The Beauty of the Beast [Dramione]

Unrest at the Headquarters

Heeeeey all. How's spring break going? I'm in Georgia hanging out with the Alligators...So If I randomly stop uploading, it's because I've been eaten.

I swear I was going to update sooner, I felt so motivated yesterday. I got up, went on a run, and came back all like "Yeah, I'm gonna upload another chapter today!" and then spent the whole day on the couch of the hotel room in Savannah watching and rewatching YouTube videos... I can say that my grades are suffering because of it, but deep down, I don't really care. Take that, crabby english teacher! *childishly sticking out tongue*

Anyway, yet another chapter, yet another part of the journey that we take together...I feel so very sentimental. Okay, moment's gone, back to the story.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Harry Potter Series.

Mr. Weasley was not the happiest of people at the moment.

He was currently in one of the upper right-sided wings of Grimmauld Place, once again the hiding spot for the Order, and was cleansing (or to use a more proper term, dumping buckets of icy water) on the blonde head of a certain unfavorable and recently splinched young Malfoy.

Having heard from Lavender Brown not moments before he was about to set off for the Burrow that a few Muggles had wandered upon a seemingly dead Draco Malfoy and had panicked, he had been obliged to go forth and do as any good order member would do; detain the enemy. But when he realized the critical condition that Malfoy was in (not that he cared much for the stuck-up prat, after all, he was Voldemort's right-hand-man) he knew that he would not be filling in the job of an interrogator, but one of a nurse. And never having had much time to prepare for his new nursing-a-death-eater job, he was less than enthralled about it.

Grabbing another bucket from under the running tap, he waited until it was ¾ of the way full of icy water and then poured it over the blond head. Most of the blood had been washed away the first three times, but Mr. Weasley figured why not make it an even four. Or odd five. Or even six. But by the seventh dunking, Arthur Weasley's feeling of amusement had dissipated, and he began to worry if the drunkard would even wake up, or if he was dead.

The wound on his chest had been healed relatively quickly by Luna, and he showed no more outward signs of damage other than some bruising and cuts on his hands.

Shrugging, Arthur poured the water over the blonde once more. Eighth time's a charm.

Indeed it was, because no sooner had the latest installment of freezing water been poured upon him, Draco Malfoy awoke from his inebriated stupor, spluttering for air and rambling on something about a vase. Mr. Weasley had the foresight to tie his hands to the back of the chair while he was still unconscious and had disarmed him before, giving his wand to the wandless Parvati. So when Draco's gaze changed from confused to murderous, Arthur was relatively unconcerned.

"Your wand's been taken away, you've splinched after drinking yourself into a vegetative state, and you're currently not in the optimum position to do anything about your predicament, so I wouldn't even try." Draco didn't look surprised, he was almost bored. He stared evenly at the elder man, his icy eyes revealing nothing and a disdaining sneer ever present on his face.

"So, you've managed to catch yourself a drunk Death Eater, who couldn't even run away. You must feel very accomplished indeed. Must be a big break for you, Weasley. I guess you've always been good-for-nothing, but now maybe the Order will consider keeping you." He drawled, relaxing in the chair, and presenting the picture of a young man on vacation, where, if he could, he would have his hands behind his head and his legs crossed.

Mr. Weasley' s face changed to a shade of red and he pointed his wand at the boy who stared at the wand in front of him. "Adstringo." A gag tied itself roughly around Malfoy's face, cutting into his skin slightly and preventing him from speaking.