He Has Too Many Jobs, Damnit
"Son estos tus suegros, Draco?" The woman asked, gesturing towards a Fred glaring and the rest of his family.
"Sí," He nodded and said with a smile, "Todos tenemos bastante hambre, pensé que iríamos de compras a la plaza más tarde."
"Ah, ya veo. Vamos a sentarlos y alimentarlos, entonces." The curly haired woman said with a toothy smile as she began to walk away further into the restaurant.
Draco turned to the rest of them and motioned for them to follow, all of them easily complying with the smell of promised food in the air.
The inside of the restaurant was fancy, candle lit tables everywhere, roses decorating the cealing and walls. Even the people who ate there looked fancy and rich, like Malfoy rich. All stuck up and snobby, picking at the food and saying how exotic it was. Weird looks followed the family as they passed, judgement clear as day on their faces.
'Dobbers.', Fred though as he followed Draco's form to a door that clearly had the words, 'No Entrar, Solo Personal.'
And Fred didn't understand a lick of Spanish, but he had seen and ignored enough 'Do Not Enter' signs to know one when he sees one.
Nevertheless, he and his family shrugged as the followed Draco and the woman through the door and into what looked to be a real hole in the wall dive bar. It was the complete opposite from the restaurant they just went through. The floors were sticky, the booth and table seats looked to be on their last legs, and there was a large group of what appeared to be drunk men in the corner all crowded around a moving painting.
The difference from one side of the door to the other was insane.
Instead of bright lighting and candles, they were met with a dark, almost damp room with blinking overhead lights that were almost offensive to look at. There weren't any fancy waiters, instead there was just a single man behind the bar, looking as if this was the only place he would ever want to be.
The woman led them over to a very large rap around booth with more than enough space for all of the.
The quickly turned to Draco while gesturing at the table. "Cuántos personas comerán?" She asked.
"Once." He answered, before she quickly walked past the man in the bar and to the backroom behind it.
"This is where we're sitting, if you all don't mind." Draco said as he turned to them with a hesitant smile.
Mrs. Weasley shrugged and began sliding into the booth. "Ah donnae mind, dearie. Ah was worried for a minute ya were takin' us t' a real fancy restauran'- no' tha' it would be a bad thing, jus' no' really dressed for it."
Mr. Weasley followed after her, sitting on the end of the booth next to her.
Anya and Akemi clambered onto the seats and walked all the way around the table, dropping to their knees beside Mrs. Weasley so that they could still see to eat.
Everybody else followed after the girls, Hermione and Ron, than Ginny and Harry, followed by George so that Fred could sit next to Draco, who was opposite of Mr. Weasley on the end of the booth.
By the time they were all seated and content, the pretty woman walked back out with eleven rewashable drinking cups I'm hand, along with a note pad and a stick of wood with a pink tip on one side and a black tip on the other... Weird.
She set all the cups down with an audible 'clunk', before dropping the notepad in Draco's lap and saying while walking towards the door opposite the one they came in, "Diviértete tomando pedidos, estoy de descanso." She said with a flip of her hair.
Draco rolled his eyes and called after her, "Paloma, acabo de salir del trabajo!"
She shrugged as she started walking backwards before she exited the door. "Lo siento, primo. Mi hermano tiene una obra de teatro escolar hoy y le prometí que sería su." She said as she left.
Draco groaned and slumped back in his seat, reaching his hands up to his face to massage his temples before his migraine exploded his head off his shoulders.
"...So... Ya know Spanish?" Mr. Weasley questioned Draco after a tense second.
"Yeah," He responded. "Knew Spanish before I knew English."
Draco was still rubbing circles into his temples when Hermione asked, "How many languages do you know?"
"Five," Draco answered, removing his hands from his head to look her in the eyes. "If you count sign language."
"I do. Which languages and what order did you learn them in?" Hermione asked, practically on the edge of her seat. If she could learn a thousand new things a day, she would.
Draco gave a kind smile while counting on his fingers as he thought. "I learned Japanese, Spanish, and sign language at the same time, then I learned English and French."
"So ya grew up knowin' sign language? Why, if ya donnae mind me askin'?" Fred inquired, turning to face Draco, wanting to give him his full attention.
"Oh, I don't mind." Draco replied with a small smile. "I wan nonverbal until I was 5, so I had to rely on sign language to talk."
"Nonverbal?" Ginny questioned with a furrowed brow.
"It's a term that the doctors always used to describe me." He said as he shrugged. "I could understand what people were saying just fine, I just couldn't ever get the words out, couldn't talk."
"Was it hard?" Ron had asked out of nowhere. Everyone turned to him, not expecting the red head to actually be interested in the conversation.
He flushed under the attention. "Goin' ta school an' no' bein' able ta talk, Ah mean." Ron reiterated.
Draco nodded solemnly and looked at the table, as if keeping eye contact was suddenly harder for him.
"Yeah, it was." He said after a minute. "Used to get bullied alot, and the teachers either treated me like a lost cause or a kid genius when it came to grades-"
"Bu' you are a genius, Draco. Dad sai' so, and Dad doesn't lie, so it's true." Akemi suddenly cut in.
Draco chuckled and smiled over to her. "I'm not a genius, Akemi."
"Bu' you did the adul' math tha' Dad couldn't do." Anya responded.
"Well, yeah, I know how to do taxes."
"Bu' Dad couldn't do i', and Dad can do eve'ything. So you're a genius." Akemi explained.
Draco just rolled his eyes fondly and picked up the notepad that was dropped in his lap, seemingly done with the conversation.
"What does everyone want to drink?" He asked the family.
"... Why do you want ta ken?" Fred and George asked, turning in their seats to look at him.
"Oh, sorry."
Draco said while standing up and quickly making his way past the bar and into the doorway the woman had gone through. He returned not a minute later, tying a server's apron around his waist while walking back to the table. He stood in front of the table, hands clasped around the odd orange stick and the note pad, a guilty smile adorning his face.
"Hi, my name's Draco. What can I get for you lot today?" He said while making direct eye contact with Fred.
Fred couldn't help it if he lost his shit.