Draco Malfoy swept into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes like a dark avenger.
His eyes blazed with righteous anger and his robes billowed out behind him. At least, that is how he planned to portray it in his memoirs since the truth was much less flattering. In reality, Draco had stumbled out of the floo at the twins' shop, lost his balance, and staggered into a grubby little girl, who not only smeared
Merlin-knows-what on his designer robes, but also began to scream for her mother.
"Oi, Malfoy," George Weasley barked
from the behind the counter, "stop harassing my customers or I'll have to toss you out."
Malfoy glared at the tall red-head.
Although he wasn't the man Draco's hands were itching to strangle, he did look much too similar to cad for the former Slytherin's comfort.
"Weasley," Draco demanded,
hobbling up toward the front of the store. "Where is your no-good, idiot of a brother?"
"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that," George grinned. "Some people might argue that I have five no-good, idiot brothers."
Draco's eyes narrowed because he recognized the twinkle in George's eyes. The git clearly knew exactly what was going on and planned on making the most of this opportunity to torture Draco. George had
apparently forgotten that Draco had been tortured by the best, and if Voldemort hadn't broken him, no joke shop proprietor was going to do it. "I want to talk to your brother who is the ugly backstabber, with a
cocksucker as a twin," Draco growled.
"Malfoy, that hurts," George
complained, much more offended by the aspersion cast on his looks than
the comment about his sexual
orientation. "I'll have you know that Fred and I were runner's up in Witch Weekly's Best Looking Wizards of 2004 edition."
"Oh yes, I remember. That was the year the blind troll from Serbia was editor. Didn't you get beaten out by Longbottom?" Draco sneered.
George held both his hands over his heart as if he had been wounded.
"You seem a little out of sorts today, Malfoy. Perhaps I can interest you in one of our 'Cheering Chocolates'?
They are a brand new product."
"I don't want to purchase any of your
damn chocolates. I want-"
George interrupted him, "A love
potion perhaps? You look like a bloke who is nursing a broken heart from unrequited love."
That was it. Draco lunged. At least, he lunged as much as a man with two bad legs can lunge. He managed to grab a hold of George's lapels. "I am not fucking around," Draco hissed under this breath. "Fred is out of line.
You know it. I know it. Fuck, I'm sure Fred knows it. Just tell me where the hell he is so I can hex the living shit out of him."
George's face sobered. "You have to
cut him some slack, Malfoy. She
asked him. And Merlin knows, he isn't going to refuse her anything.
Although, I wish sometimes..."
As George's voice trailed off, Draco released him. "Where is he?" Draco asked a little less harshly.
Flicking his eyes toward the ceiling, George indicated that Fred was in the flat upstairs.
"Thanks. Can I apparate up there?"
Draco asked. Just the thought of climbing a flight of stairs sent waves of pain shooting along his legs.
"Sure," George replied, his grin
returning. "That is if you don't mind losing your legs again."
0-0-0
As Draco climbed the stairs toward Fred and George's flat, he was dealing with three types of pain.
First, he was feeling pain in his legs.
With the way his week was going, Draco figured he end up permanently crippled by having ignored the
healer's advice to stay off his feet until completely mended. Of course, Granger would be so horrified by his invalid status, that she'd probably tend to his every want and need for the next 130 years. Draco decided
that becoming a cripple would be his fail-safe plan should all his other attempts to reclaim Hermione prove unsuccessful.
Draco's second pain was in his heart.
That organ he had ignored for the first 23 years of his life was now pounding, clenching, and tightening in an effort to warn the wizard of what lay in the future should he bugger this up. There would be no returning to the status quo simplicity of pre-Hermione life. His heart would not put up with any live and let live, fuck and be fucked attitude. Oh no, should he lose Hermione there would be despair, weight-loss, and tears.
Failure was not an option if Draco wanted to avoid having his heart turn him into an emotional basket-case.
As bad as his legs and heart felt, however, it was Draco's third pain -the pain in his mind - that was -the worst. It was the worst because Draco's mind believed in karma. It also believed that karma was a bitch.
Moreover, it believed when bitchy karma caught up to Draco Malfoy it would insure that Hermione ended up married to Fred Weasley. The reason karma was out to get him is because long before Draco was interested in Hermione, long before he desired her, or wanked to her
image, he had known that Fred Weasley was in love with her. Shit, every witch and wizard in the Order, except Hermione, knew that Fred loved her.
Fred had fallen for Hermione soon after Moody had teamed them together during the war. The two Gryffindors had immediately become a brilliant match both on and off the battlefield. On the battlefield they coordinated their hexes, shields, and attacks so efficiently that both of them emerged from the bloodiest battles of the war without a scratch.
This was an accomplishment that neither Moody, nor McGonagall, nor
Harry could claim. Off the battlefield the two colleagues had developed some particularly nasty amulets, potions, and wards that had decimated the Death Eater
population. Fred had been drawn to Hermione's insightful inventions and her single-minded focus on defeating Voldemort. He believed that wartime Hermione was a kindred spirit, in a way that the swot intent on
becoming head girl had not been.
Despite his affection for his bushy-haired partner, Fred had not dated her during the war out of fear of ruining their working relationship.
If Draco had been a stand-up guy, or
a comrade-in-arms, or anything other than an utter bastard, he would have ignored his initial interest in
Hermione and given Fred a chance to win her once the war concluded. But Draco was thoughtless and selfish.
Moreover, he believed that Fred deserved what he got for not acting on his feelings for over two years. As the muggles say, 'You snooze you lose.' Therefore, Draco had pursued, dated, and shagged Hermione
months before Fred even realized that anyone else wanted her. And because Hermione was one of the most loving, faithful, and loyal women in the wizarding world, she had not considered dumping Draco
even after Fred had revealed his feelings. At least she never had considered it until now. Thank you very much, fucking karma.
When Draco reached the top of the stairs, he opened the door to the Weasley twins' flat without bothering to knock. Fred stood before a mirror in the entryway adjusting his robes.
He gave a sly grin at seeing Draco.
"What a pleasant surprise, Malfoy.
I'm afraid I can't stay to chat,
however, because I have a hot date."
Although Draco had not been sure how he would react upon seeing Fred, once the red-head opened his
mouth there was no longer any doubt in Draco's mind. He dropped his
cane, gave a low growl, and tackled Fred to the ground. He immediately began pummeling the Gryffindor in the ribs and face.
As soon as Fred recovered from his shock at Draco's physical attack, he used his superior weight, height, and experience from wrestling five
brothers, to flip Draco on his stomach and dig a knee into his back to keep him from moving.
"Get off of me, you miserable wanker," Draco snarled.
"Ask nicely," Fred mocked, grinding
his knee even harder into Draco's back.
"I'm going to cut your fucking bits off and then shove them down your throat, you pile of monkey dung."
"Definitely not nice," Fred spat. He then knocked his elbow into the side of the blonde's head hard enough to elicit a muffled gasp of pain.
"It isn't a real date," Draco taunted, from his prone position. "She is just using you to make me jealous." He felt Fred loosen his grip slightly and with a huge effort, Draco bucked the prat off his back and kicked him in the side. Out of breath and his legs
feeling like they were about to come off again, Draco pulled himself into a sitting position and leaned back against the wall.
Across the entryway from him sat Fred, holding his ribs and glaring.
"That is exactly why you are going to lose her, Malfoy. You don't
understand Hermione at all. She wouldn't use anyone, let alone me.
When are you going to figure out she isn't like your wartime conquests?
She's got a conscience, a heart, and desires that will take a lifetime to fulfill. She isn't looking for a short-term fuck. She wants the whole thing - love, marriage, babies - and soon
she's going realize that you won't give it to her. It might hurt her to leave you, but she'll do it rather than settle for the wretched deal you are offering her."
"And that is exactly why you aren't with her, Weasley. You insist on putting her up on a fucking pedestal.
She isn't some porcelain virgin, who needs to be handled with kid-gloves.
You know as well as I do the
destruction and cunning of which she capable. Shit, we have both seen her go after what she wants no matter what or who was in her way," Draco sneered. "But for the sake of
argument, let's pretend you are right
and Hermione's intentions tonight are innocent, are you going to try and convince me that your intentions are innocent too? That you are going out with her tonight just to talk and be a good friend?"
Fred grinned and Draco wanted more than anything to try to bash his face in again. "Of course, this is more than me just being a good friend. I'm going to make the most of my
opportunity. The way I see it, your and Hermione's spat can end in one of three ways," Fred informed the seething blond. "First, Hermione goes out with me tonight. Enjoys herself immensely with someone who
actually cares what she thinks and listens to what she has to say. She discovers what a real man has to offer, leaves you, and immediately becomes mine."
"How is she going to discover what a real man has to offer?" Draco
sneered. "Are you bringing Bill along on your date tonight?"
"The second possibility," Fred
continued, as if Draco hadn't spoken,
"is that you continue fucking things up. Hermione turns to me for comfort and I kiss away all her tears. Then, before you can say, 'Malfoy is a dim-wit', Hermione is agreeing to become
Mrs. Fred Weasley."
Draco's eyes narrowed as he
speculated on the fewest number of pieces Fred could be cut into, yet no longer be recognized as a Weasley.
"Of course the third possibility, while not the one I hope occurs, would be that you come to your senses and realize that Hermione is the best thing that will every happen to you.
You marry her; make her miserable, and then three to five years down the road she is back on my doorstep.
She and I then spend the next 100 or so years raising curly-haired
Weasleys and developing a line of
joke store products that won't offend Hogwart's prefects."
"Your fantasy life is quite amusing, Weasley," Draco scoffed. "But, you forgot to imagine the fourth way this could end."
"And, exactly how is that Malfoy?"
Fred asked, glancing down at his watch. "Make it quick, my date will be here soon."
Draco drew his wand. "It could end with me transfiguring you in a blast-ended skrewt and keeping you
penned up at Malfoy Manor!"
Before he had a chance to cast a
spell, however, Fred had his wand drawn as well. "Just try it ferret-boy.
I've wanted to have a go at you since the war."
A soft pop startled them both and they turned, wands pointing toward the sound. "Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted, and before either of them could respond they had been
disarmed. The witch gave what at any other time would have been a charming smile. "Nice to know I haven't lost my wartime reflexes.
Apparently, the same can't be said about either of you."
While both men were initially
speechless, Draco recovered first.
After all, he had faced the business end of Hermione's wand before.
"Granger," he nodded toward her, grabbing his cane and awkwardly rising to his feet. "Of course your skills are still top-notch; you work as a curse breaker. You can't expect the same speed or reaction from
someone like me, who serves as CEO of the largest corporation in the
wizarding world, or from a mere
cashier like Weasley," Draco sneered, rolling his eyes slightly toward the redhead.
"Speak for yourself, Malfoy," Fred groused, rising from the floor. "I'm
just as fast as I was during the war."
"Of course you are still fast," Draco agreed. "If I'm not mistaken that is why your most recent girlfriend left you. However, Weasley, the proper terminology is 'early ejaculation' when it occurs in the bedroom."
Draco barely managed to get his shield up before Fred's hex was flung at him.
"Fred!" Hermione gasped.
"What?" Fred asked, sincerely surprised that Hermione's had spoken harshly to him. "He started it!"
"'He started it,'" Draco mimicked after taking a step to the right, so that Hermione now served as a convenient barrier between him and Fred. "What are you eight?"
Hermione wheeled around to lecture Draco, but before she could speak, Fred replied, "I'm at least eight times the man you are Malfoy. I can see past my own selfish desires and try to do what's best for the people I love. When is the last time you thought of anybody but yourself?"
Draco ignored the Gryffindor's words and grasped Hermione by the wrist.
"Granger, it is time to end all this
nonsense. Let's not drag Fred any further into our little disagreement."
Hermione cocked her head to the side, "Perhaps, you'd like to share with me exactly what 'nonsense' you are referring to, Draco? Could it be my desire to get married that you find nonsensical? Or perhaps it is nonsense to expect that after two years of dating someone that person might actually want to be in an
exclusive relationship. Personally, I think it is nonsense to threaten your girlfriend's dinner companion after explicitly telling her she was a free agent."
"I never said-"
"Yes. You. Did." Hermione
responded, enunciating each word in an effort to forestall any further discussion.
Unfortunately for her, however, Draco was quite adept at ignoring verbal cues when he so desired. He tightened his hand around her wrist slightly. "Granger, you know damn well I was only discussing the 'concept' of exclusivity. I wasn't giving you permission to go out with this git," Draco drawled, waving his hand in Fred's general direction.
"Permission?" Hermione repeated
astounded. "I haven't asked
permission to do anything since I was sixteen years old. I am not about to start now. And I am definitely not about to start asking you what I can and can't do."
Fred, who by this time had retrieved his wand and straightened his robes, came up behind Hermione and
placed his hand lightly on the small of her back, he smirked at Draco, his eyes dancing with delight at their fight. "We have to get moving if we are going to make our reservation,"
he reminded the bushy-haired girl with a wink.
She grinned up at him, "Great, let's head out." Hermione then looked down at where Draco still held her by the wrist, raised her eyebrows at him, and shook her arm gently to break free.
Rather than release her, however, Draco pulled her closer. Although his body language revealed nothing, Draco was panicking. This was NOT supposed happen. Weasley was supposed to be dead or seriously incapacitated by now. Hermione was supposed to be in Draco's arms, reassuring him that this entire date debacle was just a bluff to force him into a commitment. She was NOT
supposed to be shaking him off so that she could go out to dinner with the man who had desired her for the last four years. Draco knew he
needed to do something immediately if he was going to salvage the
situation and prevent Hermione from leaving the flat with Fred. "I need to talk to you in private," he told her, staring deeply into her dark brown eyes, urging her to give into this one request.
"I don't have much time," she said softly, some emotion he couldn't read passing over her face.
"It won't take long."
She looked up at Fred and he gave her a little nod. "You can use my room. It's down the hall-"
"First door on the right, I remember,"
Hermione finished the sentence for him.
Draco's eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open slightly at her reply.
"What?" she asked. "I helped him decorate when he moved in here, you know that."
Draco nodded curtly, because he really didn't remember her helping Fred decorate, but she most likely was telling the truth. That was one of
the dozen or so things he loved about dating a Gryffindor – they rarely lied and when they did, they typically sucked at it. He opened the door to Fred's room and ushered Hermione inside. Closing the door behind them, he cast a silencing spell and slowly turned around to face her.
She looked lovely. Her hair was gently piled on the top of her head, she wore a dark blue robe over a form-fitting grey muggle dress, and she had put some mascara on to highlight her eyes. Draco felt a stab of anger when he remembered that she had done all this for another wizard.
The Slytherin considered his options.
He could yell at the girl, accuse her of rankest blackmail and dirty
He could yell at the girl, accuse her of rankest blackmail and dirty