The Shotgun Bride

Chapter Eleven: Tattoo

"I told you, I didn't provoke anything!"

"Dearie, don't lie to me. I saw it with my very own eyes."

"Well, get them checked, because none of that was my fault."

"Is that any way to speak to your grandmother?"

"Well..."

"It sounds like your brother is home," Molly told Ginny. They were in the kitchen, and Molly was trying to show Ginny how to make meringue. So far, it had been an unsuccessful endeavor.

There was a clang as the front door swung open, and Ron charged in. He stalked through the living room, and into the kitchen, where he sat down at the table angrily.

Molly asked as she turned the stove off, "What's wro-"

She caught a good glimpse of her youngest son.

She fought back the urge to laugh uproariously, and managed to choke out, "What happened?"

Ron glared at her. "It isn't funny!"

"Of course not, but how did you manage..." Molly trailed off, then waved her hand in the general direction of her son. "That?"

Ron sat down heavily in a kitchen chair, dripping wet and covered in grease stains. His pants had several large rips, including one that seemed to stretch across his behind, and his t-shirt was missing a sleeve.

"It's all Mamaw's fault," he grumbled.

"It was not!" exclaimed Jo as she strolled into the kitchen for the second time that evening. All the others in the kitchen thought that was two times to many. "I told you not to trust that dog."

"After you said, 'Here, poochie, poochie. Momma's got you some treats right here. Just come right over here, puppy,'" Ron said.

"I never said to pet the dog, though, did I?" Jo replied.

Ron glared.

"Though you did look right silly running around the junkyard, trying to keep your britches from falling off," Jo continued blithely. "I especially liked when you fell face first into that scuzzy pond out back. Hard telling what all lived in there, you'll probably grow an extra eye or die or something. And that whole thing with the busted headlight was entirely your fault, too. Molly, I thought you could have raised these kids a bit better than that."

"Than what?" Molly asked, looking back and forth between the two.

"Than throwing a hubcap like that," Jo replied. "I thought it was gonna take off someone's head."

"What, exactly, happened?" Ginny interceded. She recognized the shade of red that her mother's ears were turning, and it was not good.

"After that dog chased me all across the junkyard and into that pond, Mamaw saw the hubcap that she needed. So I went over to pry it off the car, and it accidentally happened to fly across the yard and hit a car."

"My car," snapped Jo. "Not just any car. Mine."

"It was an accident!"protested Ron. "But then, old Hagrid wandered out of the building to see what we needed, right? And he saw the busted headlight, and found us another one that was the exact same. So, no harm done."

"Except to my original headlight! And then that brute overcharged us for the hubcap," Jo replied.

"Ten bucks for a headlight and a hubcap is not overcharging," Ron replied.

"I think it's highway robbery, what those junkyards get away with," continued Jo, ignoring Ron's words completely. "But, anyway, it's almost time for me to go. Congratulations, dear, on the engagement," she said to Ginny. "And learn some manners," she said to Ron. "Goodnight," she said, and walked out. A few seconds later, her car started, and then pulled away.

Ron, Ginny, and Molly all breathed a sigh of relief.

*

The next morning, Draco woke up, grumbling about the sun and how it shouldn't shine, and climbed out of bed, or rather, fell out of bed with style and a vague semblance of order.

"Draco!" His mother's voice drifted through the paper thin walls. "Are you up yet?"

"Glurg," replied Draco. He hurt. He gingerly moved an arm, and was greeted with pain. As he stood up and stretched, he noted sadly that the pain covered his entire body. Those damn Weasley boys had done him over good.

"Draco, get up!" yelled Narcissa.

"Nurg," called Draco. Why couldn't the woman let him suffer in peace?

"Draco, get your lazy ass out of bed now! Molly Weasley just called," Narcissa snapped. It sounded like she was now just outside of the door. True to his prediction, the door swung open to reveal his mother, who looked bright awake. Either she hadn't yet gone to bed or she had been up a while.

"Why?" he managed to ask.

"Does there have to be a reason for your future in-laws to call?" said Narcissa. She sounded decidedly cranky, and Draco decided that she had just been up a while. She normally sounded blearier when she'd been up all night.

"Well," Draco said. Why would Mrs. Weasley call his home, and apparently speak to his mother? Surely she wasn't calling to apologize for her sons' behavior, he couldn't even recall her doing that last night. She'd treated him to some wonderful cake, but hadn't said a single word of apology...

Perhaps she wasn't quite as fond of him as he had supposed.

"Anyway," Narcissa said, putting her claw-like nail-tipped hands on her lycra covered hips, "She was inviting us to a barbecue. Said she'd already invited you, and wanted to see if me and your father wanted to come too."

It was a very good thing that Draco had chosen that moment to sit back down on his bed. "And you said no, right?"

"Of course I didn't!" Narcissa protested. "I figured, I've got the afternoon free, and you know your father isn't doing anything other than trying to help John-Boy Flint next door to get that damn old car of his started, so I accepted the invitation. I'm gonna take some potato salad."

"Okay," said Draco. His parents plus the Weasleys together in one yard so soon after yesterday's fiasco? There was no way that this could turn out well.

"So, you go on next door and get your father. We're supposed to be there in a couple hours, it'll take that long to pry him away from that car and convince him to scrub all the grease off him," Narcissa continued. "Oh, and feed the dogs while you're out there."

"Okay, Mom," Draco said. "Just let me get dressed." Last thing he needed today was Pansy Parkinson from down the street to see him outside him his Scooby-Doo boxers. He was pretty sure he would never live down being attacked by her, foaming at the mouth. He tugged on his favorite jeans, the ones that had been faded and worn to perfection, and searched through his bedroom floor, looking for a shirt that wasn't completely wrinkled and stinky. He finally unearthed an old flannel shirt that didn't look too bad from behind the closet door, and pulled it on over a slightly rumpled wifebeater.

He went outside after performing his daily beauty ritual, as his mother called it. She seemed to think that he was obsessed with his appearance or something. He wasn't, though. He just had to make sure his hair wasn't sticking up in forty different directions before leaving the house, but different strokes for different folks.

He stopped by the dog pen, and poured some kibble into the large dish just inside the pen's door. Hoss the pit bull dug into the food, snarling just a little as Draco filled the water dish up with the hose. Draco then wandered next door to the Flint's.

Lucius Malfoy was leaning under the hood of the offending car, with loud clanks and cussing sounding ever few seconds.

"Dad," said Draco. Lucius stood up too quickly, and hit his head on the latch of the hood.

"Goddamnit!" he yelled, clutching his head."What do you want, boy?"

"Mom said to get on home," Draco replied. Well, she had said something similar to that, and he didn't really want to announce where they were going in front of John-Boy Flint, because then the news of his engagement would spread faster than Pansy's legs on a first date.

"Fine, I'll be over in a minute," replied Lucius. "Hand me that wrench while you're over there, will ya?"

Draco handed him the wrench. As Lucius took it, Draco noticed for the millionth time in his life the skull and snake tattoo on the inside of his father's arm. Lucius had long ago told him the story behind the tattoo. He'd apparently gotten very, very drunk on some moonshine someone or another had procured (he was never really very clear on this point) and had then decided that he needed a tattoo. Two hours and a sore arm later, he had the somewhat crudely drawn tattoo that was on his arm today.

Draco thought that the story sounded a little fishy, and that the tattoo looked like a prison tattoo, but he'd never actually asked about his suspicions. No sense getting his dad all grumpy over something as silly as a snake and skull tattoo.

Draco went back home, thankful that John-Boy's son, Marcus, hadn't come outside. Marcus was a decent enough guy despite having teeth that made him look like his momma was a donkey, who was a sloppy enough drunk that inviting him to parties was always entertaining, and all in all a pretty good friend of Draco's. However, he was also great at weaseling information out of people, and Draco really didn't want his friends to know about his impending marriage just yet. At least not until after he had bought a ring, and no one could say anything about him getting bullied into marrying Ginny.

He really had been intending to propose to Ginny. He just thought that it might wait awhile, until after everything settled down. But he hadn't wanted to get on Arthur's bad side. After all, he was going to have to deal with the man at the very least on most holidays from here on out, and the less tension he created, the better.

Maybe after the barbecue he would cruise over into town, and begin to look for a nice ring for Ginny. He had a little bit of money stashed away, and he knew that he could get her a real diamond. Hard telling how big of a diamond, but he'd get her a real one. She didn't deserve any less.

A few minutes later, true to his word, Lucius Malfoy stepped through the front door of his trailer. "Well, woman, what did you want to tell me?"

"We're going to a barbecue. Clean yourself up," replied Narcissa. She was settled on the couch, and was carefully painting her toenails a vivid orange.

"I ain't going to that rat bastard Snape's again," said Lucius. "Remember the incident with the bug spray and the spatula?"

"Yes, I haven't forgotten that," snapped Narcissa. "Poor Luella was at the vet's for a week! But this barbecue ain't at Severus'. It's at the Weasleys."

"What?" snapped Lucius. "I'm not about to go to that fool's house to eat. No telling what he'd put in my food."

"Molly's a nice woman," Narcissa replied. "And what with Draco marrying their daughter, I thought it would be nice if we went, since they went to all the trouble to invite us."

"But," Lucius said.

"No buts," said Narcissa. "Go clean yourself up. We've got to be there in an hour and a half."

An hour and a half later, Lucius and Draco stood next to the door, awaiting inspection from Narcissa.

"You've still got a little grease under your fingernails," she said to Lucius, "And Draco, dear, is that what you're going to wear?"

"So?" said Lucius.

"Yeah," said Draco.

"Fine. Look like hooligans, the both of you. And we're late!" Narcissa said, and swept out the door. Her husband and son followed her, and they climbed into Narcissa's car without argument.