Rabble rabble drabble

[adelagia]

A few months ago I banged out what was supposed to be a sequel to Conflict Resolution. Nine and a half chapters later, I sent it to xalexandriam, who very kindly betaed it for me, after which I decided I hated the whole thing and abandoned it. (Thankfully she was super cool about it and did not throttle me for making her do all that work for nothing.) Anyway, it's not going to see the light of day, but I thought one scene could be salvaged for a drabble, so here it is. 

***

It wouldn’t be fair to say Ginny dreaded visiting The Burrow; she rather liked spending time with her family, actually. She did, however, usually go in with a very healthy amount of wariness ever since her mum had gotten the brilliant idea to play matchmaker for her youngest. And despite her schemes having yet to come to fruition, Molly wasn't anywhere close to giving it up as a bad job.

Ginny knew her mum had her best interests at heart, really, but it was translating those interests into action that caused the troublesome bits. It hadn't been bad enough that Harry had dumped her, quite nearly literally, years ago to run off with his friends on a Horcrux hunt, but now that he'd apparently decided he'd seen the error of his ways, Molly had roped herself into helping him fulfill his mission.

And it was a lucky break for Harry, too, that Molly had started in on the whole thing, otherwise Ginny would have never guessed that he was interested again. He had never been very good at expressing his feelings properly.

Today would be no different, Ginny suspected. Of late she had been trying to pop in with as little advance notice as could still be considered polite so her mother wouldn't have time to notify Harry and get him over there at the same time, but the woman seemed undeterred.

Ginny popped into view in The Burrow's fireplace, sneezing as a bit of ash got up her nose.

"Which one of you is it?" Molly's voice floated in from the kitchen.

"The one you like best," Ginny called back, making her way through the living room. She dropped her robes and bag into a kitchen chair.

"Better not let your brothers hear you say that. Hi, sweetheart," Molly said cheerfully, turning halfway away from the sink so Ginny could buss her on the cheek.

"Hiya, Mum. Need any help?"

"I suppose you can earn your keep tonight; those potatoes need peeling."

"Right-o," Ginny said, and set to work.

"Is work keeping you very busy, dear? Your father says he hasn't seen you at the Ministry for ages."

"Yeah, it's been a bit of a madhouse lately. I'm on a new case now, but we're having a hard time getting anywhere, and it's driving both of us a bit crazy," she said, and then bit her lip. She hadn't meant to bring up her partner. However, since it was done, she might as well put the other foot in her mouth. "I'm partnered up with Draco Malfoy again," she said casually, and waited to gauge her mother's reaction. Not that she was expecting anything much better than contempt, but a girl could hope, couldn't she? Plus, there was always the chance that one day, pigs would sprout wings and cruise merrily about in Hell's winter wonderland.

"Hmph," said Molly. "He's treating you right, I hope." Her tone suggested she was also envisioning Satan enjoying a sledge ride.

"Erm, quite well, actually."

Molly whirled around, carrot and peeler in mid-air, a strip of bright orange falling to the ground. "Really?"

"Yeah, he's... not awful," Ginny said. "Erm, very professional and good at his job. Remember when we worked on a case together last time, a few months ago?"

"Yes..." Molly said suspiciously.

"Well, er, we... learned to get along better," Ginny said stiltedly.

She eyed Ginny carefully. "You haven't been Imperiused, have you?"

Ginny tried not to give her mother a totally withering look. "Mum, if Draco Malfoy Imperiused me, do you really think I'd be sitting here peeling vegetables with you?"

"Well, I don't know how he thinks. This could all be a part of some grand scheme."

"He's an Auror, Mum. He's really kept far too busy to be plotting anything."

"Yes, frankly, I'm surprised the Ministry let him join the MLE."

"It's because he's a really good Auror."

Molly narrowed her eyes. "Look at you go on."

"I'm not Imperiused."

"Well, you'd say that, wouldn't you?"

"This is a ridiculous conversation."

"Just wait 'til your father gets home."

"What?"

"He can check whether you're under somebody else's command or not."

"Oh, for --" Ginny clamped her mouth shut so she wouldn't get in trouble for swearing, and instead took to her potatoes with extra force.

Speaking as though she hadn't just accused her daughter of succumbing to an Unforgivable, Molly clucked her tongue as she looked out the window into the garden. "We're overrun with gnomes this year; I'll have to get one of your brothers to toss them for me soon. Ron has a day off coming up. Maybe he can pop over for a while. You know how my back bothers me these days; I can't spend so much time in the garden anymore. Remind me to owl him later."

Ginny made a vague noise to show she was paying attention to her mum's chatter, and was relieved to hear someone arriving in the Floo just then.

"Hello?" Molly's voice rang out.

"It's only me, dear." Shortly, Arthur appeared in the kitchen. "Oh, hi there, Ginny."

"Hi, Dad."

"Long day at work, Arthur?" Molly asked, and without waiting for a response, continued, "The upstairs toilet's a bit leaky; the repair charm's wearing off, I think. Either that or the ghoul's gotten bored and is tinkering about again. Mind taking a look at it later? Oh, and can you check whether Ginny's been Imperiused?"

Arthur's eyebrows shot upwards, while Ginny shook her head to indicate that no, she hadn't been, and that Molly was crazy.

"Er, all right, dear," said Arthur, shrugging at Ginny. Patting about his pockets for his wand, he found it at the back of his trousers, and half-heartedly uttered the spell. As it turned up negative, he shoved his wand back in his pocket. "Nope, our little girl's just fine and dandy."

"Thank you," Ginny said firmly. "See?"

"Well, better safe than sorry, anyway," Molly said, sticking a pan of chicken in the oven. "You should have heard her, Arthur, singing Draco Malfoy's praises to the high heavens. Can you blame me for thinking there was something wrong with her?"

"I was just saying that he's good at his job," Ginny said doggedly. "You work at the Ministry, too, Dad; surely you've heard? I mean, he was nominated last year for an exemplary service award."

"Mm," said Arthur noncommittally. He knew better than to get caught in the middle.

"Your daughter's gotten partnered up with him again," Molly said sourly, as though it was Ginny's fault that they had been assigned to the same case.

"Oh," said Arthur, careful to keep any unnecessary inflection out of his voice, lest it be construed as taking anyone's side.

Brushing her hands off on her apron, Molly turned to Ginny and said suddenly, "You've been spending too much time at work, that's why. I do wish you had the time to actually meet a nice, handsome, intelligent young man, instead of going on about Draco Malfoy."

Ginny briefly thought about bringing up the fact that Draco was two of those things, but it would probably start the Imperius debate all over again, so she kept her mouth shut.

"What's more, dearie, you have true love staring you in the face, and you won't even give it a chance to blossom," Molly said. "Hand me that spoon, will you?"

Ginny levitated a wooden spoon in her mother's direction. "What are you talking about?"

"Harry, of course. What else could I mean?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, that ship sailed and sank a long time ago."

"Nonsense; you're both still young, and unattached. I don't see why you couldn't try to make it work again. Why, when I think of how you used to look at him --"

"The operative term being 'used to', Mum. I haven't felt that way about Harry in a long time, and I really, really wish you'd stop trying to push us together."

"I just want what's best for you," she sniffed.

"I know, Mum," Ginny said, relenting a little. "But Harry's not right for me, nor am I right for him. We'd just be horribly unhappy."

"How would you know? You've never tried!"

"What do you think my fifth year was all about?"

"Well, you were just children then."

Ginny pounced on her opening. "Yes, and as a grown-up now, I'm perfectly capable of deciding that Harry and I don't need to make another go of it. Besides, being young never stopped Ron and Hermione from realising they were meant for each other." She almost added a "so there" but Molly still had her wooden spoon in hand, and a bit of cheek would very likely land her a smack on the arm.

"Tsk. You just don't know a good thing when you see it," Molly said, shaking her head. She passed her spoon to Ginny. "Here, watch that pot for a while. It's going to need some stirring soon."

Ginny peered into the pot as her mum bustled out of the kitchen and turned on the radio in the living room. She glanced at her father, who was blowing on a cup of tea at the kitchen table. "She's gone to Floo Harry to come over for dinner, hasn't she?"

"Mm, most certainly," said Arthur, and took a sip of tea.