Written for Valentine's Day 2012 Challenge Prompt 4
Title: This Day Can’t Get Any Worse
Author: crissytje
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1499
Notes/Warning: Contains mild coarse language. Very mild sexual insinuation, though if you don't get it, you are too young to. The prompts were romance, diamands and Knight Bus.
He didn’t think his day could get any worse. Valentine’s day was definitely going to be his most hated day from now on. He cursed when things swayed before his eyes and he had to hold onto a lamppost to avoid falling to the ground. Maybe that last shot of Firewhiskey was one too many. No. The fact that he could still think this coherently meant he hadn’t had nearly enough even though he was having a lot of trouble just standing straight. He should just have stayed in bed when his alarm clock had decided that today was the best day to retire after eight years of loyal service. Or maybe instead of being a bad omen, his loyal alarm clock had been trying to warn him of his terrible day to come. Because it certainly hadn’t gotten any better.
Not only had he almost gotten his nose bitten off by his cranky boss because of his tardiness, though to be fair he had most certainly bitten back. But in his haste to only be very fashionable late instead of very late, he had not noticed the yoghurt stain on his perfect robes, probably from a leftover on the chair where he and Hermione had had some food-foreplay yesterday evening. He had only noticed it when he was walking to his desk with his back to his colleague’s and all of them began either snickering or blushing furiously and snickering. To his biggest horror, not only did he have a stain on his perfect robes, which he has never had by the way, but the stain awfully looked a lot like another kind of whitish stain that roughens up a fabric. If you don’t know what kind of stain, you’re too young to know. If Malfoys blushed, he would have. If Malfoys were embarrassed, he would have been. If Malfoy were distressed, he definitely most certainly would have been. But fortunately for him, Malfoys were not all that and so he had sneered at them and told them to bugger off. He had even succeeded in insulting each and every one in the process too. He had thought about tonight and it calmed him, Hermione would make it all better, he just knew it. After that, things got much worse.
The roses he had send to Hermione, anonymous of course, courtesy of the non-interoffice romance policy, had turned out to be a rose casket spray. How stupid was that cow from the flower shop to have accidentally switched two orders. He was never going there again. Ever. The look on her face was utter mortification, and of course he hadn’t found the courage to confess it was send by him. Technically it was send by the shop so technically it wasn’t his fault even if he was the one that chose the wrong flower shop to order from. He promised himself he would tell her after she had said yes and then he was certain they would laugh about it.
At lunch, the fates had decided once again to mess with him, he didn’t know how it happened, nor had he seen it coming but somehow he had stumbled. He’s never stumbled! Malfoys have never stumbled! Malfoys have also never stumbled into their secret girlfriend pushing her face into her plate of mushed carrots and potatoes. He was sure all the blood that had drained from his face had gone straight to hers because her face was tomato red or better carrot red literally, from fury and embarrassment. He had apologized profoundly after scourgifying her and had whispered a promise to make up for it tonight. He was so sorry. He made the promise to himself too after she had nodded curtly, her lips thinned and had turned around to walk away without her lunch.
He was so nervous for the rest of the day that he couldn’t get any work done. Just when he finally thought things were looking up for him he realized he had lost the ring. The platinum ring with an emerald stone as center stone surrounded by a ring of leaf-shaped diamonds that he had personally picked out for her was gone. Gone! He had looked everywhere in the Manor, in every little nook or slit, under furniture, on the floor, in the garden, he had even asked the house-elves their help but it was nowhere to be found. Gone. Vanished into thin air. How was that even possible? But it didn’t matter he tried to think optimistically, he would just meet with Hermione at the restaurant, pretend he hadn’t intended to propose tonight and get another ring another time. Yes, good idea. That was even more romantic. Don’t panic. Malfoys don’t panic damn it! Why was he acting so un-Malfoy today.
When the restaurant floo-ed thirty minutes after he’d decided his new game plan, he was just in the middle of dressing himself. Of course the restaurant had made an error and had overbooked by accident. Just his luck. He was ready to scream and pull at his hair. Where the hell did all the competent people go today. Was there a freakin’ brain eating zombie on the loose that he did not know about? He almost hexed the poor messenger right there on the spot. He should have, it certainly would have made him feel better. Finally after three threats, five almost hexes and one very big bribe, he got his table back.
Normally a day like that couldn’t get any worse he had thought. He couldn’t have been more wrong. The secret girlfriend that he had accidentally send a casket spray to, had accidentally pushed into her lunch, had planned to propose to but had lost the ring for had stood him up. Not that he faulted her actually. But that didn’t make it any less painful. He was dumped, had been left alone for three hours surrounded by happy sappy couples on Valentine’s day. That alone was reason enough to get thoroughly plastered.
He sighted
He needed to get home and wallow there further in self-pity before anyone he knew or most probably anyone who knew him noticed him here undignified and absolutely drunk out his mind. He didn’t care right now but he would in the morning and that prompted him another step forward. Too drunk to apparate, too drunk to even floo, so why the hell wasn’t he too drunk to forget. He reached out again to the lamppost to steady himself but missed and his wand hand was left hanging in the air while he tried his utmost best to regain his balance. Suddenly the sky rumbled and in an eye blink, the clouds opened up and rain fell down like there was no tomorrow.
“What the hell? You’ve got to be kidding me.” He swore fervently. This had to be a nightmare. He was dreaming right? He was going to be awakened by a kiss by Hermione anytime now because it was not possible anyone’s day could be this horrible right? In a matter of seconds he was soaked to the bone and laughing in that I-Must-Be-Fucking-Losing-My-Mind-Oh-Wait-I-Already-Have kind of manner. And that was how Stan found him, wet hair plastered against his chilled white skin, laughing hysterically and on the verge of sinking to his knees in the middle of the street right in front of the barely stopped on time Knight Bus.
“Good evening Sir, my name is Stan Shunpike, I will be your conductor tonight. Are you going to get on?” The young man asked uncertainly. “Wait, don’t I know you? You seem kind of familiar.” The young man gasped. “Malfoy” The man seemed much more certain. “Yes, I know you, oh Merlin's beard, you’re Draco Mal-“
“No.” He moaned. “Please, Hermione, now, please, kiss me now. Wake me now. Please.” He knew he sounded pathetic but he didn’t care. This was a dream anyway, it didn’t matter if he sounded pathetic, it wasn’t real anyway. What mattered now was waking up. He had had all the humiliation he could handle for one day, no, for a lifetime.
The young man carefully helped him up and on the bus. It was probable out of pity but he didn’t care. He just didn’t care anymore. Maybe the alcohol was finally dulling his senses now.
***
He woke up to a very pissed of Hermione next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and fury in her eyes.
“Where the hell were you yesterday?”
Huh?
“I waited all night for you! Naked!”
“Where were you?” He rasped. His head hurt like hell. “Wait, naked?”
“What do you mean where was I, we agreed to spent Valentine at my place remember?”
“No, didn’t you get my letter? I had a surprise-” Something was wrong here.
“What letter? What are you talking about?
Flowers. Check.
Ring. Check but lost.
Dressing up. Check
Restaurant. Bribed but check.
Sent change-of-plan letter to Hermione. Oh bugger.
Author: crissytje
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1499
Notes/Warning: Contains mild coarse language. Very mild sexual insinuation, though if you don't get it, you are too young to. The prompts were romance, diamands and Knight Bus.
He didn’t think his day could get any worse. Valentine’s day was definitely going to be his most hated day from now on. He cursed when things swayed before his eyes and he had to hold onto a lamppost to avoid falling to the ground. Maybe that last shot of Firewhiskey was one too many. No. The fact that he could still think this coherently meant he hadn’t had nearly enough even though he was having a lot of trouble just standing straight. He should just have stayed in bed when his alarm clock had decided that today was the best day to retire after eight years of loyal service. Or maybe instead of being a bad omen, his loyal alarm clock had been trying to warn him of his terrible day to come. Because it certainly hadn’t gotten any better.
Not only had he almost gotten his nose bitten off by his cranky boss because of his tardiness, though to be fair he had most certainly bitten back. But in his haste to only be very fashionable late instead of very late, he had not noticed the yoghurt stain on his perfect robes, probably from a leftover on the chair where he and Hermione had had some food-foreplay yesterday evening. He had only noticed it when he was walking to his desk with his back to his colleague’s and all of them began either snickering or blushing furiously and snickering. To his biggest horror, not only did he have a stain on his perfect robes, which he has never had by the way, but the stain awfully looked a lot like another kind of whitish stain that roughens up a fabric. If you don’t know what kind of stain, you’re too young to know. If Malfoys blushed, he would have. If Malfoys were embarrassed, he would have been. If Malfoy were distressed, he definitely most certainly would have been. But fortunately for him, Malfoys were not all that and so he had sneered at them and told them to bugger off. He had even succeeded in insulting each and every one in the process too. He had thought about tonight and it calmed him, Hermione would make it all better, he just knew it. After that, things got much worse.
The roses he had send to Hermione, anonymous of course, courtesy of the non-interoffice romance policy, had turned out to be a rose casket spray. How stupid was that cow from the flower shop to have accidentally switched two orders. He was never going there again. Ever. The look on her face was utter mortification, and of course he hadn’t found the courage to confess it was send by him. Technically it was send by the shop so technically it wasn’t his fault even if he was the one that chose the wrong flower shop to order from. He promised himself he would tell her after she had said yes and then he was certain they would laugh about it.
At lunch, the fates had decided once again to mess with him, he didn’t know how it happened, nor had he seen it coming but somehow he had stumbled. He’s never stumbled! Malfoys have never stumbled! Malfoys have also never stumbled into their secret girlfriend pushing her face into her plate of mushed carrots and potatoes. He was sure all the blood that had drained from his face had gone straight to hers because her face was tomato red or better carrot red literally, from fury and embarrassment. He had apologized profoundly after scourgifying her and had whispered a promise to make up for it tonight. He was so sorry. He made the promise to himself too after she had nodded curtly, her lips thinned and had turned around to walk away without her lunch.
He was so nervous for the rest of the day that he couldn’t get any work done. Just when he finally thought things were looking up for him he realized he had lost the ring. The platinum ring with an emerald stone as center stone surrounded by a ring of leaf-shaped diamonds that he had personally picked out for her was gone. Gone! He had looked everywhere in the Manor, in every little nook or slit, under furniture, on the floor, in the garden, he had even asked the house-elves their help but it was nowhere to be found. Gone. Vanished into thin air. How was that even possible? But it didn’t matter he tried to think optimistically, he would just meet with Hermione at the restaurant, pretend he hadn’t intended to propose tonight and get another ring another time. Yes, good idea. That was even more romantic. Don’t panic. Malfoys don’t panic damn it! Why was he acting so un-Malfoy today.
When the restaurant floo-ed thirty minutes after he’d decided his new game plan, he was just in the middle of dressing himself. Of course the restaurant had made an error and had overbooked by accident. Just his luck. He was ready to scream and pull at his hair. Where the hell did all the competent people go today. Was there a freakin’ brain eating zombie on the loose that he did not know about? He almost hexed the poor messenger right there on the spot. He should have, it certainly would have made him feel better. Finally after three threats, five almost hexes and one very big bribe, he got his table back.
Normally a day like that couldn’t get any worse he had thought. He couldn’t have been more wrong. The secret girlfriend that he had accidentally send a casket spray to, had accidentally pushed into her lunch, had planned to propose to but had lost the ring for had stood him up. Not that he faulted her actually. But that didn’t make it any less painful. He was dumped, had been left alone for three hours surrounded by happy sappy couples on Valentine’s day. That alone was reason enough to get thoroughly plastered.
He sighted
He needed to get home and wallow there further in self-pity before anyone he knew or most probably anyone who knew him noticed him here undignified and absolutely drunk out his mind. He didn’t care right now but he would in the morning and that prompted him another step forward. Too drunk to apparate, too drunk to even floo, so why the hell wasn’t he too drunk to forget. He reached out again to the lamppost to steady himself but missed and his wand hand was left hanging in the air while he tried his utmost best to regain his balance. Suddenly the sky rumbled and in an eye blink, the clouds opened up and rain fell down like there was no tomorrow.
“What the hell? You’ve got to be kidding me.” He swore fervently. This had to be a nightmare. He was dreaming right? He was going to be awakened by a kiss by Hermione anytime now because it was not possible anyone’s day could be this horrible right? In a matter of seconds he was soaked to the bone and laughing in that I-Must-Be-Fucking-Losing-My-Mind-Oh-Wait-I-Already-Have kind of manner. And that was how Stan found him, wet hair plastered against his chilled white skin, laughing hysterically and on the verge of sinking to his knees in the middle of the street right in front of the barely stopped on time Knight Bus.
“Good evening Sir, my name is Stan Shunpike, I will be your conductor tonight. Are you going to get on?” The young man asked uncertainly. “Wait, don’t I know you? You seem kind of familiar.” The young man gasped. “Malfoy” The man seemed much more certain. “Yes, I know you, oh Merlin's beard, you’re Draco Mal-“
“No.” He moaned. “Please, Hermione, now, please, kiss me now. Wake me now. Please.” He knew he sounded pathetic but he didn’t care. This was a dream anyway, it didn’t matter if he sounded pathetic, it wasn’t real anyway. What mattered now was waking up. He had had all the humiliation he could handle for one day, no, for a lifetime.
The young man carefully helped him up and on the bus. It was probable out of pity but he didn’t care. He just didn’t care anymore. Maybe the alcohol was finally dulling his senses now.
***
He woke up to a very pissed of Hermione next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and fury in her eyes.
“Where the hell were you yesterday?”
Huh?
“I waited all night for you! Naked!”
“Where were you?” He rasped. His head hurt like hell. “Wait, naked?”
“What do you mean where was I, we agreed to spent Valentine at my place remember?”
“No, didn’t you get my letter? I had a surprise-” Something was wrong here.
“What letter? What are you talking about?
Flowers. Check.
Ring. Check but lost.
Dressing up. Check
Restaurant. Bribed but check.
Sent change-of-plan letter to Hermione. Oh bugger.