Round 6, Challenge #2: Voting
Confused about which fork to use? Generally speaking, you start with the outermost one, and work your way in. Don’t forget to put your napkin in your lap … It’s time for the week two Feast of Love!
Welcome all to the sumptuous 11 course meal of "All happiness."
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Please remember writers, that you may not vote for yourselves.
Here we go for week two!
Choose your favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote.
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, February 26.
All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast. ~John Gunther
1
Title: Ten minutes till breakfast!
Author: hathorx
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 495
There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Hermione? You awake?” Harry called from the other side. “Ginny wants everyone downstairs in ten. She made pancakes.”
Hermione’s eyes snapped open.
“I’ll be right there,” she cried out, looking down with wide eyes at the blond sleeping beside her and whose arm was tightly wrapped around her waist.
Craaap! She thought to herself, trying to remember how last night’s celebrations with her friends had led her to bed the one man, she’d secretly been crushing on for months.
Pansy, shockingly, had decided to throw a surprise birthday party for her co-worker, Ginny, at her country home. Luna had taken care of decorations, Dean had cooked, Ron had brought lots of alcohol and Harry had kept Ginny away.
Malfoy, it seemed, had only brought himself in a dashing charcoal-grey suit.
The rest of the evening was mostly a blur.
Untangling herself from Malfoy’s tight grip, Hermione quickly hit the showers, decided to head down to breakfast before her friends suspected anything.
--
Minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom and froze. Malfoy was awake and was currently standing before her wearing nothing but his trousers.
“Harry wants us downstairs for breakfast,” Hermione blurted out as she tried to keep her eyes off his naked chest.
“I heard him,” Malfoy said indifferently, slipping his shirt back on.
Hermione felt her heart sink upon the realisation that she was probably just another conquest to him.
“Draco,” she began, trying her best not to sound disappointed. “About last night, we should probably forget -”
But she was cut short by his lips suddenly pressed on her own.
“I don’t want to forget about last night, Granger, and neither do you.” He smirked, lightly dragging his thumb across her lips.
She smiled in response and kissed him back.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” he finally told her.
-
Rushing about to get dressed, all the while feeling her insides melt as she remembered Draco’s words, Hermione finally made it to breakfast.
Greeting her friends before sitting down beside Draco at the table, she noticed the freshly made pancakes in her plate and nearly drooled.
Nothing could possibly ruin her morning now, she thought, as she picked up the maple syrup. She was going to savour her breakfast as she should - it was, after all, the most important meal of the day - then she would spend the day with her friends and somehow convince Draco to spend the night at hers.
Although judging by his hand subtly caressing her thigh, she realised he probably wouldn’t need any convincing at all.
Hermione’s happy thoughts, however, were suddenly interrupted by Ginny’s outburst. “Hermione, is that a hickey on your neck?”
All conversations around the table abruptly ceased.
Hermione was at a loss for words again while Draco didn’t bat an eye.
“Well,” Harry added, obviously amused by the situation, “I guess that explains why no one answered earlier when I knocked at Malfoy’s door.”
2
Title: Breakfast En Famille
Author: vox_rowan
Rating: G
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 435
I whimpered slightly.
“It’s for the best, dear,” Mrs. Weasley murmured softly, patting my hand before she turned away to move calmly around the kitchen of our flat, her tatty robes incongruous with its sleek, modern fixtures of steel and granite.
Draco leaned against the countertop across from me, one leg casually crossed in front of the other. Crookshanks was in the corner defeating a particularly vicious dust bunny. They wore disconcertingly similar expressions.
“I’m fine with tea in the mornings, Draco! You have no idea what it’s li-“
But I’d already lost my husband. He was too busy making cooing noises at the sizeable bump where my waist used to live.
“That’s right… Daddy’s going to make sure you grow up niiiiceee and strong. That way you can be a Seeker and beat Potter and his gang of red-haired terrors alllll over the Quidditch field. Yes you will. Yes you will!”
He was smart enough to murmur this well below the hearing range of Molly Weasley, who was making a frightful ruckus on the cook top.
Half an hour later I was firmly seated at the small table which occupied our breakfast nook. The delicate piece had been rescued from an antiques shop in Paris and I could hear it groaning underneath the barbaric scope of the traditional English fry-up: baked beans, sausages, tomatoes, kippers… Our child would die of clogged arteries before he got his first wand.
“There now, dear. We’ll fatten you right up and get your strength back, won’t we? Good, home-cooking. Exactly what the mediwizard ordered.”
“Actually he told me not to overdo it while I’m on bed rest-“ But Molly Weasley had already sailed magnificently out, her mission accomplished, leaving me alone with the Slytherin that I’d decided to marry for reasons which currently escaped me.
“Is it going to be like this every morning?” I sighed.
Draco grinned at me, “You’re the one who insisted upon a House Elf-free establishment. And I’m not going to let my wife waste away while she’s stuck at home for three months.”
“You could just learn to cook,” I groused, spearing what appeared to be the least greasy of the tomato pieces with my fork.
“In due time. But for now I can think of nothing more perfect than having a nice, relaxing breakfast with my pretty wife and our baby.”
“Accompanied by about ten pounds of excess protein,” I muttered. But a moment later I smiled at him and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. After all, even the most plotting of Slytherins have their sweet moments.
3
Title: Breakfast In Bed
Author: hpfangirl71
Rating: R
Warning(s): brief mention of nakedness, implied sex, and blatant seduction.
Word Count: 331
Draco rolled over within the pale white sheets of his bed; surprised by the apparent emptiness beside him. In a sleepy haze, he sat up and looked around the brightly lit room. A moment later, Hermione entered carrying a large tray of food.
“I didn’t think you’d have awakened yet.” she spoke to him as she laid the tray down on the nearby vanity table.
“Did you make us breakfast?” he questioned her.
“Yes, and don’t look so surprised” she said with a playful chuckle of admonishment.
He looked up at her and pondered at how this lovely woman was his. She had a beautiful smile, as bright as the sunlight shining through the window. He loved waking up to it in the mornings.
“Come here and have some breakfast.” she said sweetly to him.
“Why don’t you come here and have breakfast?” he retorted naughtily to her.
“Draco… A well known American journalist, John Gunther once said; “All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast.” so you really should get out of bed and eat.” she droned on in that encyclopedic voice she used when relaying useless information.
Draco crawled to the edge of the bed, letting the sheets fall aside to reveal his nakedness from beneath them. He looked at her with a sensual look of desire and need within his eyes.
“Well your Mr. John Gunther never said that breakfast had to be food, now did he?”
He arched an eyebrow at her questioningly and he saw her relenting as she shook her head in a chuckle.
“You really are incorrigible!” she half-heartedly admonished him.
She walked up to him, letting her hand caress his face. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her down to him so his lips could capture hers. She pushed herself down onto his body and returned his kiss with a passionate fervor that only he could produce within her. She hungered for him and he hungered for her, their bodies truly needed this leisurely “breakfast”.
4
Title: Most Important Meal of the Day
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 440
The morning after their wedding, Hermione stared across the breakfast table at her new husband with a mixture of mild disgust and grudging admiration written across her face.
“Do you do this every day?” she asked, her words colored with disbelief.
Draco paused in his incessant shoveling of food from his heavily laden breakfast plate to his mouth long enough to throw her a confused look.
“What? Eat breakfast? Yeah, usually,” he said, his fork spearing potatoes with the same speed as her mother’s sewing machine needle went through fabric.
“Not that,” she said, barely smothering a laugh. “Do you normally plow through breakfast with quite this amount of, well, insane gusto?”
“Please,” Draco said, rolling his eyes between bites of kipper. “You lived with Weasley in that blasted tent for months. Every morning must have been like watching someone slop the hogs!”
“Not really,” Hermione admitted. “Food was stretched pretty thin.”
“Maybe, but I saw him eat back in the Great Hall. The Slytherins used to place bets on how many fried eggs that boy would down,” Draco said, gesturing with his spoon and whipping a small spot of oatmeal onto the tablecloth in the process. “No one ever bet fewer than six.”
“But even Ron never ate this quickly,” Hermione said. “If speed eating were an Olympic sport, you’d be bordering on the gold medal and a world record into the bargain.”
“What’s an Olympics?” Draco asked from around a bite of ham.
“International Muggle competition,” Hermione explained. “You’ve got a bit of pudding on your nose, by the way.”
Draco immediately dabbed at the offending mess, looking embarrassed.
“Sorry,” he said. “I guess I am rushing a bit.”
“Oh, just a tad,” Hermione said sarcastically. “What’s the hurry? Afraid I’m going to steal your tomatoes?”
“No, though that could be grounds for divorce. I’m just intent on resuming other activities as quickly as possible, preferably with plenty of energy,” he said, casting a meaningful glance back towards the bedroom.
Hermione laughed and continued eating her grapefruit half. After she took a couple more bites, though, she glanced up to find Draco’s expression was strained. In fact, he was looking rather green.
“Are you all right?” she asked, laying down her spoon in concern.
He shook his head, then lurched to the balcony of their honeymoon suite and promptly vomited into the shrubbery below.
Draco did indeed spend the rest of the day in bed, but not exactly as he had hoped, groaning and clutching a bottle of Daggle’s Dyspepsia Distillation. From that day on, Hermione noted that her husband ate breakfast at a far more leisurely pace.
5
Title: Demanding Satisfaction
Author: terrayn
Rating: PG
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 498
She was absolute rubbish at cooking.
That first month, he would roll out of her bed and start the tea while she rummaged through creaky cupboards, no woman ever needed a house-elf more, to pull out knives and jams and crusty bagels, offering it to him with a sheepish smile that said, well, it's the thought that counts, right?
Draco disagreed, but told her, "I'll take apricot."
Then he'd Floo back to Malfoy Manor, vast clean empty, and find toast, cod steak, stewed fruit and boiled egg laid out for him in chromatic symmetry on his desk, the Prophet beside perfectly brewed tea. It never took a second longer than the walk to his study for his unseen, unheard house-elves to deliver the bounty.
The second month, he invited her to stay the night at the Manor.
She lowered her eyes, exhaled slowly, and nodded so casually he knew she'd been expecting it, had long coached herself into practiced acquiescence. He read in that splinter of a moment rejection of the face he wore for everyone else, son heir pride, and in that mad instant, wanted to punish her for presuming to know him, for daring to strip him naked, no wealth or titles-what good was he as only a man?
He fell into irrational anger, plied her with enough wine that by night's end she was staggering, and ravaged her in the Malfoy ancestral bed. In the morning, there were two identical trays at the foot of the bed, as though the presence of another person glitched the smooth machinery of his invisible kitchens and it spat out two of everything in sheer frustration.
She looked at the laden trays and turned to him, amused, smiling softly. "So that's why you're always tearing out in the morning."
Shame battered his composure, shredding the careful nonchalance he'd planned to show her. "I'm sorry," he said instead, voice thick. "It wasn't about me, was it?"
"Only a little," she said, looking away, eyes distant. "Mostly, I didn't want to remember that night, with Bellatrix, in your drawing room."
She could've have said, your aunt, but she didn't. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
She stroked the inside of his left wrist, tracing the curled black scar. "You will be," she said at last, crumbling the tension, "if you ever go medieval Lord of the Manor on me again."
He arched a brow. "Oh, is that what deafening me with yes, yes meant?"
On the first day of the third month, he dropped a stack of recipe books on her kitchen counter and two trunks in her closet.
"The only thing worse than your-and I hesitate to even call it-cooking is eating alone," he told her, affecting the pompous air that drove her mad. "If we're going to try this happiness thing, I'm bringing you up to scratch."
Hermione threw a dishrag at him, and then hauled him down by the lapels into a fierce kiss, hard soft everything.
6
Title: Opaque Rays
Author: spadul
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Sexual innuendo, shirtless Draco, etc.
Word Count: 499, yikes.
Draco wakes up to a thick stream of sunlight blinding him with its opaque rays. He squints his eyes for a few moments, calculating. He sinks further into the bed, noting the absence beside him, and smirks to himself as he inhales tiredly. His legs flex, and he slowly rights himself, his bare feet landing on the hardwood.
He pads softly down the hall, and stops as he reaches the doorway. He sees something that warms the ice inside of him, something that is no comparison to the meagerly heated grasp of the sun. His smirk deepens, and he folds his arms across his bare chest as he leans against the wooden doorframe with his pants slung low on his hips.
“Granger,” he acknowledges, and she spins around quickly, a spatula in her hand and a wide, surprised smile turned up on her lips. Her grin turns coy as her cheeks tint red, her eyes lost in memory, and she turns back to face the oven. She’s wearing nothing more than a white undershirt and a miniscule pair of pants that barely cover her buttocks, and it’s almost as if she senses where his line of vision is fixed, because she catches his eye a second later.
“I’m making pancakes.”
He nods. “I see that.” He takes a few long strides, until he is standing directly behind her. He tentatively lifts his hands, slowly moving his fingers as if to tempt them to reach out and touch her back, her waist, her sides. He drops his hands, but moves his face close to her ear. “But what if I don’t want pancakes?” His voice is low and gravely, and goosebumps break out across her neck.
She smiles to herself, a knowing smile, and clears her throat softly. “Well, what would you like instead?” Her voice nearly trembles.
“What do you have to offer?” He loses the battle with his hands, and they automatically reach for her hips. His thumbs rub lazy circles while she contemplates her answer.
She leans back into him, and nearly purrs with satisfaction at the heat radiating off his body. “Eggs?”
He shakes his head, his breaths fanning out on her neck. “Don’t think so.”
“Kippers, then.”
His hands leave her hips and trail up and under her shirt, his fingers leisurely spreading out across her smooth stomach. “No,” he whispers into her ear.
“Hmm,” she whispers back, because everything is so loud right now. “Bang,” she inhales sharply as his mouth captures her neck, “ers.” She clears her throat. “Bangers?”
He chuckles and turns her around in his arms. She fumbles for the fixtures, turning the stovetop off and tossing the spatula onto the counter.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he says slowly, as her hands explore his chest. He leans his head down as a contented hum passes his lips, and she meets his stare. “You know what I want, Granger.”
“That I do,” she admits slowly, and his lips capture hers.
7
Title: No breakfast makes Draco a moody boy.
Author: open_atclose
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Word Count: 406
Hermione walked into her office at the Ministry of Magic and before she could even sit down, Draco Malfoy strode in, an angry glare on his face, and threw a stack of paperwork down on her desk.
"I want these read over and filed before the end of the day," he said, the words sounding more like grunts than the English language, and the witch watched, her mouth gaping, as he strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
"Well somebody forgot to take their happiness potion today," Hermione muttered to the closed door, sitting down behind her desk slightly shaken. She was used to a certain amount of snark from Draco certainly, but that performance had just created a new record. Shaking her head, Hermione got stuck into the paperwork she'd been so violently delivered, not willing to see Draco any angrier.
The next morning, Hermione entered the staff tea room, a china cup clutched in her hands. Not paying much attention to what she was doing, the witch walked right into Draco, who had been standing in the doorway fumbling with a small, brightly wrapped package.
"Watch where you're going, Granger!" he snarled, whipping around and looking down at Hermione imperiously, the expression making her want to hit him in the nose again.
"Maybe if you didn't stand in the doorway like an idiot I wouldn't have walked into you," Hermione replied hotly. She glanced down at the chocolate Draco was struggling to open without much sympathy, and forgetting all about her quest for tea stalked out of the room.
Before she'd even had her ritual morning coffee, on Wednesday Hermione let herself into Draco's office and set down a plate of bacon, eggs and toast, still hot thanks to the Heating Charm. Draco looked up and raised his eyebrows arrogantly, and Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, nodding to the breakfast.
"I've figured out why you've been so snappy the last two days, Draco. You're obviously missing breakfast, and my mum always said that happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast, so here you are."
Draco sneered at Hermione, despite the tantalising smell of the feast in front of him, which he desperately wanted to tuck in to.
"What do you care about my happiness, Granger?"
"Not a fig," she replied, walking to the door before pausing and turning back to face him. "It's about my happiness, not yours."
8
Title: The Most Important Meal
Author: alexajohnson
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Innuendo
Word Count: 332
Hermione enjoys starting the day with a nice breakfast, but Draco never bothered to subscribe to this opinion.
If it weren’t for her, he would probably go to work without any breakfast at all, and she’s never understood how he can start his day with an empty stomach. She’s probably disappointing at least one feminist right now as she flips the strips of bacon over in the frying pan, but she actually loves cooking, and she loves cooking for him. It relaxes her and gives her time to think about her day, and besides, it’s far easier to make food for two than it is for one.
Draco shuffles into the kitchen, blinking bleary eyes at her. “Why are you standing in here when you could’ve had thirty more minutes in bed?”
“My day would be ruined if I didn’t start it with a meal. All happiness depends on is a leisurely breakfast, and after all it's the most important meal of the day. Weren’t you ever taught that?”
He’s so sneaky that she doesn’t even know he’s behind her until she feels hot breath and the faintest brush of lips against her neck and it takes all her willpower not to jump.
“Well I guess that depends on what it is you eat.” His low, husky voice makes her skin tingle with pleasure, even more so because she’s already anticipated what he’s about to say.
And of course he has to nibble her ear. “Or who.”
“You are too predictable, darling.”
His hand is already resting lightly on her thigh. “And is that a bad thing? That looks delicious Hermione, but-so do you.”
She plants an appreciative kiss on his lips and then wriggles out of his grasp, smirking at him. “Why thank you, dear. Now eat your bacon like a good boy.”
He grumbles something incomprehensible, but she just grins, refusing to give in. Playing hard to get always has its rewards later, so she knows that it’s worth it.
9
Title: A Little Breakfast Surprise
Author: dracodew17
Rating: PG
Warning(s): EWE
Word Count: 496
When Draco Malfoy woke far too early for his liking on Saturday morning and rolled over with a groan, he expected to bury his face into the coconut-scented mass of his wife’s ridiculously curly hair and let her warmth lure him back to slumber. He, however, was met with a vacant, cold spot instead, and it was enough to jolt him fully awake.
Hermione never got up earlier than he did, and she hadn’t been feeling well lately.
A clamor in the hall outside their bedroom captured his attention and had him sitting up sharply in the middle of the bed, his arm already reaching for his wand. When he saw it was Hermione entering the room, he exhaled in relief as he sagged against the headboard.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she answered cheerily, flicking her wand behind her and waving in two levitating breakfast trays. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“What’s all this?” he questioned, a teasing smirk materializing on his face. “I’m not overlooking a special occasion, am I?”
“No, but don’t think I’d ever let you forget if you did,” she responded with an indignant nose scrunch he found adorable. “I just thought we’d stay in today. And I know how happy a leisurely breakfast makes you, to paraphrase the quote,” she added with a smile as she guided one of the trays in his direction.
“Nothing’s wrong, right? You’re feeling better?” he inquired worriedly, settling the large, traditional spread he favored over his lap and tucking in. “You were asleep when I came home last night, and I didn’t get to ask how your appointment with the Healer went.”
Hermione had resumed her place at his side on the bed and was cutting her French toast into dainty bites, the grin on her lips spreading until it looked like her face might crack. “I’m fine.”
He gave her a look as he chewed his toast that left no doubt how unsatisfied he was with her answer.
“Really, Draco, I’ll tell you about it after we eat,” she stated with a laugh.
Deciding it couldn’t be anything serious if she was laughing, he pulled out the Daily Prophet she had slipped under his plate and unfolded it. A large advertisement on the lower half of the front page made his heart speed up.
Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy are proud to announce the impending birth of their first grandchild early next summer to their only son, Mr. Draco Malfoy, and his wife, Mrs. Hermione Granger Malfoy. Any well-wishes or gifts can be directed to the family’s solicitor at Gringott’s.
“Hermione?” His voice was a strangled whisper in the room.
She leaned over his shoulder and caught sight of the article. “Oh, Narcissa promised me she wouldn’t tell him before I told you!” He could make out her eyes twinkling as she gazed back at him, a wicked smile decorating her mouth.
“Wait until Lucius finds out we’re having twins.”
10
Title: Break, Fast!
Author: savepureness
Rating: G
Warning(s): -
Word Count: 366
“Don’t say a word.”
If Malfoy’s intention was to sound like James Bond crawling from under a bridge, late at night, stolen diamonds dangling in his pockets, then the effect was far from it. There was an effect, however: I felt the urge to scold him, and at the same time I found his pose completely hilarious. The result was a half-swallowed sound between a throaty laughter and a gurgle.
“It’s hard to please you, Granger. Here I am, your savior, popping in fresh as a daisy and with a plan in my mind - and you’re laughing at me?”
“Am not”, I managed, gurgling again. “Do share your cunning plan.”
He recomposed himself, his features smoothing in his usual I’m-a-Malfoy-so-you’d-better-bow expression. I took his extended hand, and waited. One thing he had been always good at was staging an effect.
“Alright”, I said. His eyebrows flew. “You have it, the effect. Here I stand, impressed. Now tell me already! One full day and one long night without food was enough to get me extremely cranky.”
“Well”, Malfoy tried to sound mysterious again, “I hold the key to all your problems - or should I say, a balm to soothe your stomachache.”
I rolled my eyes. “Malfoy, cut it. Unless the promised balm is your lyrical propensity; very uncharacteristic of you, I might add.”
“Fine, I’ll cut it. Or better said, you will. You’ll use a knife to cut the lovely bits of bread I spotted; there was some butter left nearby as well. Scarce, but sure, right? And anyway, dinner is overrated - my mother used to say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“Are we talking about the same mother who came with the idea that I should fast because I can’t squeeze in her fancy dress?”
“Well. “ He measured me critically. “You still can’t.”
“And does that allow your beloved MOTHER to trap me in by magical force?!”
I got really angry. For a second, I thought I’d forgotten about my woes, about my piercing hunger. But it came back, and it struck me hard, like a full fist in my empty stomach.
“Breakfast would be bliss, Malfoy. Take me there.”
11
Title: Feeding the Swiss Army
Author: ayane_tsurgui
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Word Count: 448
Draco woke first, and a relieved smile graced his lips as he found that the woman who had fallen asleep with her head on his chest was still there, her arm thrown across his stomach and her soft breath tickling his skin. He’d finally convinced her to stay the night before, but he hadn’t managed to convince himself that she wouldn’t wake up early and sneak out.
Carefully, he slid himself out from under her and padded across the room, coaxing the door quietly open. Downstairs, he summoned Jilly, his favorite house elf from home, and handed her a list of things he wanted prepared for breakfast, as he wanted it to be perfect. She looked at him strangely, but nodded, disappearing with a snap.
Outside in the garden, he gathered the most beautiful flowers he could find and arranged them in a long crystal vase that he’d borrowed from his unknowing mother. He placed them in the center of the long dining table, moving them a couple of times as more food appeared, eventually placing them between the pitchers of orange and pumpkin juice and stepping away.
By the time it was finished, the table was absolutely covered with food. Among the many dishes, there were six different types of eggs, four meats, and two heaping plates of toast with preserves assembled to the side.
He heard a gasp and turned to find Hermione staring at all of it with a slightly open mouth. He smiled. “Good morning.”
Her wide eyes switched to look at him and she shook her head, laughter bubbling through her lips.
“What?” he asked, examining his spread again before turning questioning eyes back on her.
“Who else is coming for breakfast, Draco?” she asked, laughter making her words and her entire body shake. “Switzerland?”
He grinned. “Only the army.”
She laughed loudly now, walking over to wrap her arms around his waist. She kissed his cheek, shaking her head again. “You really didn’t have to do all of this.”
He held her close to him and shrugged. “I wanted it to be perfect. So you’d want to do this again.”
She smiled fondly at him and kissed his cheek again before pulling away to examine the table more closely, walking around to the opposite side. “Perfect, hmm? Well, you certainly came close,” she said with a playful smirk.
He raised an eyebrow. “Close?”
“Yep,” she said and nodded solemnly. “You forgot the coffee.”
He barely had time to scrunch his nose in distaste before a piece of toast hit him square on the side the head and he took off around the table after her, her laughter filling the room once more.
ooo
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Choose your favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote.
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, February 26.
All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast. ~John Gunther
1
Title: Ten minutes till breakfast!
Author: hathorx
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 495
There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Hermione? You awake?” Harry called from the other side. “Ginny wants everyone downstairs in ten. She made pancakes.”
Hermione’s eyes snapped open.
“I’ll be right there,” she cried out, looking down with wide eyes at the blond sleeping beside her and whose arm was tightly wrapped around her waist.
Craaap! She thought to herself, trying to remember how last night’s celebrations with her friends had led her to bed the one man, she’d secretly been crushing on for months.
Pansy, shockingly, had decided to throw a surprise birthday party for her co-worker, Ginny, at her country home. Luna had taken care of decorations, Dean had cooked, Ron had brought lots of alcohol and Harry had kept Ginny away.
Malfoy, it seemed, had only brought himself in a dashing charcoal-grey suit.
The rest of the evening was mostly a blur.
Untangling herself from Malfoy’s tight grip, Hermione quickly hit the showers, decided to head down to breakfast before her friends suspected anything.
--
Minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom and froze. Malfoy was awake and was currently standing before her wearing nothing but his trousers.
“Harry wants us downstairs for breakfast,” Hermione blurted out as she tried to keep her eyes off his naked chest.
“I heard him,” Malfoy said indifferently, slipping his shirt back on.
Hermione felt her heart sink upon the realisation that she was probably just another conquest to him.
“Draco,” she began, trying her best not to sound disappointed. “About last night, we should probably forget -”
But she was cut short by his lips suddenly pressed on her own.
“I don’t want to forget about last night, Granger, and neither do you.” He smirked, lightly dragging his thumb across her lips.
She smiled in response and kissed him back.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” he finally told her.
-
Rushing about to get dressed, all the while feeling her insides melt as she remembered Draco’s words, Hermione finally made it to breakfast.
Greeting her friends before sitting down beside Draco at the table, she noticed the freshly made pancakes in her plate and nearly drooled.
Nothing could possibly ruin her morning now, she thought, as she picked up the maple syrup. She was going to savour her breakfast as she should - it was, after all, the most important meal of the day - then she would spend the day with her friends and somehow convince Draco to spend the night at hers.
Although judging by his hand subtly caressing her thigh, she realised he probably wouldn’t need any convincing at all.
Hermione’s happy thoughts, however, were suddenly interrupted by Ginny’s outburst. “Hermione, is that a hickey on your neck?”
All conversations around the table abruptly ceased.
Hermione was at a loss for words again while Draco didn’t bat an eye.
“Well,” Harry added, obviously amused by the situation, “I guess that explains why no one answered earlier when I knocked at Malfoy’s door.”
2
Title: Breakfast En Famille
Author: vox_rowan
Rating: G
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 435
I whimpered slightly.
“It’s for the best, dear,” Mrs. Weasley murmured softly, patting my hand before she turned away to move calmly around the kitchen of our flat, her tatty robes incongruous with its sleek, modern fixtures of steel and granite.
Draco leaned against the countertop across from me, one leg casually crossed in front of the other. Crookshanks was in the corner defeating a particularly vicious dust bunny. They wore disconcertingly similar expressions.
“I’m fine with tea in the mornings, Draco! You have no idea what it’s li-“
But I’d already lost my husband. He was too busy making cooing noises at the sizeable bump where my waist used to live.
“That’s right… Daddy’s going to make sure you grow up niiiiceee and strong. That way you can be a Seeker and beat Potter and his gang of red-haired terrors alllll over the Quidditch field. Yes you will. Yes you will!”
He was smart enough to murmur this well below the hearing range of Molly Weasley, who was making a frightful ruckus on the cook top.
Half an hour later I was firmly seated at the small table which occupied our breakfast nook. The delicate piece had been rescued from an antiques shop in Paris and I could hear it groaning underneath the barbaric scope of the traditional English fry-up: baked beans, sausages, tomatoes, kippers… Our child would die of clogged arteries before he got his first wand.
“There now, dear. We’ll fatten you right up and get your strength back, won’t we? Good, home-cooking. Exactly what the mediwizard ordered.”
“Actually he told me not to overdo it while I’m on bed rest-“ But Molly Weasley had already sailed magnificently out, her mission accomplished, leaving me alone with the Slytherin that I’d decided to marry for reasons which currently escaped me.
“Is it going to be like this every morning?” I sighed.
Draco grinned at me, “You’re the one who insisted upon a House Elf-free establishment. And I’m not going to let my wife waste away while she’s stuck at home for three months.”
“You could just learn to cook,” I groused, spearing what appeared to be the least greasy of the tomato pieces with my fork.
“In due time. But for now I can think of nothing more perfect than having a nice, relaxing breakfast with my pretty wife and our baby.”
“Accompanied by about ten pounds of excess protein,” I muttered. But a moment later I smiled at him and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. After all, even the most plotting of Slytherins have their sweet moments.
3
Title: Breakfast In Bed
Author: hpfangirl71
Rating: R
Warning(s): brief mention of nakedness, implied sex, and blatant seduction.
Word Count: 331
Draco rolled over within the pale white sheets of his bed; surprised by the apparent emptiness beside him. In a sleepy haze, he sat up and looked around the brightly lit room. A moment later, Hermione entered carrying a large tray of food.
“I didn’t think you’d have awakened yet.” she spoke to him as she laid the tray down on the nearby vanity table.
“Did you make us breakfast?” he questioned her.
“Yes, and don’t look so surprised” she said with a playful chuckle of admonishment.
He looked up at her and pondered at how this lovely woman was his. She had a beautiful smile, as bright as the sunlight shining through the window. He loved waking up to it in the mornings.
“Come here and have some breakfast.” she said sweetly to him.
“Why don’t you come here and have breakfast?” he retorted naughtily to her.
“Draco… A well known American journalist, John Gunther once said; “All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast.” so you really should get out of bed and eat.” she droned on in that encyclopedic voice she used when relaying useless information.
Draco crawled to the edge of the bed, letting the sheets fall aside to reveal his nakedness from beneath them. He looked at her with a sensual look of desire and need within his eyes.
“Well your Mr. John Gunther never said that breakfast had to be food, now did he?”
He arched an eyebrow at her questioningly and he saw her relenting as she shook her head in a chuckle.
“You really are incorrigible!” she half-heartedly admonished him.
She walked up to him, letting her hand caress his face. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her down to him so his lips could capture hers. She pushed herself down onto his body and returned his kiss with a passionate fervor that only he could produce within her. She hungered for him and he hungered for her, their bodies truly needed this leisurely “breakfast”.
4
Title: Most Important Meal of the Day
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 440
The morning after their wedding, Hermione stared across the breakfast table at her new husband with a mixture of mild disgust and grudging admiration written across her face.
“Do you do this every day?” she asked, her words colored with disbelief.
Draco paused in his incessant shoveling of food from his heavily laden breakfast plate to his mouth long enough to throw her a confused look.
“What? Eat breakfast? Yeah, usually,” he said, his fork spearing potatoes with the same speed as her mother’s sewing machine needle went through fabric.
“Not that,” she said, barely smothering a laugh. “Do you normally plow through breakfast with quite this amount of, well, insane gusto?”
“Please,” Draco said, rolling his eyes between bites of kipper. “You lived with Weasley in that blasted tent for months. Every morning must have been like watching someone slop the hogs!”
“Not really,” Hermione admitted. “Food was stretched pretty thin.”
“Maybe, but I saw him eat back in the Great Hall. The Slytherins used to place bets on how many fried eggs that boy would down,” Draco said, gesturing with his spoon and whipping a small spot of oatmeal onto the tablecloth in the process. “No one ever bet fewer than six.”
“But even Ron never ate this quickly,” Hermione said. “If speed eating were an Olympic sport, you’d be bordering on the gold medal and a world record into the bargain.”
“What’s an Olympics?” Draco asked from around a bite of ham.
“International Muggle competition,” Hermione explained. “You’ve got a bit of pudding on your nose, by the way.”
Draco immediately dabbed at the offending mess, looking embarrassed.
“Sorry,” he said. “I guess I am rushing a bit.”
“Oh, just a tad,” Hermione said sarcastically. “What’s the hurry? Afraid I’m going to steal your tomatoes?”
“No, though that could be grounds for divorce. I’m just intent on resuming other activities as quickly as possible, preferably with plenty of energy,” he said, casting a meaningful glance back towards the bedroom.
Hermione laughed and continued eating her grapefruit half. After she took a couple more bites, though, she glanced up to find Draco’s expression was strained. In fact, he was looking rather green.
“Are you all right?” she asked, laying down her spoon in concern.
He shook his head, then lurched to the balcony of their honeymoon suite and promptly vomited into the shrubbery below.
Draco did indeed spend the rest of the day in bed, but not exactly as he had hoped, groaning and clutching a bottle of Daggle’s Dyspepsia Distillation. From that day on, Hermione noted that her husband ate breakfast at a far more leisurely pace.
5
Title: Demanding Satisfaction
Author: terrayn
Rating: PG
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 498
She was absolute rubbish at cooking.
That first month, he would roll out of her bed and start the tea while she rummaged through creaky cupboards, no woman ever needed a house-elf more, to pull out knives and jams and crusty bagels, offering it to him with a sheepish smile that said, well, it's the thought that counts, right?
Draco disagreed, but told her, "I'll take apricot."
Then he'd Floo back to Malfoy Manor, vast clean empty, and find toast, cod steak, stewed fruit and boiled egg laid out for him in chromatic symmetry on his desk, the Prophet beside perfectly brewed tea. It never took a second longer than the walk to his study for his unseen, unheard house-elves to deliver the bounty.
The second month, he invited her to stay the night at the Manor.
She lowered her eyes, exhaled slowly, and nodded so casually he knew she'd been expecting it, had long coached herself into practiced acquiescence. He read in that splinter of a moment rejection of the face he wore for everyone else, son heir pride, and in that mad instant, wanted to punish her for presuming to know him, for daring to strip him naked, no wealth or titles-what good was he as only a man?
He fell into irrational anger, plied her with enough wine that by night's end she was staggering, and ravaged her in the Malfoy ancestral bed. In the morning, there were two identical trays at the foot of the bed, as though the presence of another person glitched the smooth machinery of his invisible kitchens and it spat out two of everything in sheer frustration.
She looked at the laden trays and turned to him, amused, smiling softly. "So that's why you're always tearing out in the morning."
Shame battered his composure, shredding the careful nonchalance he'd planned to show her. "I'm sorry," he said instead, voice thick. "It wasn't about me, was it?"
"Only a little," she said, looking away, eyes distant. "Mostly, I didn't want to remember that night, with Bellatrix, in your drawing room."
She could've have said, your aunt, but she didn't. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
She stroked the inside of his left wrist, tracing the curled black scar. "You will be," she said at last, crumbling the tension, "if you ever go medieval Lord of the Manor on me again."
He arched a brow. "Oh, is that what deafening me with yes, yes meant?"
On the first day of the third month, he dropped a stack of recipe books on her kitchen counter and two trunks in her closet.
"The only thing worse than your-and I hesitate to even call it-cooking is eating alone," he told her, affecting the pompous air that drove her mad. "If we're going to try this happiness thing, I'm bringing you up to scratch."
Hermione threw a dishrag at him, and then hauled him down by the lapels into a fierce kiss, hard soft everything.
6
Title: Opaque Rays
Author: spadul
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Sexual innuendo, shirtless Draco, etc.
Word Count: 499, yikes.
Draco wakes up to a thick stream of sunlight blinding him with its opaque rays. He squints his eyes for a few moments, calculating. He sinks further into the bed, noting the absence beside him, and smirks to himself as he inhales tiredly. His legs flex, and he slowly rights himself, his bare feet landing on the hardwood.
He pads softly down the hall, and stops as he reaches the doorway. He sees something that warms the ice inside of him, something that is no comparison to the meagerly heated grasp of the sun. His smirk deepens, and he folds his arms across his bare chest as he leans against the wooden doorframe with his pants slung low on his hips.
“Granger,” he acknowledges, and she spins around quickly, a spatula in her hand and a wide, surprised smile turned up on her lips. Her grin turns coy as her cheeks tint red, her eyes lost in memory, and she turns back to face the oven. She’s wearing nothing more than a white undershirt and a miniscule pair of pants that barely cover her buttocks, and it’s almost as if she senses where his line of vision is fixed, because she catches his eye a second later.
“I’m making pancakes.”
He nods. “I see that.” He takes a few long strides, until he is standing directly behind her. He tentatively lifts his hands, slowly moving his fingers as if to tempt them to reach out and touch her back, her waist, her sides. He drops his hands, but moves his face close to her ear. “But what if I don’t want pancakes?” His voice is low and gravely, and goosebumps break out across her neck.
She smiles to herself, a knowing smile, and clears her throat softly. “Well, what would you like instead?” Her voice nearly trembles.
“What do you have to offer?” He loses the battle with his hands, and they automatically reach for her hips. His thumbs rub lazy circles while she contemplates her answer.
She leans back into him, and nearly purrs with satisfaction at the heat radiating off his body. “Eggs?”
He shakes his head, his breaths fanning out on her neck. “Don’t think so.”
“Kippers, then.”
His hands leave her hips and trail up and under her shirt, his fingers leisurely spreading out across her smooth stomach. “No,” he whispers into her ear.
“Hmm,” she whispers back, because everything is so loud right now. “Bang,” she inhales sharply as his mouth captures her neck, “ers.” She clears her throat. “Bangers?”
He chuckles and turns her around in his arms. She fumbles for the fixtures, turning the stovetop off and tossing the spatula onto the counter.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he says slowly, as her hands explore his chest. He leans his head down as a contented hum passes his lips, and she meets his stare. “You know what I want, Granger.”
“That I do,” she admits slowly, and his lips capture hers.
7
Title: No breakfast makes Draco a moody boy.
Author: open_atclose
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Word Count: 406
Hermione walked into her office at the Ministry of Magic and before she could even sit down, Draco Malfoy strode in, an angry glare on his face, and threw a stack of paperwork down on her desk.
"I want these read over and filed before the end of the day," he said, the words sounding more like grunts than the English language, and the witch watched, her mouth gaping, as he strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
"Well somebody forgot to take their happiness potion today," Hermione muttered to the closed door, sitting down behind her desk slightly shaken. She was used to a certain amount of snark from Draco certainly, but that performance had just created a new record. Shaking her head, Hermione got stuck into the paperwork she'd been so violently delivered, not willing to see Draco any angrier.
The next morning, Hermione entered the staff tea room, a china cup clutched in her hands. Not paying much attention to what she was doing, the witch walked right into Draco, who had been standing in the doorway fumbling with a small, brightly wrapped package.
"Watch where you're going, Granger!" he snarled, whipping around and looking down at Hermione imperiously, the expression making her want to hit him in the nose again.
"Maybe if you didn't stand in the doorway like an idiot I wouldn't have walked into you," Hermione replied hotly. She glanced down at the chocolate Draco was struggling to open without much sympathy, and forgetting all about her quest for tea stalked out of the room.
Before she'd even had her ritual morning coffee, on Wednesday Hermione let herself into Draco's office and set down a plate of bacon, eggs and toast, still hot thanks to the Heating Charm. Draco looked up and raised his eyebrows arrogantly, and Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, nodding to the breakfast.
"I've figured out why you've been so snappy the last two days, Draco. You're obviously missing breakfast, and my mum always said that happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast, so here you are."
Draco sneered at Hermione, despite the tantalising smell of the feast in front of him, which he desperately wanted to tuck in to.
"What do you care about my happiness, Granger?"
"Not a fig," she replied, walking to the door before pausing and turning back to face him. "It's about my happiness, not yours."
8
Title: The Most Important Meal
Author: alexajohnson
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Innuendo
Word Count: 332
Hermione enjoys starting the day with a nice breakfast, but Draco never bothered to subscribe to this opinion.
If it weren’t for her, he would probably go to work without any breakfast at all, and she’s never understood how he can start his day with an empty stomach. She’s probably disappointing at least one feminist right now as she flips the strips of bacon over in the frying pan, but she actually loves cooking, and she loves cooking for him. It relaxes her and gives her time to think about her day, and besides, it’s far easier to make food for two than it is for one.
Draco shuffles into the kitchen, blinking bleary eyes at her. “Why are you standing in here when you could’ve had thirty more minutes in bed?”
“My day would be ruined if I didn’t start it with a meal. All happiness depends on is a leisurely breakfast, and after all it's the most important meal of the day. Weren’t you ever taught that?”
He’s so sneaky that she doesn’t even know he’s behind her until she feels hot breath and the faintest brush of lips against her neck and it takes all her willpower not to jump.
“Well I guess that depends on what it is you eat.” His low, husky voice makes her skin tingle with pleasure, even more so because she’s already anticipated what he’s about to say.
And of course he has to nibble her ear. “Or who.”
“You are too predictable, darling.”
His hand is already resting lightly on her thigh. “And is that a bad thing? That looks delicious Hermione, but-so do you.”
She plants an appreciative kiss on his lips and then wriggles out of his grasp, smirking at him. “Why thank you, dear. Now eat your bacon like a good boy.”
He grumbles something incomprehensible, but she just grins, refusing to give in. Playing hard to get always has its rewards later, so she knows that it’s worth it.
9
Title: A Little Breakfast Surprise
Author: dracodew17
Rating: PG
Warning(s): EWE
Word Count: 496
When Draco Malfoy woke far too early for his liking on Saturday morning and rolled over with a groan, he expected to bury his face into the coconut-scented mass of his wife’s ridiculously curly hair and let her warmth lure him back to slumber. He, however, was met with a vacant, cold spot instead, and it was enough to jolt him fully awake.
Hermione never got up earlier than he did, and she hadn’t been feeling well lately.
A clamor in the hall outside their bedroom captured his attention and had him sitting up sharply in the middle of the bed, his arm already reaching for his wand. When he saw it was Hermione entering the room, he exhaled in relief as he sagged against the headboard.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she answered cheerily, flicking her wand behind her and waving in two levitating breakfast trays. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“What’s all this?” he questioned, a teasing smirk materializing on his face. “I’m not overlooking a special occasion, am I?”
“No, but don’t think I’d ever let you forget if you did,” she responded with an indignant nose scrunch he found adorable. “I just thought we’d stay in today. And I know how happy a leisurely breakfast makes you, to paraphrase the quote,” she added with a smile as she guided one of the trays in his direction.
“Nothing’s wrong, right? You’re feeling better?” he inquired worriedly, settling the large, traditional spread he favored over his lap and tucking in. “You were asleep when I came home last night, and I didn’t get to ask how your appointment with the Healer went.”
Hermione had resumed her place at his side on the bed and was cutting her French toast into dainty bites, the grin on her lips spreading until it looked like her face might crack. “I’m fine.”
He gave her a look as he chewed his toast that left no doubt how unsatisfied he was with her answer.
“Really, Draco, I’ll tell you about it after we eat,” she stated with a laugh.
Deciding it couldn’t be anything serious if she was laughing, he pulled out the Daily Prophet she had slipped under his plate and unfolded it. A large advertisement on the lower half of the front page made his heart speed up.
Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy are proud to announce the impending birth of their first grandchild early next summer to their only son, Mr. Draco Malfoy, and his wife, Mrs. Hermione Granger Malfoy. Any well-wishes or gifts can be directed to the family’s solicitor at Gringott’s.
“Hermione?” His voice was a strangled whisper in the room.
She leaned over his shoulder and caught sight of the article. “Oh, Narcissa promised me she wouldn’t tell him before I told you!” He could make out her eyes twinkling as she gazed back at him, a wicked smile decorating her mouth.
“Wait until Lucius finds out we’re having twins.”
10
Title: Break, Fast!
Author: savepureness
Rating: G
Warning(s): -
Word Count: 366
“Don’t say a word.”
If Malfoy’s intention was to sound like James Bond crawling from under a bridge, late at night, stolen diamonds dangling in his pockets, then the effect was far from it. There was an effect, however: I felt the urge to scold him, and at the same time I found his pose completely hilarious. The result was a half-swallowed sound between a throaty laughter and a gurgle.
“It’s hard to please you, Granger. Here I am, your savior, popping in fresh as a daisy and with a plan in my mind - and you’re laughing at me?”
“Am not”, I managed, gurgling again. “Do share your cunning plan.”
He recomposed himself, his features smoothing in his usual I’m-a-Malfoy-so-you’d-better-bow expression. I took his extended hand, and waited. One thing he had been always good at was staging an effect.
“Alright”, I said. His eyebrows flew. “You have it, the effect. Here I stand, impressed. Now tell me already! One full day and one long night without food was enough to get me extremely cranky.”
“Well”, Malfoy tried to sound mysterious again, “I hold the key to all your problems - or should I say, a balm to soothe your stomachache.”
I rolled my eyes. “Malfoy, cut it. Unless the promised balm is your lyrical propensity; very uncharacteristic of you, I might add.”
“Fine, I’ll cut it. Or better said, you will. You’ll use a knife to cut the lovely bits of bread I spotted; there was some butter left nearby as well. Scarce, but sure, right? And anyway, dinner is overrated - my mother used to say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“Are we talking about the same mother who came with the idea that I should fast because I can’t squeeze in her fancy dress?”
“Well. “ He measured me critically. “You still can’t.”
“And does that allow your beloved MOTHER to trap me in by magical force?!”
I got really angry. For a second, I thought I’d forgotten about my woes, about my piercing hunger. But it came back, and it struck me hard, like a full fist in my empty stomach.
“Breakfast would be bliss, Malfoy. Take me there.”
11
Title: Feeding the Swiss Army
Author: ayane_tsurgui
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Word Count: 448
Draco woke first, and a relieved smile graced his lips as he found that the woman who had fallen asleep with her head on his chest was still there, her arm thrown across his stomach and her soft breath tickling his skin. He’d finally convinced her to stay the night before, but he hadn’t managed to convince himself that she wouldn’t wake up early and sneak out.
Carefully, he slid himself out from under her and padded across the room, coaxing the door quietly open. Downstairs, he summoned Jilly, his favorite house elf from home, and handed her a list of things he wanted prepared for breakfast, as he wanted it to be perfect. She looked at him strangely, but nodded, disappearing with a snap.
Outside in the garden, he gathered the most beautiful flowers he could find and arranged them in a long crystal vase that he’d borrowed from his unknowing mother. He placed them in the center of the long dining table, moving them a couple of times as more food appeared, eventually placing them between the pitchers of orange and pumpkin juice and stepping away.
By the time it was finished, the table was absolutely covered with food. Among the many dishes, there were six different types of eggs, four meats, and two heaping plates of toast with preserves assembled to the side.
He heard a gasp and turned to find Hermione staring at all of it with a slightly open mouth. He smiled. “Good morning.”
Her wide eyes switched to look at him and she shook her head, laughter bubbling through her lips.
“What?” he asked, examining his spread again before turning questioning eyes back on her.
“Who else is coming for breakfast, Draco?” she asked, laughter making her words and her entire body shake. “Switzerland?”
He grinned. “Only the army.”
She laughed loudly now, walking over to wrap her arms around his waist. She kissed his cheek, shaking her head again. “You really didn’t have to do all of this.”
He held her close to him and shrugged. “I wanted it to be perfect. So you’d want to do this again.”
She smiled fondly at him and kissed his cheek again before pulling away to examine the table more closely, walking around to the opposite side. “Perfect, hmm? Well, you certainly came close,” she said with a playful smirk.
He raised an eyebrow. “Close?”
“Yep,” she said and nodded solemnly. “You forgot the coffee.”
He barely had time to scrunch his nose in distaste before a piece of toast hit him square on the side the head and he took off around the table after her, her laughter filling the room once more.
ooo
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