Pesky Pecks: Plant
Summary: Series of drabbles written for the 7 Kisses Challenge, Valentine's Day 2010. Through the seven prompts, follow Draco and Hermione's osculation experimentation.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour, Romance.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger.
Canon Compliancy: It could be EWE and it could be Epilogue-compliant, you can choose.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. The author of the following story (that's me!) has no connection to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Books or Warner Bros., Inc. - No money is being made from this, no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Table of Contents.
PLANT
The fireplace roared to life, and seconds later he was stepping out of it to welcome the quietness of his office. He checked his watch, and sighed. The meeting wouldn't start for another hour.
Draco strode up to his desk and winced at the sight that welcomed him. Between his monthly report and his neatly organised pens, a flowerpot had recently taken its place, and the plant was softly impregnating the air, the office, and his clothes, with its unmistakable perfume. It had been her idea, of course.
"An Asteridae to remind you of me," she had said, handing him the pot plant.
He felt the sudden urge to squash it now. She was being unreasonable! Proving him for the umpteenth time what a spoiled little child she was. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping into his chair. He knew the argument had started out of nothing, he knew they hadn't meant half the stuff they had yelled at each other, he knew it was the huge ceremony planning they had undergone in the last two months taking its toll on their sanity... He knew it, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. Draco lazily tore a leaf from the plant to fiddle with it.
A knock on his door.
"Mister Malfoy?" His secretary sounded miffed. "There's someone here for you," he said, and then paused. "She hasn't got an appointment," he finished accusingly.
Draco tilted his head upwards and stared at the ceiling. He was in no mood to entertain, but the choice was not his; if his boss decided to send him someone, he had to at least listen to the woman.
"Send her in," he said a little loudly.
The door clicked open. He stood, preparing himself to make a show of his good manners before sending whomever it was on their merry way; he brushed the leaf against his lips, hiding a smirk at his own shrewdness.
"Granger?" he asked, surprised to see her, of all people.
The witch smiled, taking off her cloak and her hat, placing them carefully on the hook behind the door.
"I met Harry on the way to my office," she said. "He asked me to deliver a message."
Draco relaxed, if only slightly, and stepped away from his desk; the residual anxiety at seeing Granger on his territory caused him to bump his hand against the flowerpot, and several of the scarlet blossoms plummeted to the floor.
"Bugger," he muttered.
"What is it?" Granger asked.
He stared at her. "Bittersweet."
She frowned. "You mean belladonna."
Draco wasn't listening anymore; his mind had gone back to his argument with Asteria, and a small, but persistent voice, was telling him she was the reason why he had wanted to pick a fight with his fiancée. He hated her for it. What right did she have to come between them?
Granger's lips were moving. His brain told him he should stop brooding and listen to her, that was the sensible thing to do. However, if he wasn't in the mood to entertain, he was even less in the mood to do the right thing. His eyes fell on the bittersweet and he considered how fitting it was that she'd usurp the Asteridae part of the plant and highlight the poisonous quality of it instead.
"Are you even listening to me?" he heard her ask.
He spun his head in her direction and closed in on her in two quick steps. She gulped. Still, it was only a moment's hesitation, and then her eyes locked on his, conveying the message he had been resentfully waiting for.
It was an angry kiss, meant to tell her how much he despised her; Draco didn't go for sweet, or soft. He battled with her tongue and bit down on her lip. He resolved he'd punish himself later for the ignoble pleasure he got from hearing Granger whimper, or he'd get a house-elf to do it for him.
"Draco," she whispered, breaking the contact.
Her lips were bruised, and her lipstick smeared. He took her face into his hands and rested his forehead against hers; he smelled the scent of the plant in the air around them, and it prickled his nostrils.
He thought that if he stared at her long enough, the rest of the world would disappear.
*
Prompt #3: Bittersweet Kiss.
footnote
Bittersweet, or nightshade, is a plant related to the potato, typically having poisonous black or red berries. When not in bloom it is often confused with the belladonna variety of the same plant.
next drabble
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour, Romance.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger.
Canon Compliancy: It could be EWE and it could be Epilogue-compliant, you can choose.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. The author of the following story (that's me!) has no connection to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Books or Warner Bros., Inc. - No money is being made from this, no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Table of Contents.
PLANT
The fireplace roared to life, and seconds later he was stepping out of it to welcome the quietness of his office. He checked his watch, and sighed. The meeting wouldn't start for another hour.
Draco strode up to his desk and winced at the sight that welcomed him. Between his monthly report and his neatly organised pens, a flowerpot had recently taken its place, and the plant was softly impregnating the air, the office, and his clothes, with its unmistakable perfume. It had been her idea, of course.
"An Asteridae to remind you of me," she had said, handing him the pot plant.
He felt the sudden urge to squash it now. She was being unreasonable! Proving him for the umpteenth time what a spoiled little child she was. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping into his chair. He knew the argument had started out of nothing, he knew they hadn't meant half the stuff they had yelled at each other, he knew it was the huge ceremony planning they had undergone in the last two months taking its toll on their sanity... He knew it, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. Draco lazily tore a leaf from the plant to fiddle with it.
A knock on his door.
"Mister Malfoy?" His secretary sounded miffed. "There's someone here for you," he said, and then paused. "She hasn't got an appointment," he finished accusingly.
Draco tilted his head upwards and stared at the ceiling. He was in no mood to entertain, but the choice was not his; if his boss decided to send him someone, he had to at least listen to the woman.
"Send her in," he said a little loudly.
The door clicked open. He stood, preparing himself to make a show of his good manners before sending whomever it was on their merry way; he brushed the leaf against his lips, hiding a smirk at his own shrewdness.
"Granger?" he asked, surprised to see her, of all people.
The witch smiled, taking off her cloak and her hat, placing them carefully on the hook behind the door.
"I met Harry on the way to my office," she said. "He asked me to deliver a message."
Draco relaxed, if only slightly, and stepped away from his desk; the residual anxiety at seeing Granger on his territory caused him to bump his hand against the flowerpot, and several of the scarlet blossoms plummeted to the floor.
"Bugger," he muttered.
"What is it?" Granger asked.
He stared at her. "Bittersweet."
She frowned. "You mean belladonna."
Draco wasn't listening anymore; his mind had gone back to his argument with Asteria, and a small, but persistent voice, was telling him she was the reason why he had wanted to pick a fight with his fiancée. He hated her for it. What right did she have to come between them?
Granger's lips were moving. His brain told him he should stop brooding and listen to her, that was the sensible thing to do. However, if he wasn't in the mood to entertain, he was even less in the mood to do the right thing. His eyes fell on the bittersweet and he considered how fitting it was that she'd usurp the Asteridae part of the plant and highlight the poisonous quality of it instead.
"Are you even listening to me?" he heard her ask.
He spun his head in her direction and closed in on her in two quick steps. She gulped. Still, it was only a moment's hesitation, and then her eyes locked on his, conveying the message he had been resentfully waiting for.
It was an angry kiss, meant to tell her how much he despised her; Draco didn't go for sweet, or soft. He battled with her tongue and bit down on her lip. He resolved he'd punish himself later for the ignoble pleasure he got from hearing Granger whimper, or he'd get a house-elf to do it for him.
"Draco," she whispered, breaking the contact.
Her lips were bruised, and her lipstick smeared. He took her face into his hands and rested his forehead against hers; he smelled the scent of the plant in the air around them, and it prickled his nostrils.
He thought that if he stared at her long enough, the rest of the world would disappear.
*
Prompt #3: Bittersweet Kiss.
footnote
Bittersweet, or nightshade, is a plant related to the potato, typically having poisonous black or red berries. When not in bloom it is often confused with the belladonna variety of the same plant.
next drabble