Ginny stuttered, blinking rapidly as though something horrid had just passed her line of vision. "They got to leave early… just because they won a stupid little game?!" She unconsciously pointed at Mr. Dirdle, as though accusing him of holding the many other couples prisoner. The old pair in the back, however, had clasped hands, threw off their hats (of which they each had three), and run out the doors on their own. No one was really ready to try to stop them.

"No, no, Mrs. Malfoy!" The therapist grinned, watching Ginny cringe. She hated that name, and had once thought it was the ugliest thing she had ever heard, especially when she thought of the person it belonged to. Now it was worse, and, if possible, even uglier, since it was a name that now belonged to her. She whimpered audibly. "They left because they kissed… willingly." His grin widened as he adjusted his cuff links. Ginny sulked at both the idea of kissing Draco and the thought of staying in this madhouse. Mr. Dirdle, however, droned on, his little boy Tommy bouncing a ball at his side.

"A kiss is the best way to show affection to your partner. Here, we are dedicated to achieving the best in your marriages, so… we would like it very much if you could kiss and just leave, so we could pay attention to those with real problems."

Ginny turned her red head to face Draco who hadn't heard a word anyone had said, and was chunking pieces of the stupid wooden model (which was supposed to teach cooperation) at other couples around the room, a few of which were kissing. He congratulated himself as he hit one couple in the small space where their lips connected, though he slouched when he saw it didn't really affect their kiss. He was hoping to knock a tooth out.

"Draco!" He turned suddenly, alarmed. Oh… it was her. That woman never ceased to find something to scream at him for, though now she seemed to be having a little trouble with her words. Perhaps she was searching for the perfect insult, or the best sort of slang to use in this situation. Maybe her anger had finally boiled up to a point where her veins would pop, and he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. He could call his house and pretend he was the police, telling Potter he and Ginny had just been killed in a car accident, and they wouldn't be coming home for supper.

"KISS ME!" Now, at this point, Draco had convinced himself that he was hallucinating. It worked rather well and he wasn't really bothered by her request for quite some time.

Then she repeated her demand.

And it scared the crap out of him.

"WHAT?!" His eyes widened and he blinked rapidly, afraid he would lose them if they bulged out anymore. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, as fear made his body tremble. He wasn't hesitant to show Ginny frightened him. Heck, she must have threatened him into marrying her. That's the sort of thing that happens when you turn out so darn good-looking…

"I said," Ginny looked down at the floor. "I want you to kiss me."

"No!" Draco gasped. He was so astonished, he could barely breathe.

"Listen, if you and I kiss, we can get out of this mess and go home!" Her expression turned to that of a pout as her eyes finally met his rather large ones. "Please, Draco?"

"I… I… That is… We… We're… not even friends!" He stuttered. His speech just hadn't been what it used to be.

"Yes we are!" Ginny grabbed his hand, showing him his own ring. "We're practically married!! We have three kids! We must have kissed thousands of times before this! It shouldn't be so hard!"

"I… I don't know what kind of sandwiches you like. Or what day of the week you were born on. Or your favorite color. Or your favorite movie. Or—"

"Draco!" Ginny scowled. "How does that matter in one little kiss?"

"Well, if you like ham and cheese sandwiches, I could think it means something to kiss you."

Ginny's dumbfounded expression preceded her words. "Why?"

"Because then at least, we'd have something else in common besides these two little rings and the fact we hate each other!"

At the mention of them, Ginny looked down at her own hand, wondering vaguely why Draco, coming from the family he did, couldn't have afforded better. Not that she was complaining or anything, since the stone on hers outdid Hermione's, but she could have sworn his family was "in the money." These were earlier thoughts, and her later ones turned to his last comment. "I don't hate you, Draco." She muttered. "I never really did."

Couples were being turned out of the doors left and right.

"I was just always disappointed in you. People had always spoken so highly of your family. I thought you'd be a little nicer to people, that's all."

Mr. Dirdle looked to Ginny and Draco, who were the only ones sitting calmly on the floor. Every other couple was arguing, getting into slap fights or wondering why they hadn't kissed earlier in the session. Men who had rediscovered their wives were inviting them out to dinner, which all of them sorely needed, as it was nine o' clock.

"You upset me so much. I don't know why you have to be so angry with me all the time."

There were about fifteen couples left.

Finally, Ginny just sucked it up and spoke to Draco like an equal, not some scum that always insulted her looks or her family, or the superior snot who was always putting everyone down. They were in the same boat, now.

"I was born on a Friday and I hate ham sandwiches. My favorite is turkey, and I have this odd obsession with pineapple sandwiches too! I don't like cats, I'm a dog person, and my favorite ice cream is strawberry, partly because it's pink and partly because I like strawberries too! My favorite color is red and sometimes I think that's the only reason I was chosen into Gryffindor because no one else in my class pays much attention to me! My favorite movie is The Little Mermaid, but I also like that old Shirley Temple film made in the thirties called Captain something where she danced with a man named Epson, who would later portray Uncle Jed in the Beverly Hillbillies! Uncle Jed, this year, is 95, and I like to keep up with stuff like that because it interests me!! Shirley Temple represented the US in the UN and my favorite show is Happy Days because I have a crush on Fonzie who isn't young anymore either!!"

Ginny had no time to catch her breath after her speech, as Draco had finally complied with her request.

********

"Spiderman! Spiderman! Does whatever a spider can! Spins a web! Any size! Catches thieves! Just like flies!" Hermione rubbed her temples, squeezing her eyes shut and believing that if she rubbed hard enough, she might just wake up. But when she opened her eyes, the same sight was before her. The children were smacking each other with pillows and trying to arrange couch cushions so that it looked vaguely similar to a "fort." Rose, the wildest of them all, was attacking everyone with barbie dolls, claiming that barbie was really into espionage, so she had an excuse to hurt her siblings and cousins.

Neville and Pansy's little adopted Chinese baby was wailing at the top of her lungs, and Pansy refused to pick the thing up. As Neville tried to calm it, Pansy started a wailing of her own, saying things that bordered on threats and marriage vows.

Ron, hearing the commotion, raced down the stairs and gathered his two oldest (and one of the middle) children up in his arms, hoisting them up the stairs. The oldest of the three was upside down, hitting his head on each step, and laughing uncontrollably. The other two were screaming something about "Daddy's a monster! Daddy's a monster!" and were sticking their little fingers into his eyes and ears. His response consisting of menacing growls and fake attacks on the little boys' stomachs. The twins followed up the stairs, the smaller ones crawled and the infant giggled, as though she knew what was going on. Pansy, seeing Ron had calmed everything down in a span of a few minutes, and actually paying attention to Neville's attempts at calming their own child, stopped her crying and resorted only to sniffles and dabbing at her nose with a tissue.

Hermione blinked a few times, her gaze following the path her husband had taken up the stairs. A smile bloomed on her face, though she hardly noticed it had been the first smile she'd had all day, and at Ron's expense. She arranged the couch cushions back as they were, and carried the extra pillows upstairs to the pallets that had been made for the children in Jonathon's room. She ended up giving each of her children a goodnight kiss, barely being able to recall all the horrible things they'd put her through in one day alone. As she said goodnight to all of them, it hit her that she was using their names… a trait to each of the children she hadn't thought she'd known that morning.

"Good night, Peter." The oldest got his kiss last, and then Hermione was downstairs.

She carried with her two blankets. One was a sheet and the other, rather fluffy, as she didn't know how cold it would be that night. Harry had taken a chair in the children's room to keep an eye on them during the night, and was already knocked out by Mr. Sandman's best stuff. Neville and Pansy were in Ebony's room, separated by five different pillows in the girl's rather large bed. So the only place for Hermione or Ron was the couch. It stretched out to make a rather comfortable bed, and each helped to spread the sheet and the blanket over the entire length of it. Hermione took off her shoes and climbed into the bed beside Ron.

For the oddest of reasons, she did not find it as uncomfortable or awkward as she thought it should have been.

*******

Dumbledore finally entered the room, an argument and a card game of BS later. Mrs. Malfoy had continued to chatter on and on about her "little boy" and why during the summer he should have Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny all over for a little holiday. "Why they could do all sorts of fun things together!" She had declared, not even noticing another couple walk in, the Parkinsons, and an elderly woman, who was Neville's grandmother. By the same vague request they were all there, and each was greeted warmly by the headmaster.

"Now," He began by using a whisper, "I should ask you not to worry yourselves. Your children are fine…."

All the mothers in the room breathed a sigh of relief.

"… To an extent."

Their breath caught in their throats.

"They are in a comatose state, and are not likely to wake up out of this 'spell' unless we take drastic measures."

"What?!" Mrs. Malfoy's manicured hand flew to her mouth. "What's happened to my little boy? Who did this to him? Why, he doesn't have an enemy in the school! No one speaks a bad word about him! He makes friends with everyone, why would someone do this to him?!"

"There is no culprit in this crime, Mrs. Malfoy," Dumbledore addressed her calmly. "It was a Potions accident and is no one's fault." He stressed the last part as a few stray glances had been shot at Snape. The Dursleys had no idea what was going on, but their spirits were raised a little bit when they heard Harry was out of their hair and in a coma.

********

"Sir? Your order's ready," The waiter had been standing in front of the table for five minutes straight, and had had to resort to interrupting the avid conversation of the couple before them. He had been calling the table number for ten minute's time before that, and was growing impatient with their lack of attention. When they finally acknowledged his presence, he handed them their bags and cups, and said goodbye curtly.

A short drive later, one could find them sitting on a bench on the fisherman's docks, admiring the many boats that had called it quits and hung up their nets for the day. They ate their burgers and fries in silence, barely recalling the morning's events.

"What's your favorite tree?" Draco asked, after a sip of his drink.

"Honestly," Ginny talked through her fries, "I'm torn between Bradford Pears and Dogwood trees. Oh, and I like the look of Magnolia too," She paused for a moment, watching a lone sailboat float by. "What's yours?"

"Oak."

"Well, you're a lot more decisive than I am, I'll tell you that."

"I just know what I like. You're picky."

Ginny gasped. "I am not!"

"Yes you are. It took you fifteen minutes to decide what you wanted from the one-page menu! It took you all day to tell me what sort of ice cream you liked best and I know that's because you hadn't chosen."

Ginny laughed, trying to hold her drink in so she wouldn't spew it all over the person next to her. Draco moved a few inches away from her, and, taking another bite of his burger looked ready to jump at any moment.

"You know," She started, after she had calmed down. "I'm probably going to hate you again tomorrow."

He nodded. "I know."

"And everyone else is going to be angry with you too. Hermione and Harry and especially Ron. My brother may always hate you."

He nodded again.

"I don't know about the kids though. They may love you to death for all I know," She finished off the last fry. "But I'm going to make you take care of the baby, so just, steel your nerves for that one, all right?"

He rolled his eyes.

"And since I'm going to hate you tomorrow, Draco, I thought I'd tell you, now…" She stopped just as the sailboat left her line of vision, beyond the horizon at which the sun had set a long time ago, "… that it was nice, just having a quiet night. The first time in forever I haven't been worried about what's going to happen when I wake up." She met his gaze for the first time since she had started speaking, and with a calm tone, started again. "I hate school, Draco. I hate all those pressures in school and I hate the work and I hate my friends. I hate the teachers, who hate me, and I hate their classes. I know everyone else just wants to get back and stop living in whatever sort of place we're in," The sailboat started coming back, "but I'm not upset anymore.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow, for once."

Draco nodded.

*****

Author's notes: WOW that was a little fluffier than I sorta wanted it to be. Anywho, to all you who wanted the new chapter HERE IT IS and I really hope you're happy with it. I was in a writing mood and I'm really proud of myself for getting this done (at last.) Please don't forget to tell me what you think! Review, review, review!