The Icing on the Cake by Nokomis

Rating: PG13
Genres: Humor
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 11/07/2004
Last Updated: 11/07/2004
Status: Completed

In a tale of forks, golden tassels and cake, Ginny endures an uncomfortable meal at the
Malfoys.




1. The Icing on the Cake
------------------------



She dropped her fork.



Blushing furiously, she sat frozen-still wondering what she was supposed to do. Leaning over and
picking it off the ground screamed low class, and she had no clue what she would do with the fork
once she picked it up, since she obviously couldn’t eat with it. She looked around the table.
Lucius was speaking in a low voice to Narcissa, occasionally glancing in her direction. Draco was
staring at his plate. No one had noticed the fallen fork.



She considered trying to eat the rest of her meal with only a spoon, but the broccoli was
mocking her with its un-spoon friendly shape. Damn.



This was easily the most awkward and uncomfortable meal she had ever sat through, and she could
only pray that it would end soon. When Draco had told her that his parents wanted to meet her
properly, and that they were invited to dinner she had been optimistic. After all, this was the
first time she was going to actually make an impression on the Malfoys that didn’t involve her
being part of a crowd of redheads or the center of a nefarious plan. It was important for mending
bridges and creating a working relationship with Draco’s parents.



Unfortunately, she had been making the utterly wrong impression for the entire meal. She wasn’t
known for being a shy, easily cowed girl but when she had been lead into the sprawling, utterly
impressive Malfoy Manor she had felt every inch the ignorant country bumpkin. She had stuttered
when Narcissa asked her how she was, had tripped over her heel when Lucius escorted her into the
dining room and had accidently slopped wine down the front of her newly purchased designer dress
robes during appetizers.



And now she had dropped her fork, and had no clue what to do.



“Ginny,” said Narcissa.



She jumped, then said, “W-what?” She mentally cursed herself. Why had she said ‘what’? Why
couldn’t she have said ‘yes’ or something dignified?



“Is your name short for something? I mean no offense, of course, but I’m afraid that Ginny
Malfoy sounds terribly undignified.”



Good that her name matched her actions, then. Apt, even.



“Mother,” Draco said in a slightly pleading tone. “Please.”



“It’s Ginevra,” said Ginny, as pertly as she could. She feared that it was more of a growl,
however.



“That’s mildly better,” Narcissa said.



Ginny pushed at her plate. She was just grateful that she hadn’t yet stuck her elbow in
butter.



“Are you done? You barely touched your food,” said Draco. Ginny scowled at how surprised he
sounded, as though he had expecter her to shovel food down her throat like a starving man at an
all-you-can-eat buffet.



“I’m done,” she said. She stared down at the plate, willing her stomach not to growl. The food
was sumptuous, and if her fork wasn’t in the floor she would be wolfing it down. She wondered idly
if baked carrots could be considered finger food. Raw carrots were, after all. She saw Lucius
watching her carefully and decided not to test the carrot theory.



“One would think that you would be eating better, considering,” Narcissa said.



Ginny tried to will herself to not flush, but was unsuccessful. She was quite aware enough of
her social *faux pas* without having another mother give her disapproving stares. She hadn’t
*intended* for any of this to happen, after all. She cursed her Weasley genes and was further
convinced that somewhere in her distant genealogy was something with floppy ears, a fluffy tail and
a penchant for carrots. It was the only explanation.



“Mother, did you have to bring that up?” Draco said with a sigh. “You’re supposed to be getting
to know Ginny, not insult her.”



“Well, all she’s done is look like a terrified rabbit,” Narcissa said. “She’s probably planning
to bolt into a burrow as soon as possible.”



Damn, how had Narcissa been able to tell her plan? Ginny wondered. And again with the rabbit
comparison. Perhaps it was common knowledge to everyone except Ginny...



“Yes, for a Gryffindor she is quite cowardly,” Lucius drawled lazily.



Ginny reminded herself that she was going to be related to these people quite soon, and that her
child was going to be related to them, and that she really shouldn’t do something now that she
would regret later. That didn’t stop her from wishing fervently that Lucius would choke on his next
bite.



She wanted to stab at her meat with her fork, but the fork was still lying on the floor near her
foot. She considered taking her knife to it, but thought that might be a bit obvious, considering
that she had no fork to hold the meat down with. Damn that fork to hell! If she just had the fork
then the dinner would be so much more bearable.



“So what are your plans?” Narcissa asked, taking a delicate bite.



Draco opened his mouth, but Narcissa motioned for him to be quiet. “Let the girl talk.”



Three sets of eyes focused on Ginny. Instead of gracefully explaining her ambitions, goals and
dreams, she found herself blanching and faintly saying, “Um.”



“Well?” Lucius said.



“To breed and frivol away your family fortune,” she said.



Draco kicked at her ankle under the table. She glared and hissed, “Well, what the hell am I
supposed to say?”



“Something that wasn’t *that*,” Draco hissed back. Ginny had a feeling that Lucius and
Narcissa were highly amused, and she didn’t care. She glared at them, and said clearly, “This is
the most uncomfortable dinner I’ve sat through in my entire life.”



“Really?” Narcissa asked.



“Absolutely,” Ginny replied. She was impressed that she hadn’t cussed yet.



“Do you not find our company pleasant?” Lucius asked.



“Yours? Not in the least,” Ginny said, “since you managed to traumatize me during my first
year.”



“Ginny,” sighed Draco. “ I knew this was a bad idea.”



“You did not,” she replied, eyes narrowed. “I told you that and you said it would be fine!”



“You knew perfectly well I was lying!” replied Draco. “But this has at least been a lot more
pleasant than dinner at *your* house.”



“How did that go, dear?” Narcissa asked.



“Terribly,” said Draco.



“Fine,” replied Ginny. Draco glared at her. “It did so go fine! You left with all extremities
intact, didn’t you?”



“That is no basis for saying it went fine,” Draco snapped.



“You’d agree that it was if you’d been the one to have to convince all six brothers, Harry
*and* my parents that you were a semi-decent person!”



“I can see how that would be difficult,” said Narcissa. Lucius was almost grinning.



“Charlie wanted to feed you to a *dragon*,” Ginny continued.



“That’s almost impossible to get away with in England,” offered Lucius helpfully.



“He works in Romania, and their laws are a lot more lax on the subject,” Ginny explained. “He
could have gotten away with it, probably.”



Draco glared. “I was *green*. For the entire meal, I was *green*!”



“Everyone knows not to eat *anything* from the twins! You’re lucky you weren’t striped,”
Ginny shot back.



“And what about at the end?” Draco asked snidely.



“I know that was uncalled for, but really you got off easy. I’m the baby of the family, after
all, and they’re all quite protective of me,” Ginny replied.



“What happened?” Lucius asked, his eager posture belying his calm tone.



“Don’t,” said Draco.



“It was pretty funny,” Ginny said.



“No, it wasn’t,” Draco said. He turned to his parents. “It really is a boring story that you
don’t want to hear.”



“They tarred and feathered him,” Ginny offered.



Ginny was quite shocked to find that Malfoys could, indeed, snort. Draco glared at his father,
Narcissa hid her smile in her wineglass and Ginny resisted the impossible, childish urge to stick
her tongue out at someone.



“They... tarred and feathered him?” Narcissa asked Ginny mildly.



Ginny nodded. “It was Ron, Fred and George, mostly. Mum was quite angry with them.”



“She likes Draco?” Lucius said skeptically.



“No, they did it in the kitchen. It made a terrible mess. There were feathers everywhere.
Though,” Ginny said, “You should have seen Draco! He looked like a molting chicken!”



“So how, exactly, has this dinner been worse than *that*?” Narcissa asked.



“Well, *I* wasn’t green or tarred and feathered,” Ginny said, “and I’m quite comfortable in
my own home, so it was fine.”



Narcissa smiled as the food vanished from their plates. It was nearly time for dessert, and
Ginny was grateful. She was mostly just happy that no one had asked how she and Draco had actually
met yet, because they hadn’t managed to come up with a decent cover story yet.



The circumstances of their first meeting outside of school and the resulting conception weren’t
fit for parents or family to hear. Ginny hadn’t even been able to tell her friends the entire
truth. She had mumbled something about a party and alcohol, and so far no one had questioned her
further. It was lucky that Draco was so damn cute, because it gave her position more credence.



The truth was that she had laid eyes on Draco Malfoy for the first time in six years immediately
after leaping out of a giant cake, wearing gold tassels on her breasts and shaking her body for all
that it was worth.



She was, by no means, a professional at jumping out of cakes. In fact, she had only done it once
in her entire life, after plenty of pleading, begging and finally drugging at the hands of her
so-called friends. She worked at a caterer’s, and they had been laughing and joking over the giant
cake and its naughty contents all day when her boss rushed in, announcing that the cake girl had
Splinched herself.



“The poor boys will be so disappointed!” Ginny had snickered.



Her boss’s glare had focused on her. “We *cannot* lose this customer’s business! It is
imperative that a girl jump out of that cake!”



Ginny had glanced around, noticing for the first time that the majority of her coworkers were
male. She then noticed that she was the daintiest of the females, and finally that most of her
coworkers were watching her. “Isn’t there a place that supplies cake girls?” she asked.



“Not at this short notice,” her boss replied. He shoved a small bag in her direction. “Here’s
your costume.”



“What? I’m not doing it!” she’d protested. Her coworkers had talked to her, and offered her a
calming cup of tea. She had sipped at it, listened to their arguments and finally found herself
agreeing to jump out of the cake.



An hour later, she popped out of the cake, tassels twirling. She danced enthusiastically,
wildly, and often very near the chair of the handsome blond Malfoy heir. She realized, in the back
of her mind, that she seemed to be quite intoxicated, but didn’t really care. She also wondered why
she hadn’t realized what a fox Malfoy was when she’d been back at Hogwarts.



She found herself sitting on the arm of his chair while he played with the gold tassel on her
left breast.



“You have icing on your ear,” he slurred.



“Damn,” she said. He pulled her closer, and licked at her ear. She giggled.



“You know,” he said, “I hate gold. It’s very tacky.”



She looked down at her gold tassels, the shiny gold bikini bottom and strappy gold heels that
were all that covered her body. “Really,” she said.



“Yeah,” he replied.



“You should do something about that, then,” she said. He grinned and tugged harder on her
tassel. “Not in here!” she shrieked, glancing around the room that was still filled with drunken
former Slytherins.



So they staggered together to the fireplace, and in a flash Ginny found herself in Draco’s
bedroom, devoid of her tassels, downing a contraceptive potion and sprawling out on his big, comfy,
forest green bed.



Eight hours later, she blearily opened her eyes and nearly screamed.



Draco Malfoy likewise opened his eyes, awakened by the squeak from the girl in his bed.



“Hi,” he said.



“I have a Galleon in a very uncomfortable place,” she said.



He blinked. “Did I pay you?”



She smacked him. “No, you dumbass. Someone stuck it down this.” She tugged the scrap of gold
that was the majority of her previous night’s outfit out from under the blanket and shoved it under
his nose.



“Oh, yeah,” he said. “You came out of a cake.”



“I did,” she said. “I think I have to murder my coworkers, as soon as I find out what they used
on me to get me to do that.”



“Have fun with that,” he said. She shifted, and he caught a glimpse of what was next to him
under the blanket.



“I should probably go,” she said. “Or, rather, I would go if I had clothes.”



“Why hide something like that?” he’d said before reminding himself that he wasn’t drunk and she
was very Weasley.



She flushed, and threw the Galleon at him. It hit him on the forehead, leaving a welt. Then she
flounced across the room, forcing herself to ignore the fact that she was very naked and doubly
forcing herself to stop noticing how nice Draco’s naked form looked, and found a robe in his
closet.



With that, she left.



She cornered her coworkers later that day and found out what they had put in her tea. It was an
inhibition-lowering draught which included some ingredients that uncomfortably triggered some of
her Potions knowledge.



Later, she realized it was because the main ingredient nullified the main ingredient in most
contraceptive potions.



Later that week, Draco knocked on the door to her flat. She was shocked to see him, but couldn’t
help the giggle that escaped when he silently held out her cake costume and the galleon she had
thrown at him. She had realized that she might not be adverse to spending more time with him, and
he had apparently come to the same conclusion.



A few weeks later, when her pregnancy fears had been confirmed, she told him the whole story. He
handled it quite well, and the landslide towards achieving propriety began when he offered her an
ornate engagement ring, which led them towards the dreaded meeting of parents, and ultimately,
dessert.



In the Malfoy Manor dining room, an Italian Creme cake appeared in the center of the table, and
neat slices levitated themselves onto each plate. Ginny stared down at the cake, slightly
horrified.



“So,” Narcissa said, taking a bite. “How exactly did you two meet?”



Ginny choked on her sip of water. She could feel her face turning a violent shade of red, and
she sputtered, holding her hand over her mouth. She put her glass down quickly and fled the room,
muttering about feeling ill.



She paused outside the dining room, leaning against the wall and listening shamelessly to what
Draco would say.



“We met at a get-together through mutual friends,” Draco said smoothly.



Could cake be considered a mutual friend? Ginny wondered. Because she definitely had not been
friends with anyone at that party.



“How long ago was this?” Lucius asked.



Don’t tell them it was three months ago, Ginny mentally pleaded. She wasn’t sure she could stand
the shame of having his parents know that not only had she gotten pregnant the first time they’d
slept together, but that she’d shagged him immediately upon meeting him. There was no way she could
get through the rest of dessert with cake on th table and the word ‘whore’ underlying her future
in-law’s every comment.



“Quite a while ago,” Draco said.



There was an uncomfortable silence in the dining room. Ginny realized she’d been gone for a
while, and steadied her nerves for more scrutiny. With a final deep breath, she bravely stepped
back into the room.



“I’m sorry, I was ill,” she said with a weak smile.



“That’s quite understandable in your condition,” Narcissa said.



Was this ever going to get less embarrassing? She walked back towards her seat, accidently
stepping on the fork.



“Goddamn bastard fork!” she yelped, receiving odd looks from her hosts.



“I think it’s time to go,” Draco said carefully. He paused. “Now.”



“Well, it’s been interesting having you,” Narcissa said.



Lucius was scraping some icing off his plate with his fork, and eyeing the rest of the cake.
Narcissa snapped, “No more cake for you. Say something to your son.”



Lucius asked, “Want to take some cake with you?”



“No,” said Draco and Ginny simultaneously. She shot her fiancé a nervous glance. They were
acting suspiciously, but how could they avoid it when the cake in the center of the table seemed to
be leering at them, taunting them with their hopefully well-hidden secret.



“You know,” Narcissa said, “I heard the ugliest rumor at yesterday’s St. Mungo’s benefit brunch.
Apparently, Amelia Bones’s niece has been making a living jumping out of giant cakes! Could you
imagine? I wouldn’t show my face in public if something like *that* was hanging over my
head.”



Ginny was fairly certain she turned white. “That’s... appalling,” she managed.



Draco looked intrigued. “Really? Is that Susan? Because she had a great--”



He was cut off as Ginny smacked him.”Draco!” she snapped indignantly.



“What? I was going to say that she had a great... future ahead of her before she debauched
herself like that. It’s a shame,” Draco said.



“Nice one, son,” Lucius said.



“We should just be leaving,” Ginny said, standing. Draco quickly stood, and said, “It was a
lovely meal, Mother.”



“It was nice to meet you,” Ginny lied.



"We'll have to do it again soon," Narcissa said with the most fake smile Ginny had
ever seen outside of a toothpaste ad.



As they walked out the dining room, Ginny could hear Lucius and Narcissa’s raised whispers.



“I wonder if we'll ever see our son again, let alone our grandchild after this."



“Don't worry dear, we'll lure them back with cake. You know how Draco’s always been a
sucker for icing."



Ginny flushed. She couldn’t get out of Malfoy Manor fast enough.



“You *so* owe me for this,” Ginny snapped as soon as they were back to Draco’s flat. He was
standing in one corner of the bedroom, measuring with his arms and muttering to himself. “I never
ever want to do that again. Never. Do you hear me?”



“Mm-hmm,” Draco said. He grabbed his broomstick, held it vertically and experimentally swung
around it once.



“What are you doing?” Ginny asked.



“Deciding where to put the pole,” Draco replied.



“The pole?”



“Well,” he said, pulling something shiny and golden out of his pocket. “We have to put these
tassels to use *somehow*.”




The End.












