Happiness Is an Angry Weasley

I knew the moment I saw my father looking at Weasley that I was in trouble. Not just, "Draco, you've been a bad boy, go to your room," kind of trouble. Huge, gigantic, "Draco, get the hell out of my house after I hex your bollocks off," kind of trouble.

Didn't I say before I wanted to make it through this with my down there bits in tact?

Oh well. If I can live I suppose that will be enough.

When we landed from the Portkey, I stumbled a bit and nearly fell. When I was younger, my father always grabbed my shoulder to keep me from falling.

Bloody hell, he's angry.

"Draco."

Oh shit. He only uses that voice when he's about to curse a house-elf or one of his moronic Death Eater buddies is about to be told on to the Dark Lord.

Shit shit shit.

At least Weasley taught me to curse appropriately for a situation such as the one I'm in.

"Be in my study in fifteen minutes."

I nodded blankly. Fifteen minutes. That's how long I have to live.

Shit.

I think that's going to be the theme word of the day.

I practically flew to my room and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. I scratched out a quick note and sent it off. That'll come in handy.

I threw some important things into a bag, shrunk it, and stuffed it in my pocket.

That was it. That was all the time I had.

I ran to my father's study, knowing being late would only heighten his anger. After a moment's hesitation in which I debated simply running away and assuming I was disowned, I raised my hand and knocked quickly.

"Come in."

I took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy wooden door. My father was sitting on the opposite side of his desk, perusing some papers. It almost looked like it was a normal day in the old Death Eater home office, that is until I had stepped in far enough for him to point his wand at the door and cause it to slam behind me.

I gulped.

He motioned towards the chair in front of him, steepling his fingers below his chin and looking more intimidating than I'd ever seen him.

"Do you know what you've done to cause me such grief, Draco?"

Play dumb or not?

I shook my head.

He narrowed his eyes and threw a tattered piece of parchment at me. It had obviously been read many times.

I scanned the letter and swore mentally. That bitch, Pansy. I should've known she was in on this when she acted too stupid after receiving my father's letter. If I survived this, she would be sorry.

I looked up at him and met his gaze. I didn't know what he wanted me to say. I couldn't deny it because he would know I was lying. I couldn't confirm it because... well, I wanted to live.

"Is it true?"

Ah. So we're being upfront, are we?

I nodded slowly.

I jumped as he slammed his hands onto the desk before him.

"Draco, are you a complete idiot? Our Lord will not put up with such... disgusting behavior! You are my heir, the only heir to the Malfoy name, and you dare drag it through the mud by... associating with a dirt-poor blood traitor?"

I looked at the parchment in my hands, not really seeing it. Just get on with it... Throw me out, curse me, whatever.

I looked up at him after a long period of silence and met his eyes again. There wasn't just anger in his eyes, but disappointment. I didn't know which hurt worse.

"Choose. The filth or your family."

I gulped, thinking quickly. Weasley or Malfoy. Poor and moronically reckless, or rich and powerful.

Someone I thought I could fall in love with, or my family who never seemed to spare a thought of love for me.

A future of... happiness? Maybe? Or a future of kneeling at the feet of a hypocritical "Lord" whose dirty work I'll be doing for the rest of my life?

Ha. That's easy.

When I looked up again, he knew what I chose.

"Get out of my house."

My eyes widened. I had been expecting it, but... hearing it like that...

"NOW!"

I jumped up and ran for the chimney. I flooed immediately to the Leaky Cauldron, knowing I could get a room there for the rest of the break.

-------------------------

After I'd settled into the dust-covered room, I took out two pieces of parchment. I penned a quick note to Weasley to let him know of my current situation. The second note was to Gringotts, letting them know to do as my earlier letter had warned.

After all, I'm of legal age, so it's my right to lock my own vault from any outsiders, including my father. I suppose that's what he gets for giving me my own portion of the Malfoy fortune before I had fulfilled the duties he wanted of me.

I lay back on the bed, not really believing that I had gotten off that easily.

I still had all my body parts, I wasn't beaten to a pulp, and while I wasn't insanely rich I still had enough funds at my disposal to live comfortably for a few years after graduation.

-------------------------

To say that I was a bit afraid when I woke up to someone banging on the door in the middle of the night would be an understatement.

I jumped a couple feet into the air, grabbed my wand, checked my hair in the mirror, and opened it a crack to see who was there.

"Damn it, Weasley," I muttered before opening the door. I was inwardly very relieved to see his flaming-red hair rather than my father's white-blonde hair. One meant safe, the other meant pain and wondering, "Why, God, did I answer the door!?"

He walked in and threw his arms around me.

"Weasley..." I warned, not wanting to become emotional. If I can hide the frustration, it doesn't exist. If he squeezes it out of me... I don't know how I'll react.

"Shut up, Draco," he said, pulling me flush against him. I sighed deeply, unable to resist the affection. My eyes are burning. This isn't good.

"Weasley, I don't want to-"

"I said shut up. I'm here. Just act like you want me to be."

I was stumped. Did he think I didn't want him there?

With a resigned sigh, I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my nose into the crook of his shoulder.

When will Gryffindors cease to amaze me?