REPOST : The Weasel and the Malfoy, part four - Harry Potterverse - Draco/Ginny
Title: The Weasel and the Malfoy, part four
Rating: NC-17
Setting: In the future.
Characters: Draco, Ginny, Ron, Narcissa
Disclaimer: All the characters and places belong to JKRowling. There might be a minor character or two that I might possibly own.
Summary: Nobody expects the Forensic Aurors! Their chief weapons are…. wait, wrong crossover.
Part four - Misspelling
~ + ~
Even from the other side of the room, Draco could see Ron’s eyes bulge out at his note. He sighed almost happily - the best thing to do with misery was to share it after all. He’d be vaguely interested in what conclusion the clumsy ox came up with, but it was most definitely not a good conversation to have at this point.
Ginny and his mother came back into the room, while he was watching Ron splutter, turn pale and glare at the same time. The two of them looked particularly friendly towards each other, thought Draco warily. They had gone into the toilets just to get their stories straight hadn’t they? Surely they wouldn’t have spent that valuable time discussing other things, would they?
Their gazes fell on him, and Ginny giggled. His mother, on the other hand, looked almost caught between pride and surprise, and there was a definite reconsidering look in her eyes now. Merlin! He was 20 after all - quite grown up now! Ginny giggled again, and Draco caught a glimpse of what looked like a small photograph being placed back into his mother’s handbag. Oh hell… not the naked baby photographs again.
Something snapped inside him, and he strode across the room to Ron Weasley. “Listen, Weasley,” he snapped, “I wasn’t on this particular raid, so you’re just going to have to show me where the damn bogs are.”
Ron rolled his eyes at this, but nodded. “Fine,” he snapped back in return, “This way, Ferret-boy”. Exiting the room through the opposite passage to that which the women had just re-entered from, Draco looked back at the women that he was sure were plotting to turn his life upside down. It was precisely to avoid complications like this that he’d never taken any of his previous bed-partners back to Malfoy Manor.
~ + ~
Ginny stared after Draco as he left the room in a hurry, thought of the photograph of a naked 3 year old Draco, covered in chocolate and riding the back of a house elf, and promptly collapsed in giggles once more.
The door to the outside banged open and a troop of Forensic Aurors burst in, led by someone very familiar to Ginny. “Neville!” she squealed, and threw herself at him. Neville eventually disentangled himself from her, and looked around almost desperately for Dumbledore.
“Ah…Good morning, sir?” he ventured. “Do you want us to get on with the tracer spell at once, Minister?”
Dumbledore nodded, and stood up from his chair. “Time is of the essence here, Neville. These remnants of the Death Eaters must be located as soon as is practical.” He frowned and looked around the table again. “However, I fear I seem to have lost my glasses at the moment.”
Ginny quickly moved forward, bent down beside the table and came up carrying a pair of glasses. “Are these them, Minister?” she inquired innocently.
“Ah, thank you my dear,” said Dumbledore happily putting them back on his face. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, let us try this new tracing spell of Neville’s, shall we?” As all present trooped up the narrow stairs again, Narcissa cast an imploring look at Ginny. This was not looking good.
Getting to the uppermost floor, all six people managed to squeeze into one of the bedrooms so rumpled and untidy from the night before. Quickly setting up a protective barrier at the door frame, the other two Forensic Aurors started helping Neville set up his ingredients for the main spell.
Kneeling beside him, Ginny smiled at Neville who only got even more flustered. “Tell you what, Neville,” she whispered throatily into his ear, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll pull it out for you”.
Neville distinctly and clearly lost his concentration at this. “Which ingredients do you need, Neville?” she asked, taking the bag of supplies away from his unresisting hands.
“Um..er.. the powered Hagwood?” asked Neville uncertainly. Mentally crossing her fingers, Ginny smiled her most charming and dazzling smile, and gave Neville the pot of chopped wormwort.
“That’s it!” snapped one of the other Aurors. “Quick, everyone behind the barrier!”
“Do not worry, Narcissa,” soothed Dumbledore watching the preparations. “This spell will locate the people who have been within this room 6 hours ago, and home in on them wherever they are.”
From where she was crowded up against Neville and the other Aurors in the protective circle, Ginny thought she might have been the only one to catch the muttered “That’s the theory.”
Dumbledore continued “We shall be quite safe here behind this barrier spell. It won’t affect us at all.” Maybe not us, thought Ginny frantically, but what about Draco and Ron?
~ + ~
One short and bitter exchange in the toilet later, debating the type of person who would sleep with their partner or charge, let alone the other chap’s mother or sister, had left Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley disliking each other more than before if that was possible. On the plus side, one thing they had agreed on. They were never ever going to mention this to another soul anyway, but they had settled on the gay sex cover story if anyone ever really, really pressed them.
Exiting the toilets, Draco went to hold the door open for Ron, but deliberately let it go a touch too soon, and was amused to see the great oaf have to step back quickly to avoid being hit in the face. Turning his back on the weasel, he strode off down the corridor. Then paused, feeling oddly unwell. His stomach was jumping, churning. As if he wanted to be sick pretty soon.
The bloody weasel had hexed him! Spinning around, he was surprised to see Ron also leaning against one wall of the corridor, looking as ill as he felt. A fresh wave of sickness hit him, and Draco Malfoy, pureblood extraordinare and a man who was always poised and dapper, made a very undignified dash back to the toilets.
~ + ~
In the bedroom, Neville gulped audibly. “Something’s not right! The energy shouldn’t be doing that at all!”
The magical energy cascading and arcing around the room drew itself together in the middle of the room, floating in mid air and flashing rapidly. Suddenly, it turned a great blinding white, flashed brightly and exploded outwards with a loud cracking noise.
Suddenly it was all peaceful and quiet in the room. Broken by Narcissa Malfoy politely enquiring “Was that last part meant to happen?”
~ + ~
And in the male toilets, Draco looked up from where he’d been bent over the sinks trying desperately not to throw up. Whatever that wave of nausea had been caused by, it was finally passing, thank Merlin. He looked into the mirror over the sinks and saw his bloodshot eyes, and the damp tangled red hair hanging down the sides.
Wait.
Red hair?
He swore loudly and threw himself back from the sinks. Staring in utter disgust and disbelief at the reflection, he turned his head to the side and found himself staring straight down the barrel of a very familiar looking snooty nose. As if that wasn’t enough of a clue, the short cropped blonde hair and excellently tailored robes gave it away.
Somehow, he and Ron Weasley had switched bodies.
easy chapter navigation
<<< [04] >>>
Rating: NC-17
Setting: In the future.
Characters: Draco, Ginny, Ron, Narcissa
Disclaimer: All the characters and places belong to JKRowling. There might be a minor character or two that I might possibly own.
Summary: Nobody expects the Forensic Aurors! Their chief weapons are…. wait, wrong crossover.
Part four - Misspelling
~ + ~
Even from the other side of the room, Draco could see Ron’s eyes bulge out at his note. He sighed almost happily - the best thing to do with misery was to share it after all. He’d be vaguely interested in what conclusion the clumsy ox came up with, but it was most definitely not a good conversation to have at this point.
Ginny and his mother came back into the room, while he was watching Ron splutter, turn pale and glare at the same time. The two of them looked particularly friendly towards each other, thought Draco warily. They had gone into the toilets just to get their stories straight hadn’t they? Surely they wouldn’t have spent that valuable time discussing other things, would they?
Their gazes fell on him, and Ginny giggled. His mother, on the other hand, looked almost caught between pride and surprise, and there was a definite reconsidering look in her eyes now. Merlin! He was 20 after all - quite grown up now! Ginny giggled again, and Draco caught a glimpse of what looked like a small photograph being placed back into his mother’s handbag. Oh hell… not the naked baby photographs again.
Something snapped inside him, and he strode across the room to Ron Weasley. “Listen, Weasley,” he snapped, “I wasn’t on this particular raid, so you’re just going to have to show me where the damn bogs are.”
Ron rolled his eyes at this, but nodded. “Fine,” he snapped back in return, “This way, Ferret-boy”. Exiting the room through the opposite passage to that which the women had just re-entered from, Draco looked back at the women that he was sure were plotting to turn his life upside down. It was precisely to avoid complications like this that he’d never taken any of his previous bed-partners back to Malfoy Manor.
~ + ~
Ginny stared after Draco as he left the room in a hurry, thought of the photograph of a naked 3 year old Draco, covered in chocolate and riding the back of a house elf, and promptly collapsed in giggles once more.
The door to the outside banged open and a troop of Forensic Aurors burst in, led by someone very familiar to Ginny. “Neville!” she squealed, and threw herself at him. Neville eventually disentangled himself from her, and looked around almost desperately for Dumbledore.
“Ah…Good morning, sir?” he ventured. “Do you want us to get on with the tracer spell at once, Minister?”
Dumbledore nodded, and stood up from his chair. “Time is of the essence here, Neville. These remnants of the Death Eaters must be located as soon as is practical.” He frowned and looked around the table again. “However, I fear I seem to have lost my glasses at the moment.”
Ginny quickly moved forward, bent down beside the table and came up carrying a pair of glasses. “Are these them, Minister?” she inquired innocently.
“Ah, thank you my dear,” said Dumbledore happily putting them back on his face. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, let us try this new tracing spell of Neville’s, shall we?” As all present trooped up the narrow stairs again, Narcissa cast an imploring look at Ginny. This was not looking good.
Getting to the uppermost floor, all six people managed to squeeze into one of the bedrooms so rumpled and untidy from the night before. Quickly setting up a protective barrier at the door frame, the other two Forensic Aurors started helping Neville set up his ingredients for the main spell.
Kneeling beside him, Ginny smiled at Neville who only got even more flustered. “Tell you what, Neville,” she whispered throatily into his ear, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll pull it out for you”.
Neville distinctly and clearly lost his concentration at this. “Which ingredients do you need, Neville?” she asked, taking the bag of supplies away from his unresisting hands.
“Um..er.. the powered Hagwood?” asked Neville uncertainly. Mentally crossing her fingers, Ginny smiled her most charming and dazzling smile, and gave Neville the pot of chopped wormwort.
“That’s it!” snapped one of the other Aurors. “Quick, everyone behind the barrier!”
“Do not worry, Narcissa,” soothed Dumbledore watching the preparations. “This spell will locate the people who have been within this room 6 hours ago, and home in on them wherever they are.”
From where she was crowded up against Neville and the other Aurors in the protective circle, Ginny thought she might have been the only one to catch the muttered “That’s the theory.”
Dumbledore continued “We shall be quite safe here behind this barrier spell. It won’t affect us at all.” Maybe not us, thought Ginny frantically, but what about Draco and Ron?
~ + ~
One short and bitter exchange in the toilet later, debating the type of person who would sleep with their partner or charge, let alone the other chap’s mother or sister, had left Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley disliking each other more than before if that was possible. On the plus side, one thing they had agreed on. They were never ever going to mention this to another soul anyway, but they had settled on the gay sex cover story if anyone ever really, really pressed them.
Exiting the toilets, Draco went to hold the door open for Ron, but deliberately let it go a touch too soon, and was amused to see the great oaf have to step back quickly to avoid being hit in the face. Turning his back on the weasel, he strode off down the corridor. Then paused, feeling oddly unwell. His stomach was jumping, churning. As if he wanted to be sick pretty soon.
The bloody weasel had hexed him! Spinning around, he was surprised to see Ron also leaning against one wall of the corridor, looking as ill as he felt. A fresh wave of sickness hit him, and Draco Malfoy, pureblood extraordinare and a man who was always poised and dapper, made a very undignified dash back to the toilets.
~ + ~
In the bedroom, Neville gulped audibly. “Something’s not right! The energy shouldn’t be doing that at all!”
The magical energy cascading and arcing around the room drew itself together in the middle of the room, floating in mid air and flashing rapidly. Suddenly, it turned a great blinding white, flashed brightly and exploded outwards with a loud cracking noise.
Suddenly it was all peaceful and quiet in the room. Broken by Narcissa Malfoy politely enquiring “Was that last part meant to happen?”
~ + ~
And in the male toilets, Draco looked up from where he’d been bent over the sinks trying desperately not to throw up. Whatever that wave of nausea had been caused by, it was finally passing, thank Merlin. He looked into the mirror over the sinks and saw his bloodshot eyes, and the damp tangled red hair hanging down the sides.
Wait.
Red hair?
He swore loudly and threw himself back from the sinks. Staring in utter disgust and disbelief at the reflection, he turned his head to the side and found himself staring straight down the barrel of a very familiar looking snooty nose. As if that wasn’t enough of a clue, the short cropped blonde hair and excellently tailored robes gave it away.
Somehow, he and Ron Weasley had switched bodies.
easy chapter navigation
<<< [04] >>>