Of Dragons and Fellytones

"Every night in my dreams... I see you... I feel you... that is how I know you go on...!" the fellytone sang loudly and shrilly.

Ron frowned. Stupid fellytone. Just when he was settled down with Hermione's letter. He knew, of course, that the fellytone was in fact called a telephone, but Fred and George had named it to be a fellytone after charming it to sing [shriek] the caller's favourite tune. Mrs. Weasley, of course, had been none the wiser, and had been duped to think that it was in fact a very clever Muggle invention.

"Near... far... wherever you are... I believe that my heart will go on..."

Speaking of which... what song was that? Ron was fairly certain that he had never encountered it before on the Witches' Wireless Network, of which Ginny was an avid fan. Hmm. He was certain that it was a Muggle song.

"Someone pick up the damn fellytone!" Fred hollered down the stairs. "It's making one hell of a noise!"

"George!" Mrs. Weasley admonished from the kitchen, her face turning purple with anger. "Where did you pick up such foul language? You haven't been snooping around in Knockturn Alley, have you?"

There was a scramble as both twins tried to pretend that it was the other who had been using such 'foul language'.

"Honestly, mum! It was Fred, not me!"

"No, mum, George is just trying to push the blame! It was him all along!"

"We'll...stay... forever this way... you are safe in my heart and... my heart will go on and on..."

"Will someone please answer it?" Percy's head poked out of his room, and he looked properly ruffled. "I'm trying to work on a report on the importance of maintaining the strict discipline of magical toads. It's very important, you know," he said smugly. "It's rather annoying to have to endure that screeching."

Ron ignored him and squinted in disgust as he listened to the song. Why would anyone like this song, let alone choose it as his or her favourite?

"Far across the distance... and spaces... between us... you have come to show you... go on..."

Ron rolled his eyes. Whatever. Ever so slowly, he slid his legs off the couch, languidly got up, and stretched for a bit. He then carefully set Hermione's letter down on the table, neatly placed a makeshift paperweight on top of it, and strolled leisurely to the fellytone. He picked it up, twirling the cord around his long fingers--

"Hello?" greeted the voice on the other line.

--and nearly dropped it onto the floor.

The voice was smooth, deep and rich. It was slightly scathing, with a touch of aristocratic haughtiness.

It was Draco Malfoy.

*

"Hello?" the voice asked again. It sounded slightly irritated this time.

Yep. Ron thought. Definitely Draco. But why would Draco Malfoy, of all people, be calling The Burrow, of all places? "Draco Malfoy?" Ron knew his voice held a large amount of incredulity, but he couldn't help it.

"Yes. That would be me."

"What do you want?" Ron demanded. They'd become civil towards one another during the past year when Draco had joined forces with The Order, betrayed his father and Voldemort, indirectly saving many innocent lives in the process, but it wasn't as if they'd grown from enemies to best mates.

"I'm actually calling to- uh... that is..." Draco began confidently, but faltered towards the end.

Ron was positively delighted. Draco stuttered! He had to tell Harry. He'd get a kick out of this one! Then he remembered something. "What's your favourite song?"

He could hear Draco sputtering indignantly over the other line. "What's it to you?"

Ron grinned. "Just wondering. By the way, does it happen to be sung by some weird Muggle lady with a whiny voice?"

Ron heard more indignant sputtering. "Celine Dion does NOT have a whiny voice!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. What d'you want?" He was mildly curious as to why Draco Malfoy was calling The Burrow at four-thirty on a Tuesday afternoon. And, hell, he didn't know Draco even had a telephone!

"Are you... alone at home?" Draco questioned tentatively.

Ron lifted his brows, wondering what Draco was getting at. He hadn't tried to insult him even once! "No, 'course not!"

"Oh." There was a pregnant pause. "You're not alone at home," Draco repeated very slowly.

Ron wondered where Draco's snappy witticisms had gone. Had he left them at Hogwarts? He was acting almost like Crabbe and Goyle. A sudden, horrible thought flitted into his mind. Was Draco Malfoy trying to get fresh with him? "Eew! Yech!"

"What?"

Ron composed himself, shaking the ghastly thought from his head. "Um, I mean, this is The Burrow, what'd you expect? There's always someone around."

"Oh." Draco's voice sounded hopeful over the line. "So," he said, injecting a cheery yet forcibly casual note into his voice, "who's at home now?"

Ron frowned. This was getting ridiculous. "Well, you know I'm at home. So are Gred and Forge - I mean, Fred and George - and Percy, and Mum, of course." He thought. "Yeah, and Ginny as well."

Ron thought he heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh," Draco squeaked. He wasn't very articulate on the phone, was he? "Well. Tell her I said hi."

"Her?"

"I--I mean them. As in more than one person. Tell them I said hi," Draco corrected, sounding very flustered indeed. "Them. You know, George and Fred and Percy and your Mum and... and Ginny."

Ron stared suspiciously at the phone in his hand. He felt that he was missing something here. "Alright, then. I'll tell them that you said hi," He told Draco. "Is there anything else?"

"Are they... are they busy right now? I mean, are they doing anything?" Draco's voice was uncharacteristically timid.

Ron decided to entertain him. "Mum's cooking, Fred and George are exploding things in their room, Ginny's doing who-knows-what, and Percy is writing a report for the Ministry as usual..."

"Right. So what is Ginny doing?" Draco asked very casually. "I mean, since I would like to know what everyone is doing, knowing what Ginny is doing would be a good idea."

"For the last time, I don't know!" Ron told him.

"Could you... could you please find out for me?" Draco asked very politely.

Ron snapped. He'd had enough of it! He could deal with Malfoy's usual snappishness and snide remarks with a simple flick of his wand, but he couldn't deal with this new, uncharacteristically meek Malfoy, this... this..."NO! NO NO NO NO NO! What, in Merlin's name, is your PROBLEM? Will you PLEASE stop this charade and tell me what the HELL you want?"

"Okay," Draco replied. "Could I please speak to Ginny? I would like to confirm our date."

*