Happiness Is an Angry Weasley

The rest of the break was spent being surrounded by flaming red hair and lots of food. By lots of food, I mean insane amounts being forced in front of me by a very persistent mother who insisted I was "much too thin."

I gave in most of the time, eating until I was sure I'd be sick, just so the old witch would leave me alone. The fact that Ron gave me an infuriatingly fond smile every time I gave in just a little more had nothing to do with it.

The last day of break before we had to return to school, I found myself outside by myself for the first time the entire long-weekend. I sighed peacefully.

The loving family atmosphere was comforting in a way. To be able to see so many happy people in one setting, not because they had money but because they had each other, was something I hadn't been familiar with previously.

I wasn't familiar with the constant noise, chaos, and attention either.

I sat in the grass in a particularly clear part of the woods next to the Weasley home and sighed again. It was actually rather nice. I had always thought that everyone would be depressed from financial depravation, or from the threat of You-Know-Who. I was surprised to see both assumptions proved wrong. Though the family was obviously not rich, they lived amongst each other somewhat comfortably in their mediocre financial state. They didn't have the most wonderful things, but they had enough to be content. You-Know-Who was actually mentioned only once the entire time I had been at what they called "The Burrow." It was in passing, as though he wasn't threatening their very way of life.

It was a little disconcerting to know he wasn't a constant force, looming in the background of the happiness the family seemed to have. I knew they must worry about him, but they somehow managed to separate that worry from their daily interactions.

Another nice point to this whole insanity.

I think I'd only been sitting by myself for a few minutes, pondering life as I previously knew it and life as the Weasleys had shown me, when I heard footsteps. I whipped my head around and saw my favorite of the Weasley lot walking towards me, a goofy grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes, both at the look on his face and the thought of him being my "favorite" Weasley. To think I actually liked any of them enough to have one favored above the rest. Ha.

"Mum was worried," he said, plopping down on the grass next to me. I rolled my eyes again.

"I am old enough to take care of myself, you know," I said, knowing it sounded somewhat childish as I said it. Whatever. I'm a Malfoy, I can sound childish and still be devilishly attractive at the same time.

"Of course," Ron said, giving me an infuriatingly "knowing" smirk. Pffft. Like he knew my personality well enough to give me that look. "She still thinks you're too thin."

My mouth dropped open. "What?! I'm sure I've gained horrific amounts of weight since I arrived here, and I'm too thin?!" Batty old woman!

He was grinning wider. I narrowed my eyes at his obvious amusement at my situation. Knowing I was right on the edge of being outraged, he said, "You have not gained horrific amounts of weight, and if I have to keep assuring you of your thinness I'm going to start to think I'm actually dating a girl."

That did it. "Fuck you, Weasley," I growled, pouncing on him.

We wrestled in the grass for a few minutes, until finally he actually tried to overcome my lack of strength and had me pinned down. "You're kind of cute when you're angry, Malfoy," he muttered, holding my wrists tightly above my head.

I glared. "Don't patronize me," I hissed.

He rolled his eyes and said, "I don't know why the hell I put up with you."

I thought about that for a minute and shrugged as best as I could in the current situation. "Because I'm amazingly handsome?"

He chuckled a little and said, "Perhaps it's because all you can seem to ever think about is your own vanity?"

I tried to appear pensive for a moment, and then shook my head. "No. It's because I actually am extremely good-looking."

He rolled his eyes again and let me go from my helpless state. "Git," he said.

"Prat," I replied.

I never thought I'd receive a punch from Weasley immediately followed by a mind-blowing snog, but then again I never thought I'd be welcomed into the Weasley home in the first place... or disowned by my father... or, for that matter, that I'd ever even realize it was an option to be openly that way and consider dating a Weasley.

I really never thought I'd be happy like this. This is what happiness is to me after-all. An angry Weasley.

An angry Weasley snogging my brains out in the middle of nowhere outside of his house full of very strong older brothers who would beat me to a pulp if they witnessed this horrendous act of sexual depravity occurring between their innocent younger brother and an evil, ridiculously handsome Slytherin.

Sometimes I seriously wonder about my sanity.