The Shotgun Bride

Chapter 15: Rebel Yell

"Dearie!" Narcissa called out the front door of the trailer. "Telephone..."

She looked at Pansy, who was just now pushing herself up into a sitting position, legs splayed out and touching her nose gingerly. She looked at Ginny, who was tugging Draco's arm and looking a mite guilty. She looked at her son, who looked mildly interested and angry and complacent simultaneously.

"What's going on out here?" she demanded.

"Nothing," replied Draco immediately.

"Nothing?" she raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Well, it is nothing," Ginny said. Narcissa glanced at her, then stared at her son. He was the weak link as far as she was concerned.

"Draco, dear," she said, playing up the motherly concern. "Why is Miss Parkinson on the ground?"

"Because dat bitch hit me!" Pansy snapped, pointing at Ginny.

"Are you sure?" Narcissa asked the girl. "Ginny doesn't seem the violent type to me."

"Well, she is," Pansy insisted, followed by a mutter that Narcissa thought sounded like 'skank.'

Ginny growled, and moved towards Pansy, only to be held back by Draco.

"Pansy," Narcissa said. "I think it's time for you to go home. Tell your mother I said thanks for that lemon meringue pie she sent last week. Draco, your aunt is on the telephone."

Pansy stood up, teetering on her high heeled sandals. "I'm not gonna forget dis," she said to Ginny, and then headed back up the street.

Ginny followed Draco into the house, where he flopped onto the couch and accepted the telephone from his mother. Narcissa then disappeared back into her room to beautify herself for the meeting she was attending that night.

"Hey," he said. "How're you doing, Aunt Bella? Yeah, I know, prison isn't fun. But you got paroled, right? What do you mean, it's about time? They do tend to look down on things like that, you know. Well, I'm just saying it's not like you stole some socks or something. You did break quite a few... Yes, I have respect for my elders, Aunt Bella. So, you'll be coming home soon? Next week? That's great... What? Where at? Are you sure? Half the rent and utilities? Yeah, I think so... I'll have to ask... Okay, bye."

Ginny sat there, looking at him. "What was all that about?"

"That was my aunt Bella. She offered to let us live with her."

"I distinctly heard the words 'prison' and 'parole' in there."

"Well, yeah," Draco shifted under Ginny's glare. "She's not like some evil babykiller or something. She just... got mixed up in the wrong crowd."

"And you want us to move in with her?"

"Well... see, she's moving in over on Felton Drive," Draco said.

"Felton Drive?" Ginny asked, interest piqued. "How'd she get a house over there? There are never any vacancies."

Draco shrugged. "She got a good deal, too. Something about knowing the owner."

"Is she tolerable?" Ginny asked.

"More tolerable than any of our other options," Draco said diplomatically.

"Okay then," Ginny said.

**

Later that week:

Draco knocked on the door, and entered the Weasley's home. He was a little less nervous about coming into his girlfriend-no, fiance's home now that his bruises were healed up and her brothers had seen the ring.

"Good news, dear," Mrs. Weasley said to him immediately. "About the job."

Ginny looked up from her magazine, alarmed. "Job?"

"You didn't mention it yet? Oh, I didn't mean to spoil the surprise," Mrs. Weasley said to Draco, who looked less than thrilled.

"Well, I only got the job fifteen minutes ago," Draco said, a mite annoyed.

"You... got a job," Ginny said.

"Yes."

Ginny blinked. That was rather unexpected. She knew, of course, that husbands worked and that babies cost money that they currently didn't have, but she'd rather figured that Draco would show up one day with a pillowcase filled with small bills, telling her to not mention it and that to say he had been home all evening if anyone asked. An actual job had never figured much into her thoughts.

"Um, where are you working?" she asked.

"The garage," he mumbled.

"With Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully. "Isn't it going to be a wonderful experience for you two to get to know one another?"

"Wonderful," Draco said through gritted teeth.

"Mom, I think that Draco would like a glass of iced tea," Ginny said, feeling the need for a private talk.

"Okay, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, picking up easily on the 'we need to talk' vibe and bustling out of the room.

"Do you want to work at the garage?" Ginny asked immediately.

"Well, yeah. It pays good and I do like to work on cars," Draco replied. "Though I didn't exactly want to work with your father- no offence- but he offered the job and he said he'd give me time off when I needed it."

"But do you think you can stand to work for him?" Ginny asked, thinking about the grease that would never come out from under his fingernails once he started working at the garage.

"I think so," said Draco.

"When do you start?" she asked.

"In two weeks- I'm replacing that old bastard Mad Eye," Draco replied.

Ginny was sure he was gloating over that one. He and Mad Eye had not seen eye to eye since an incident four years ago. Draco had been in a fight with Harry Potter after some words had been exchanged at the Labor Day fireworks display. Mad Eye had broken up the fight by pulling the head off the Fairview High team mascot, Frederick the Ferret, and shoving it on Draco, then pushing him ever so gently into the kids' giant dragon-shaped bouncing pit, where Draco had floundered and been thrown in the air by bouncing children for a good five minutes.

"I guess that's okay by me," Ginny said, giving her all-powerful seal of approval.

Draco leaned over and kissed her to celebrate her approval for his first foray into the working force.

Mrs. Weasley chose that moment to make a return, holding a pitcher of tea and a dish of pasta. "I brought the pasta salad."

Ginny took one whiff of it, and bolted from the room.

"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "She's been doing that a lot lately."

Draco stood, and followed his fiancé.

"Is she okay?" Mrs. Weasley called, unconcerned.

Draco, who was hovering near the bathroom door, called back, "She's fine. Just a little sick... She seems better already."

Ginny stepped out of the bathroom, looking unhappy. "I hate you," she told Draco. They went into the Weasley's kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley had put the offending pasta back into the fridge.

"What do you want, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I think just a ham sandwich is fine. No mayo," Ginny replied.

Mrs. Weasley made two ham sandwiches, no mayo, and handed them to the young couple. "There you go, dears."

Draco stared at his sandwich. He had wanted mayo on his. He considered asking for it, but then glanced sideways at Ginny, who had taken a bite happily and looked not the slightest bit ill. Suddenly, mayo didn't seem all that appetizing.

"So," said Mrs. Weasley. "Have you picked out your dress yet?"

For a horrifying second, Draco thought that she was speaking to him, and he frantically wondered what he had forgotten that involved cross-dressing. Surely Mrs. Weasley hadn't heard about last year's Slytherin celebration party, not that he had been a willing participant in any of the incidents that had occurred.

"No, Mom, I haven't," Ginny said, unwittingly saving Draco from the embarrassment of protesting any possible cross-dressing tendencies.

"Well, you should get to it. You don't have all the time in the world, you know," Mrs. Weasley tutted. "After all, the wedding is going to be on the Fourth of July."

Ginny and Draco both froze. "What?"

"That's the plan... Me and Narcissa got to talking, and we decided that a picnic wedding on Independence Day would be fantastic."

"Mom-"

"I've talked to Hermione, and Fleur, and Angelina and Katie, and Penelope, and they've all agreed to be bridesmaids! Hermione said that she saw some beautiful dresses down at Goody's, a lovely shade of light yellow, that can be the bridesmaids dresses!" Mrs. Weasley paused, smiling widely. "It's going to be so beautiful! My baby girl's getting married!"

Ginny finally managed to speak up. "Um, Mom, can't I, you know, plan my wedding?"

"Well, when were you thinking?"

"I... hadn't, exactly,"Ginny said. "I guess the Fourth is okay."

"And we should go dress shopping- this weekend okay?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a tone that meant that this weekend was going to be okay regardless of prior plans.

Ginny nodded wordlessly.

Draco was feeling like a steamroller had just hit him. "I hate to eat and run, but we've really got to be going," he said, and pulled Ginny from her chair.

As they pulled out of the driveway, both started talking at once.

"How could she..."

"I don't know what she was thinking..."

"That's in like two weeks!"

"There's no way..."

They looked at each other.

"We're getting married!"

"Soon!"

"Eep!"

A few moments of silence.

"You know," Draco said, "I really, really don't want some big wedding that our mothers have planned."

"Me either," Ginny said. "Why can't we just get married without some big celebration and all that? Because, frankly, our families and friends together is just a recipe for the worst wedding ever."

A lightbulb simultaneously lit for them both, and they grinned at one another before starting to make their plans.