The tale of the tail / Chapter Three
author:
zan189
title: The tale of the tail
rated: K (I guess) hm... on second thought, I'd rather make that T (and I refer to fanfiction.net's rating system)
disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters depicted in the story, but I do own the idea to the story.
chapter one chapter two
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3. Stuck with a Malfoy
From that day, he lived with us at the Burrow. There was no way we wanted him, really, but Professor McGonagall asked us to keep him so he would be out of danger, and funny enough, Harry seconded her notion. What he said was that it wasn’t Malfoy who had killed our headmaster, after all and that he had seen him lower his wand already, before Snape and the other Death Eaters arrived at the scene of crime. Also, Malfoy’s warning to Harry when they used me as bait was helpful in that Harry knew I had managed to escape. So we kept him, he stayed with the family Ghoul in the attic, because nobody wanted him in their rooms. Unfortunately, after some time, in which he got used to the ways of my family, and after sulking a lot, he took to sleeping in the hallway in front of my door. When it first happened I stumbled over him in the morning on my way to the bathroom and bruised my left hip by falling on the hard floor. Of course I yelled the living shit out of him. All he did was blink at me, get up and disappear to get dressed. I had truly thought that my wrath was enough to keep him at bay… well, it proves even the best of us sometimes have to eat their words. He continued playing my watchdog. Yes, that was his explanation for sleeping outside my room: ‘making sure nothing happened to me’. Like; I could get bitten by a bug in my well-deserved beauty sleep. We don’t want that now, do we?
So I had a tail that followed me around everywhere. He even waited outside the bathroom when I took a good shit, which was embarrassing at first because I tend to fart rather loudly. But humans get used to many things, and it seemed he wasn’t bothered so I stopped caring, as well.
It wasn’t so very annoying at first, too; for he hadn’t started puppy-dog-eyeing me, yet. Just showing up wherever I was while being his usual sneaky, slimy, blond self. At some point I confronted him about what he did and that’s when he told me how he owed his life to me. Well, one could put it that way; but come on - would you leave somebody behind that is about to be raped, when you might as well help them? Nobody is that heartless, not even Weasley to Malfoy. Also, I didn’t recognise him until we arrived safely at the Burrow; and then it was too late, anyway.
However, when he started ogling me with those round orbs of his, drooling whenever I enjoyed a banana, and sighing deeply as soon as I gave him my Ginny’s-fury-is-upon-you glare, it just drove me crazy! I hate the stupid git; he’s a selfish, spoiled, egotistic little brat with the face of an albino ferret. He thinks he’s worth half the world just because his last name is Malfoy; he is skinny, sneaky, pointy-headed, slithering, slytherin, blathering, and way too pale. And he’s in love with me, or so he claims. Yuck! I just hate the idea of him having dreams about me in a white wedding dress, performing eternal vows to him. Aaarrgh; it makes me sick! And it’s so very bothersome to have somebody you hate smiling at you hopefully whenever you happen to be in a good mood and don’t threaten them away as soon as they approach.
One good thing that came out of Malfoy staying at our house was that he ordered his house elves over to help me and mum. Useful little fellows they are, I could get used to them. They did most of the cooking and gardening and laundering, which left me free to practice Quidditch; unless Malfoy begged me to prepare his all-time-favourite dessert, cheese pie. I know I’m a chef extraordinaire, but doing that for a Malfoy? Nuh uh!
When I refused for the zillionth time, mum would make me do it. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? My own mother forced me to BAKE FOR A MALFOY! She took a liking to him quickly, must be motherly tenderness towards a boy who’s just lost his father, with a raging mother that threatens his life for being a blood traitor, and other traumatic experiences. Same reason she loved Harry. She could just hen over him, and Malfoy, the bootlicking prick, would turn all soft and have tears in his large, grey eyes, and look quite forlorn.
Then dad started talking to him more at the dinner table, and within days they ended up having endless conversations on politics, Voldemort’s plans (well, I admit at least that helped us, who defied him) and dad’s new position at the Ministry of Magic. Slowly, Malfoy conquered the hearts of all my family. Fleur loved him for his handsomeness (she must be blind, but I didn’t expect any less from her, either), Bill for presenting them with two of his house elves; Percy had always got a bill of rights stuck up his arse, so no wonder he kept telling me I should marry Malfoy since he was the perfect match, Fred and George respected him for investing in their joke shop, causing them to flourish even more, and Ron wasn’t home. Charley hated Malfoy when he first visited us from Romania, but on his second stay, shortly before the final battle, he grew extremely fond of him when Malfoy allowed a second Dragon Colony to be settled in the extensive estate Malfoy’s family owned in Ireland.
I wondered all along why his mother did not disown him. Turns out, not trusting her, his father had left everything to Draco upon his death, so Narcissa was really a poor slut amongst Voldemort’s cronies. Unbelievable, the luck he does have! Oh, Lucius Malfoy was killed by some Death Eaters just after Dumbledore’s murder, by the way. Obviously, Voldemort was not pleased at all with the Malfoys.
In the final battle, Malfoy was ‘protecting’ me, too. Meaning that he was constantly in my way, preventing me from coming anywhere near the centre of activity, taking all the curses fired at me - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was set up by my family. They never wanted me to join a fight, being the youngest and all, even though it’s obvious that I can take care of myself. Humph!
After that, even Ron acknowledged Malfoy because he had ‘protected’ me from harm, ‘taking everything himself’, oh the bravery. My last ally gone, I am now the only person in the Weasley family that has got some sense left, and remember: I almost lost it due to ten minutes of excruciating pain. Yes, Malfoy was not able to help me there, because he was already unconscious from all the curses he shielded me from. Nevertheless, he was considered the hero, and since Harry is out of the question, now everybody is eyeing us, hoping I will give in to his wooing (for that is what he has been doing for a while now). But I won’t. I won’t I won’t I won’t!
If it’s the last thing I don’t do - I will never marry Draco Malfoy. Ever!
Which is hard considering the fact that he is wherever I am, so everybody thinks we’re a couple and that makes it difficult for me to meet other guys. Even more annoying - he’s got my whole family’s full support, so we are ‘accidentally’ being locked in the attic, in various broom sheds, cupboards and coal cellars tremendously often, and for long periods of time, too. But there’s no way I’ll ever snog a Malfoy, wherever my family chooses to lock us up.
Funny, too, how my whole family had turned into frantic rhinos when they caught me and Harry (sigh) trying to make out; and now they lock me up with my worst enemy, hoping that I will make out with him…
Now you know how the story begins, how it happened that I’m stuck with Draco Malfoy, and with the blessing of the whole Wizarding World, it seems. To me, only one question remains open:
Why me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
zan189
title: The tale of the tail
rated: K (I guess) hm... on second thought, I'd rather make that T (and I refer to fanfiction.net's rating system)
disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters depicted in the story, but I do own the idea to the story.
chapter one chapter two
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3. Stuck with a Malfoy
From that day, he lived with us at the Burrow. There was no way we wanted him, really, but Professor McGonagall asked us to keep him so he would be out of danger, and funny enough, Harry seconded her notion. What he said was that it wasn’t Malfoy who had killed our headmaster, after all and that he had seen him lower his wand already, before Snape and the other Death Eaters arrived at the scene of crime. Also, Malfoy’s warning to Harry when they used me as bait was helpful in that Harry knew I had managed to escape. So we kept him, he stayed with the family Ghoul in the attic, because nobody wanted him in their rooms. Unfortunately, after some time, in which he got used to the ways of my family, and after sulking a lot, he took to sleeping in the hallway in front of my door. When it first happened I stumbled over him in the morning on my way to the bathroom and bruised my left hip by falling on the hard floor. Of course I yelled the living shit out of him. All he did was blink at me, get up and disappear to get dressed. I had truly thought that my wrath was enough to keep him at bay… well, it proves even the best of us sometimes have to eat their words. He continued playing my watchdog. Yes, that was his explanation for sleeping outside my room: ‘making sure nothing happened to me’. Like; I could get bitten by a bug in my well-deserved beauty sleep. We don’t want that now, do we?
So I had a tail that followed me around everywhere. He even waited outside the bathroom when I took a good shit, which was embarrassing at first because I tend to fart rather loudly. But humans get used to many things, and it seemed he wasn’t bothered so I stopped caring, as well.
It wasn’t so very annoying at first, too; for he hadn’t started puppy-dog-eyeing me, yet. Just showing up wherever I was while being his usual sneaky, slimy, blond self. At some point I confronted him about what he did and that’s when he told me how he owed his life to me. Well, one could put it that way; but come on - would you leave somebody behind that is about to be raped, when you might as well help them? Nobody is that heartless, not even Weasley to Malfoy. Also, I didn’t recognise him until we arrived safely at the Burrow; and then it was too late, anyway.
However, when he started ogling me with those round orbs of his, drooling whenever I enjoyed a banana, and sighing deeply as soon as I gave him my Ginny’s-fury-is-upon-you glare, it just drove me crazy! I hate the stupid git; he’s a selfish, spoiled, egotistic little brat with the face of an albino ferret. He thinks he’s worth half the world just because his last name is Malfoy; he is skinny, sneaky, pointy-headed, slithering, slytherin, blathering, and way too pale. And he’s in love with me, or so he claims. Yuck! I just hate the idea of him having dreams about me in a white wedding dress, performing eternal vows to him. Aaarrgh; it makes me sick! And it’s so very bothersome to have somebody you hate smiling at you hopefully whenever you happen to be in a good mood and don’t threaten them away as soon as they approach.
One good thing that came out of Malfoy staying at our house was that he ordered his house elves over to help me and mum. Useful little fellows they are, I could get used to them. They did most of the cooking and gardening and laundering, which left me free to practice Quidditch; unless Malfoy begged me to prepare his all-time-favourite dessert, cheese pie. I know I’m a chef extraordinaire, but doing that for a Malfoy? Nuh uh!
When I refused for the zillionth time, mum would make me do it. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? My own mother forced me to BAKE FOR A MALFOY! She took a liking to him quickly, must be motherly tenderness towards a boy who’s just lost his father, with a raging mother that threatens his life for being a blood traitor, and other traumatic experiences. Same reason she loved Harry. She could just hen over him, and Malfoy, the bootlicking prick, would turn all soft and have tears in his large, grey eyes, and look quite forlorn.
Then dad started talking to him more at the dinner table, and within days they ended up having endless conversations on politics, Voldemort’s plans (well, I admit at least that helped us, who defied him) and dad’s new position at the Ministry of Magic. Slowly, Malfoy conquered the hearts of all my family. Fleur loved him for his handsomeness (she must be blind, but I didn’t expect any less from her, either), Bill for presenting them with two of his house elves; Percy had always got a bill of rights stuck up his arse, so no wonder he kept telling me I should marry Malfoy since he was the perfect match, Fred and George respected him for investing in their joke shop, causing them to flourish even more, and Ron wasn’t home. Charley hated Malfoy when he first visited us from Romania, but on his second stay, shortly before the final battle, he grew extremely fond of him when Malfoy allowed a second Dragon Colony to be settled in the extensive estate Malfoy’s family owned in Ireland.
I wondered all along why his mother did not disown him. Turns out, not trusting her, his father had left everything to Draco upon his death, so Narcissa was really a poor slut amongst Voldemort’s cronies. Unbelievable, the luck he does have! Oh, Lucius Malfoy was killed by some Death Eaters just after Dumbledore’s murder, by the way. Obviously, Voldemort was not pleased at all with the Malfoys.
In the final battle, Malfoy was ‘protecting’ me, too. Meaning that he was constantly in my way, preventing me from coming anywhere near the centre of activity, taking all the curses fired at me - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was set up by my family. They never wanted me to join a fight, being the youngest and all, even though it’s obvious that I can take care of myself. Humph!
After that, even Ron acknowledged Malfoy because he had ‘protected’ me from harm, ‘taking everything himself’, oh the bravery. My last ally gone, I am now the only person in the Weasley family that has got some sense left, and remember: I almost lost it due to ten minutes of excruciating pain. Yes, Malfoy was not able to help me there, because he was already unconscious from all the curses he shielded me from. Nevertheless, he was considered the hero, and since Harry is out of the question, now everybody is eyeing us, hoping I will give in to his wooing (for that is what he has been doing for a while now). But I won’t. I won’t I won’t I won’t!
If it’s the last thing I don’t do - I will never marry Draco Malfoy. Ever!
Which is hard considering the fact that he is wherever I am, so everybody thinks we’re a couple and that makes it difficult for me to meet other guys. Even more annoying - he’s got my whole family’s full support, so we are ‘accidentally’ being locked in the attic, in various broom sheds, cupboards and coal cellars tremendously often, and for long periods of time, too. But there’s no way I’ll ever snog a Malfoy, wherever my family chooses to lock us up.
Funny, too, how my whole family had turned into frantic rhinos when they caught me and Harry (sigh) trying to make out; and now they lock me up with my worst enemy, hoping that I will make out with him…
Now you know how the story begins, how it happened that I’m stuck with Draco Malfoy, and with the blessing of the whole Wizarding World, it seems. To me, only one question remains open:
Why me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~