The Little Hatchet Story

Draco Malfoy felt rather like a lizard in a matchbox as he sat in the Living Room of the Burrow. He thought that if he stretched his relatively long legs, he would be able to touch the other end of the room, but that was only a considerable stretch of his imagination. He was just about to extend his legs and test his theory, when he heard his fiancée’s voice raised in admonishment.

“Fred and George, stop that immediately! Just because mom and dad aren’t here, doesn’t mean you can go about casting spells all over the place! This visit is for the family to get to know Draco and I won’t stand-”

He wasn’t destined to know what his betrothed wouldn’t stand, for at that moment there came a loud bang. The furniture rattled and Draco saw by the aid of a conveniently placed mirror that a single strand of hair was out of place. He hurriedly smoothened it down, for if anyone caught sight of him looking like a disheveled beggar, his reputation as Hogwarts’ Sex God would be at stake – not that he was still at Hogwarts- but he had it on excellent authority that after his graduation, there was nobody who could stake a claim to that title.

Just in time,’ he thought, as he heard the sound of footsteps.

He turned his head to see the Weasley twins enter. They had satisfied smiles on their faces, but once their eyes fell on him, it turned to one of malicious glee. Draco felt uneasy at their expressions. He had always known that there was none to equal their prowess in playing pranks – he had heard enough from Ginny – and could only be thankful that during all his years of ‘courting’ (if such an old-fashioned expression can be used) Ginny, he had never been at the receiving end of their shenanigans.

Of course, he had been prepared for something of this sort when Ginny had told him of this obligatory visit, but he had expected that the presence of her parents and other Weasleys would have acted as an impediment…He craned his neck and tried to see if anybody else was coming in. Ginny, while shouting at the twins had let slip that her parents were away, but that didn’t answer the question as to her present whereabouts..

“Looking for our dearest Ginny?” asked Fred (at least he thought it was Fred. He could never tell who was who) with a sneer.

“Uh…huh.” Yeah, that’s the best reply I can come up with!

“Don’t worry. She’ll be here soon,” said George (if the other was Fred, this must be George) mirroring Fred’s sneer. “After your initiation ceremony is over.”

*THE ROOM DARKENS SLOWLY…OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYS*

“Hey! I’m scared of the dark! Aaargh! Was that a bat? Get it off…Get it off! GET IT OFF!” Draco’s voice rose to a hysterical pitch.

*THE LIGHTS COME ON AGAIN AND OMINOUS MUSIC STOPS*

“Ooh, look Fred, poor Drakie-poo is afraid of bats!”

“Maybe he would prefer something a little more cold-blooded.” As Fred said this, a rattle snake appeared out of nowhere and fell on Draco’s shoulder. Before he could react, it coiled itself around his shoulder and was poised to strike. But this time, unlike the bat episode (which was very demeaning to one from Slytherin) Draco was ready.

He waved his wand and the next instant the snake disappeared.

In spite of themselves the twins were impressed.

“Well Malfoy, you have failed the 1st test unbecomingly, passed the 2nd test with flying colours and are now about to embark on the 3rd and final test.”

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Enough time to pay back them back once he was safely married to Ginny. “I’m all agog with anticipation,” he said lazily.

The twins settled themselves comfortably on a worn-out looking sofa, which dislodged some more of its stuffing on their sitting on it.

“This test is quite easy as compared to the previous ones,” said George.

“We didn’t want your blood pressure to shoot up leaving us to explain to Ginny that there was to be a funeral instead of a wedding,” said Fred.

“And Ginny hates wearing black. She says it makes her look like a ladybird,” chuckled George.

“Would you please get on with the 3rd task?” asked Draco, trying his best to sound polite to his future brothers-in-law.

“Well, you have to tell us a story,” said Fred.

“Complete with a moral,” added George.

“And no leaving the story incomplete, for that would leave the initiation ceremony only half finished, which means you cannot enter into our family,” said Fred a wicked gleam in his eye.

Draco looked in bewilderment from Fred to George and then back again. Had they completely lost it? Were they degenerating into 2nd childhood?’ That he could very well believe, though he had doubts as to them having grown out of first childhood at all.

“You have exactly 5 seconds to begin,” said Fred.

‘You have to do this, for Ginny’s sake’ The image of Ginny’s face gave him courage. He took a deep breath and began -

“George Rinsington was a very famous muggle. When he was very young, his father gave him a little hatchet for a-”

“Gave who a little hatchet?” interrupted Fred.

“George Rinsington. His-”

“Who gave him the little hatchet?”

“His father. And his father-”

“Whose father?”

“George Rinsington’s.”

“Oh.”

“His father told him-”

“Told who?”

“Told George.”

“George Weasley?”

Draco glared at the twins. They stared innocently back at him. ’Don’t let them get to you. That’s what they want. To see you break down. Just continue calmly.’
“No, George Rinsington.”

“Oh!”

“And he was told-”

“George told him?” queried Fred.

“No, his father told George.”

“Oh!”

“He told him to be careful with his hatchet,” said Draco very fast, glad that he was able to say more than five words without being interrupted.

“What hatchet?”

“The hatchet that George’s father gave him.”

“Oh!”

“His father told him not to cut himself with it, or drop it in the water tank, or leave it out in the grass all night.” Draco paused, involuntarily waiting for a disturbance. When none came he continued, “So George went around cutting everything he could reach and at last he came to a splendid apple tree, his father’s favourite, and cut it down.”

“Who cut it down?”

“George.”

“Oh!”

“But his father came home and saw it the first thing and said-”

“Saw the hatchet?”

“No, saw the apple tree. And he said, ‘Who has cut down my favourite apple tree?’”

“What apple tree?”

“George’s father’s. And everybody said they didn’t know anything about it, and-”

“Anything about what?”

“The apple tree.”

“Oh!”

“And George came up and heard them talking about it-”

“Heard who talking about it?”

“His father and the men.”

“What were they talking about?”

“About this apple tree.”

“What apple tree?”

Draco seriously considered strangling them with his bare hands. He wondered why their parents hadn’t done so at birth. It was people like them who made it impossible for there to be World Peace.

“What apple tree?” repeated George, grinning at the look on Draco’s face.

“The favourite tree that George cut down.”

“What did he cut it down for?”

“Just to try his little hatchet.”

“Whose little hatchet?”

“George’s.”

“Oh!”

“So George came up and said, ‘Father, I cannot tell a lie. I-”

“His father couldn’t tell a lie from the truth?”

“No! Georrge said he couldn’t tell a lie.”

“Oh! George!”

“He said-”

“Who?”

“GEORGE!”

“Oh!”

“George said, ‘It was I who cut down your apple tree-”

“His father did?”

“No, it was George who said this.”

“Said he cut his father?”

‘Keep calm, Draco. You don’t want to be admitted in St.Mungo’s, do you? Think of Ginny. Remember her? Your wife-to-be? Well, she won’t be your wife if you deprive her of two brothers. Well maybe she would, but why risk being sent to Azkaban?’ He closed his eyes, counted till 10 and continued, “No; said he cut down the apple tree.”

“George’s apple tree?”

“No, his father’s.”

“Oh!”

He said-”

“His father said?”

“George said, ‘Father, it was I who cut down the apple tree. I did it with my hatchet.’ And his father said, ‘Noble boy, I would rather lose a 1000 apple trees than have you tell a lie.’”

“George did?”

“No; his father said that.”

“Said he’d rather have a 1000 apple trees?”

“No, he said he’d rather lose 1000 apple trees than have his son lie.”

“Said he’d rather have his son die than lose 1000 apple trees?”

If Ginny hadn’t arrived at that critical moment, Draco would probably be spending his days in Azkaban serving a charge of double murder.

He grinned maniacally as he saw Ginny advance towards the twins with a look which a basilisk might give to its prey before devouring it.

“And the moral of the story is, ‘Behind every vengeful man is a red-haired witch!’”