![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookishwenchThis was my response to last week's challenge, namely having the drabble take place during a surprise birthday party that Draco gives Hermione. To be honest, I had quite a bit of trouble with it, at least in part because I'm planning a different birthday party for Hermione in a different fic, and one's mood kept intruding on the other. Anyway, here tis.
Title: Let Them Eat Cake… Then Leave
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 498
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended by this work, nor is any monetary profit made from it. All characters are created by J. K. Rowling.
Draco stood at the door of their flat, waving as the last guest disappeared into the lift. Immediately afterwards, his face fell from its plastered-on smile to a look of deep mortification.
“Merlin, what a mess,” he muttered, shutting the door.
Hermione was still in the bathroom, and from the sound of swearing mixed with the running tap, she wasn’t having any luck getting Hagrid’s vomit off her shoes. Apparently, part-giant stomach bile was impervious to magic.
Draco looked at the scene of devastation. Three figurines were broken, his favorite chair had a gigantic smear of vanilla frosting on the seat, and the Potters’ youngest had somehow gotten ice cream on the ceiling. All of that would have been bad enough, but the true damage came from his insanely stupid idea of inviting his parents to Hermione’s surprise birthday party.
Draco had hoped (stupidly, he repeated to himself) that after he and Hermione eloped his parents would eventually accept her. She had urged him to invite his mother and father for dinner soon, though he knew she suggested it because she could tell the estrangement was making him unhappy. He’d thought (stupidly, he silently repeated yet again) his parents would behave civilly since the party was in Hermione’s honor. In retrospect, he supposed he probably shouldn’t have lied to them by neglecting to mention the party at all and saying Hermione was out of town to get them there.
“Stupid,” he said aloud as he cleaned the frosting off the chair.
He couldn’t decide which was worse: his father’s look of pained resignation at sitting between Potter and Weasley or his mother’s comments about the cleanliness of the house, Hermione’s appearance, Hermione’s fashion sense, Draco being too thin because of Hermione’s cooking, and of course, Hermione’s lack of Pureblood decorum, all hidden under a veneer of hypocritical concern.
At least his mother had been the one to sit in the frosting… not that he’d felt the need to tell her about the enormous stain across her bum. Good riddance.
“I should have just taken her out to dinner,” he said, directing his wand towards the ceiling only to have ice cream land on his head.
“It was a good try,” Hermione said as she wrapped her arms around him from behind, laying her head on his shoulder.
“You know the best thing about this party?” he asked as he turned to give her an apologetic kiss.
“No one died?”
“No,” he said with a grimace. “That it’s over.”
“Oh no, it’s not,” she said, smiling slyly. “There’s one more present to unwrap. My favorite one, as it happens.”
“Is that so?” he said with an answering grin.
“Yes, and it should be in the bedroom in a few seconds,” she said, disappearing through the door. “Coming?”
A moment later, her shirt hit him in the face.
“Most untidy. Someone needs a birthday spanking,” he called out, following her.
Yes, he thought, this party was a very smart idea.
Title: Let Them Eat Cake… Then Leave
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 498
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended by this work, nor is any monetary profit made from it. All characters are created by J. K. Rowling.
Draco stood at the door of their flat, waving as the last guest disappeared into the lift. Immediately afterwards, his face fell from its plastered-on smile to a look of deep mortification.
“Merlin, what a mess,” he muttered, shutting the door.
Hermione was still in the bathroom, and from the sound of swearing mixed with the running tap, she wasn’t having any luck getting Hagrid’s vomit off her shoes. Apparently, part-giant stomach bile was impervious to magic.
Draco looked at the scene of devastation. Three figurines were broken, his favorite chair had a gigantic smear of vanilla frosting on the seat, and the Potters’ youngest had somehow gotten ice cream on the ceiling. All of that would have been bad enough, but the true damage came from his insanely stupid idea of inviting his parents to Hermione’s surprise birthday party.
Draco had hoped (stupidly, he repeated to himself) that after he and Hermione eloped his parents would eventually accept her. She had urged him to invite his mother and father for dinner soon, though he knew she suggested it because she could tell the estrangement was making him unhappy. He’d thought (stupidly, he silently repeated yet again) his parents would behave civilly since the party was in Hermione’s honor. In retrospect, he supposed he probably shouldn’t have lied to them by neglecting to mention the party at all and saying Hermione was out of town to get them there.
“Stupid,” he said aloud as he cleaned the frosting off the chair.
He couldn’t decide which was worse: his father’s look of pained resignation at sitting between Potter and Weasley or his mother’s comments about the cleanliness of the house, Hermione’s appearance, Hermione’s fashion sense, Draco being too thin because of Hermione’s cooking, and of course, Hermione’s lack of Pureblood decorum, all hidden under a veneer of hypocritical concern.
At least his mother had been the one to sit in the frosting… not that he’d felt the need to tell her about the enormous stain across her bum. Good riddance.
“I should have just taken her out to dinner,” he said, directing his wand towards the ceiling only to have ice cream land on his head.
“It was a good try,” Hermione said as she wrapped her arms around him from behind, laying her head on his shoulder.
“You know the best thing about this party?” he asked as he turned to give her an apologetic kiss.
“No one died?”
“No,” he said with a grimace. “That it’s over.”
“Oh no, it’s not,” she said, smiling slyly. “There’s one more present to unwrap. My favorite one, as it happens.”
“Is that so?” he said with an answering grin.
“Yes, and it should be in the bedroom in a few seconds,” she said, disappearing through the door. “Coming?”
A moment later, her shirt hit him in the face.
“Most untidy. Someone needs a birthday spanking,” he called out, following her.
Yes, he thought, this party was a very smart idea.
