She's A Malfoy (Fred Weasley)

Chapter Two: Harry Potter Smells Like Ice Cream

DIXIE

As grateful as I am for the Weasley's support, I know this is only going to end in trouble, I realise as I sit there on the floor, surrounded by the red haired family (and Harry Potter and Hermione Granger), contemplating my options. If I allow them to accompany me, (which they seem adamant on, unless it's a trick to kill me for my family's wrongdoings - honestly I wouldn't be surprised at this point) it's likely both they and I will be punished, though perhaps in slightly different ways. But I must admit, even if only to myself, surrounded by these people, I'm feeling more welcomed than I do with my own family. That's not normal, I know, but I guess it's a sign of how much I really, really hate being a Malfoy. My life is a constant blend of the looks and feelings I'm getting now. From Arthur and Molly, who I learnt were the mother and father, it was a feeling similar to pride. They were proud that I was better than my family. From the rest, though, especially the twins, Harry, Ron, and Hermione,  it was the smallest amount of disbelief, hostility, and mild anger, buried under their concern, interest, and cautious like. They didn't want to admit they hate me because of my family - they might not even realise they do, just yet, - because I've come across as nice, but in their eyes I find the same emotions I get from everyone my family has ever encountered. Trust me, I want to say to them, I know. But, I don't, and I count to 10 in my head before I make my decision. 

"Thank you all, so much," I begin, "but really, I can't see this ending well, for anyone. I don't mean to offend you, but my Father... He, uh, well, he's not exactly the greatest person. And you all are, and I really don't want to see any of you hurt any more because of him. Or Draco," I say, with a short, but meaningful look at Harry. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to stop either of them, I swear I have been trying. But, um," I can't entirely believe I'm doing this. Yes, I am aware Draco is terrible, awful, to Harry and his friends, but he is still my brother, and the mornings like today prove it. Nevertheless, I've already begun, and I can't leave Harry and his friends defenceless for when Draco comes after him again, as he inevitably will, "if you ever wanted to prank him, Harry, being his sister has a few benefits... One of them being that I know for a fact he is terrified of dogs." Having made up my mind, I give him a wink and stand, the Weasley's moving away, slowly, to give me room. Harry looks shocked, and Ron is smirking. Hermione looks slightly worried, but with an undercurrent of determination. Oh, Draco is going to kill me. "I know this sounds terrible, but I have to ask -well, he is still my family, and though I'm not sure that counts for anything with them it does with me- will you hold off until he's done something to you? I'll try and give you a warning when he's planning something, too, but don't give him a reason to be especially horrid." 

"I'll definitely try," Harry says, "but I don't think I'm going to have to wait long. No offence, but your brother is a rotten git." 

"Isn't he?!" I exclaim, feeling elated to have someone to talk to who agrees, but then feel immediately terrible. The group laughs, and I force a grin, and then sigh. "But I swear, he does have his nice moments, you know... And I just wish... I just wish he wasn't a complete jerk 98% of the time. I know it sounds impossible, but I actually think you two could be friends, if he was as good to you as I know he is." 

"Gee, thanks, Dix. Glad to hear I'm not a complete jerk 2% of the time," comes a familiar, drawling voice. Ah, crap. I whirl around, and sure enough, there's Draco, wearing a hurt expression. If you didn't know him, it would just look very similar to his bored face, but there was a certain wrinkle above his left eye that stops me short. That only came out when it was serious. "Resorted to hanging out with this lot of filth, have you?" I know this is what he is normally like, I know, but I can't help but feel as though it's my fault. The Weasley's and co, previously smiling and joking, now were in defensive positions, most probably unknowingly, expressions fierce, taut with barely suppressed hatred.