North Pole Elves 1/1
North Pole Elves
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Rating: Any Age
Summary: Draco enjoys his annual Christmas prank, but this year his wife is turning the tables.
A/N: I got stuck in the middle of this fic, and it took forever to finish. Let me know if you think the ending seems incomplete or rushed at all.
Hermione had finally realized that house-elves enjoy their work. Honestly, she had. She even had two house-elves working and living in her home. But she still tried to discourage their self-mutilating punishments and didn’t ask them to take care of easy things that would only take her moments.
Her husband, however, called upon them for the most simple of tasks. Sometimes, just to annoy her, Draco would summon a house-elf to crack his knuckles for him. The only reason he too discouraged their self-mutilation was because “an injured house-elf was not an efficiently working house-elf.” And every once in a while he would use them for his own amusement. Nothing cruel, mind you, but the house-elves would do anything for their “Master Draco,” and that included doing things to irritate his wife.
So every year, on the first day of December, Hermione would wake up to two red, green, and jingle-bell clad house-elves. Yes, every year Draco would dress his house-elves up as “North Pole elves.” The elves looked forward to it every year. Master Draco would go to them in the kitchen on November 30th, strictly inform them that the outfits were not clothing but were costumes, and would cast glamour charms on them so they both had rosy cheeks until after Christmas.
The two elves would quickly change into their costumes and prance around the manor while cleaning, decorating, and singing Christmas carols. The two were always off-key and the words to the songs were never right, but they rhymed and their efforts were endearing.
Draco’s prank was light-hearted and irritated Hermione very little, but that was kind of how their relationship was-playful. At first, she thought it was demeaning, but the elves seemed to enjoy it, so now, knowing how he loved to rile her up, she only shot glares at her husband to humor him.
But this year, Draco had gone too far.
Hermione had awoken to her two North Pole house-elves pulling open her curtains and drawing her bath. She was surprised that Draco wasn’t still in bed beside her, but she assumed he was downstairs preparing tea-one thing he actually did not mind doing on his own.
After taking her bath and dressing, Hermione headed downstairs, admiring the newly-hung Christmas decorations on the way. She was heading to the kitchen when she heard her cat, Crookshanks, hissing in the drawing room. She started for the other room to see if something was wrong to find her husband grinning smugly.
Then she noticed Crookshanks.
The cat was resting his chin on his front paws, neck stiff, and hissing at Draco from where he lay on the floor. It was quite obvious to Hermione what her pet was angry about. The poor animal had antlers.
“What did you do to my cat? Crookshanks!”
The antlers were obviously too heavy as he was having trouble standing. He tilted his head back and ran towards Hermione the best he could. But when he tried to stop, the weight of the antlers threw his head forward, landing his already-smushed face on the floor and throwing his body into the air. Crookshanks kicked his stubby legs in the air and hissed into the floor. Hermione quickly picked him up.
“What did you do to him?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We already have our North Pole elves. We needed a holiday reindeer,” he explained while grinning mischievously at his wife.
She stared at him and willed herself not to chuckle, as it was a little funny. “You do know that I will have to get you back for this, right?”
He smirked at her and left the room.
*****
Eventually, Crookshanks adjusted to the weight of the antlers. He now strode smugly throughout the house, obviously feeling proudly masculine due to the alteration in his appearance.
Draco had spent the next week acting very cautious, watching out for any possible prank that his wife might have planned. But she seemed to have forgotten her empty threat. Little did he know that his sneaky wife already had her revenge planned out and was merely waiting for the opportune moment.
That opportune moment happened to come along on Christmas day.
*****
After spending Christmas morning together, Draco and Hermione were to spend the rest of the day at the Burrow as they did every year. As much as he had hated the idea of spending Christmas day with the Weasleys the first year they were married, Draco had come to enjoy their time spent there. He would never get along with Harry and Ron, but he had become good friends with Bill and Charlie, and-though he would never admit it-he enjoyed Molly’s cooking as much as anyone else did.
Hermione was finishing the last touches on her hair while Draco was stepping from the bathroom into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His clothes were waiting for him, laid out on the bed. He was slipping into his boxers when his wife came out of the bathroom.
She huffed, picking up the shirt he planned on wearing. “The elves did an awful job ironing this,” she complained.
Draco studied it for a moment. “It looks fine to me.”
“Oh, and these pants! All wrinkled. Let me just iron them quickly before you put them on.”
“Really, Hermione they look fine to me. I don’t see any wrinkles-”
“Don’t worry,” she interrupted. “It will only take a moment.” She gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek before sweeping up his clothes in her arms and leaving the room.
He quickly dried his hair and slipped on his socks. She entered the room again five minutes later with his clothes.
“Are they wrinkle-free now?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him sweetly.
*****
After apparating to the front of the Burrow, Hermione stopped Draco before they entered.
“I have one last gift for you,” she said, pulling a miniature gift bag out of her coat pocket where she had the rest of the gifts shrunken and stored. With a tap of her wand, the present returned to its normal size.
He kissed her on the lips. “Do you mind if I open it inside? I’m freezing my bollocks off out here.”
“No!” she answered quickly. “You have to open it out here. Just... make it fast.”
Shoving the colored tissue paper aside, he reached into the bag and pulled out a red and white Santa Claus hat. He stared at it for a moment. “Um... what is this?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a Father Christmas hat!”
“Yes, I see that, Hermione. But why would you give this to me as a present?”
“I thought it might get you a little more into the Christmas spirit! Go on. Put it on.”
“Hermione, I love you, but I’m not wearing this inside.”
She huffed then gave him her sweetest smile. “Please?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll try it on real fast, but I’m not wearing it inside.”
“Okay,” she said cheerfully.
He put the hat on real fast and paused for a moment to pose for her with a sexy leer. But the grin dropped from his face when he noticed the mischievous gleam in her eyes. Suddenly, a white beard and mustache began sprouting from his face and grew until it reached his chest. His normally taut stomach began expanding until he had a belly that could give Hagrid a run for his money.
He glared at his smiling wife. “What did you-”
But before he could finish accusing her, she waved her wand at him with a finite incantatem, and his clothes transformed into a red and white Santa suit. Black boots included.
Draco’s eyes bugged out of his head, and he was too dumbfounded to speak coherently. “What-what-what-”
“Isn’t it obvious? We already have our North Pole elves and holiday reindeer. We needed a Father Christmas,” she stated matter-of-factly before reaching behind him to turn the doorknob and push the door open.
He turned around and she pushed him into the doorway. For the first time since it was built, the Burrow became absolutely silent. Molly dropped the tray of cookies she had been carrying, Ron dropped some fudge he had halfway to his mouth, Bill choked on some eggnog, and everyone else was too stunned to say or do anything.
The silence was broken when Remus walked in from the kitchen, curious about the sudden quietness, and saw them in the foyer. “Happy Christmas, Hermione and... erm... Santa,” he greeted them while grinning.
Hearing those words, a wild stampede of children tackled Draco down. Harry and Ginny’s four-year-old twin boys; Bill and Fleur’s six-year-old son, five-year-old daughter, and three-year-old son; Neville and Luna’s four-year-old daughter and three-year-old son; and, of course, Fred and George. He was lucky that Hagrid, Olympe, and their two-year-old daughter were visiting Olympe’s family in France, or Draco probably would have had a few broken bones.
Draco managed to sit up on the floor and shot his wife a half-hearted glare. She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy Christmas, Santa.” After shutting the front door, she wandered into the living room-with no intentions of helping her husband-and began visiting with everyone.
Draco sat on the floor of the foyer for an hour before the children were done thanking him for all the lovely presents. Just before they began making requests for the next year, Molly interrupted and showed him upstairs so he could find something to change into.
While he had been occupied with the children, Hermione told the story of her devious plot. Everyone found it hilarious, and Fred and George even shook her hand with pride. When she noticed Molly leading Draco upstairs, she followed them up and joined her husband in Charlie’s old bedroom, closing the door behind her.
With a wave of her wand, the beard and belly disappeared.
“You evil witch!” Draco threw her down on the bed and snogged her thoroughly. “I should have known you would have been plotting all this time.”
“Did you doubt me for even a moment?” Hermione asked him with fake incredulity.
He chuckled and kissed her again. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him as he quickly changed into a pair of Charlie’s old jeans and a jumper. For a moment he stared at the red and white suit on the floor.
“I’m not sure if you’ll be able to return that suit from wherever you got it.” He sat down beside her on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. “It’s now covered in drool, urine, and melted chocolate.”
Hermione grinned at her husband. “You didn’t seem to mind the children that much.”
He stared at her for a moment before releasing his repressed grin. “Okay, I’ll admit they weren’t as bad as I would have imagined. But I’ve no clue how Molly was able to raise that same number of children. I’d be perfectly happy raising only one.”
“Only one? What about two?”
Draco thought about that for a moment. “Yes, two is good. Two would be a perfect number of children.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad that’s how you feel, because it just so happens...” Her words trailed off as she watched his eyes grow wide.
“We’re having twins?”
She smiled and nodded at him. He stood up so fast that he nearly dumped her off of his lap and onto the floor, but he caught her in time. He kissed her passionately and held her face in his hands, smiling at her. But then his face suddenly grew serious.
“What is it, Draco?”
“It’s just... I believe we’ll need to buy two more North Pole elf costumes and a Mrs. Claus dress.”
End.
Merry Christmas!
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Rating: Any Age
Summary: Draco enjoys his annual Christmas prank, but this year his wife is turning the tables.
A/N: I got stuck in the middle of this fic, and it took forever to finish. Let me know if you think the ending seems incomplete or rushed at all.
Hermione had finally realized that house-elves enjoy their work. Honestly, she had. She even had two house-elves working and living in her home. But she still tried to discourage their self-mutilating punishments and didn’t ask them to take care of easy things that would only take her moments.
Her husband, however, called upon them for the most simple of tasks. Sometimes, just to annoy her, Draco would summon a house-elf to crack his knuckles for him. The only reason he too discouraged their self-mutilation was because “an injured house-elf was not an efficiently working house-elf.” And every once in a while he would use them for his own amusement. Nothing cruel, mind you, but the house-elves would do anything for their “Master Draco,” and that included doing things to irritate his wife.
So every year, on the first day of December, Hermione would wake up to two red, green, and jingle-bell clad house-elves. Yes, every year Draco would dress his house-elves up as “North Pole elves.” The elves looked forward to it every year. Master Draco would go to them in the kitchen on November 30th, strictly inform them that the outfits were not clothing but were costumes, and would cast glamour charms on them so they both had rosy cheeks until after Christmas.
The two elves would quickly change into their costumes and prance around the manor while cleaning, decorating, and singing Christmas carols. The two were always off-key and the words to the songs were never right, but they rhymed and their efforts were endearing.
Draco’s prank was light-hearted and irritated Hermione very little, but that was kind of how their relationship was-playful. At first, she thought it was demeaning, but the elves seemed to enjoy it, so now, knowing how he loved to rile her up, she only shot glares at her husband to humor him.
But this year, Draco had gone too far.
Hermione had awoken to her two North Pole house-elves pulling open her curtains and drawing her bath. She was surprised that Draco wasn’t still in bed beside her, but she assumed he was downstairs preparing tea-one thing he actually did not mind doing on his own.
After taking her bath and dressing, Hermione headed downstairs, admiring the newly-hung Christmas decorations on the way. She was heading to the kitchen when she heard her cat, Crookshanks, hissing in the drawing room. She started for the other room to see if something was wrong to find her husband grinning smugly.
Then she noticed Crookshanks.
The cat was resting his chin on his front paws, neck stiff, and hissing at Draco from where he lay on the floor. It was quite obvious to Hermione what her pet was angry about. The poor animal had antlers.
“What did you do to my cat? Crookshanks!”
The antlers were obviously too heavy as he was having trouble standing. He tilted his head back and ran towards Hermione the best he could. But when he tried to stop, the weight of the antlers threw his head forward, landing his already-smushed face on the floor and throwing his body into the air. Crookshanks kicked his stubby legs in the air and hissed into the floor. Hermione quickly picked him up.
“What did you do to him?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We already have our North Pole elves. We needed a holiday reindeer,” he explained while grinning mischievously at his wife.
She stared at him and willed herself not to chuckle, as it was a little funny. “You do know that I will have to get you back for this, right?”
He smirked at her and left the room.
*****
Eventually, Crookshanks adjusted to the weight of the antlers. He now strode smugly throughout the house, obviously feeling proudly masculine due to the alteration in his appearance.
Draco had spent the next week acting very cautious, watching out for any possible prank that his wife might have planned. But she seemed to have forgotten her empty threat. Little did he know that his sneaky wife already had her revenge planned out and was merely waiting for the opportune moment.
That opportune moment happened to come along on Christmas day.
*****
After spending Christmas morning together, Draco and Hermione were to spend the rest of the day at the Burrow as they did every year. As much as he had hated the idea of spending Christmas day with the Weasleys the first year they were married, Draco had come to enjoy their time spent there. He would never get along with Harry and Ron, but he had become good friends with Bill and Charlie, and-though he would never admit it-he enjoyed Molly’s cooking as much as anyone else did.
Hermione was finishing the last touches on her hair while Draco was stepping from the bathroom into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His clothes were waiting for him, laid out on the bed. He was slipping into his boxers when his wife came out of the bathroom.
She huffed, picking up the shirt he planned on wearing. “The elves did an awful job ironing this,” she complained.
Draco studied it for a moment. “It looks fine to me.”
“Oh, and these pants! All wrinkled. Let me just iron them quickly before you put them on.”
“Really, Hermione they look fine to me. I don’t see any wrinkles-”
“Don’t worry,” she interrupted. “It will only take a moment.” She gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek before sweeping up his clothes in her arms and leaving the room.
He quickly dried his hair and slipped on his socks. She entered the room again five minutes later with his clothes.
“Are they wrinkle-free now?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him sweetly.
*****
After apparating to the front of the Burrow, Hermione stopped Draco before they entered.
“I have one last gift for you,” she said, pulling a miniature gift bag out of her coat pocket where she had the rest of the gifts shrunken and stored. With a tap of her wand, the present returned to its normal size.
He kissed her on the lips. “Do you mind if I open it inside? I’m freezing my bollocks off out here.”
“No!” she answered quickly. “You have to open it out here. Just... make it fast.”
Shoving the colored tissue paper aside, he reached into the bag and pulled out a red and white Santa Claus hat. He stared at it for a moment. “Um... what is this?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a Father Christmas hat!”
“Yes, I see that, Hermione. But why would you give this to me as a present?”
“I thought it might get you a little more into the Christmas spirit! Go on. Put it on.”
“Hermione, I love you, but I’m not wearing this inside.”
She huffed then gave him her sweetest smile. “Please?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll try it on real fast, but I’m not wearing it inside.”
“Okay,” she said cheerfully.
He put the hat on real fast and paused for a moment to pose for her with a sexy leer. But the grin dropped from his face when he noticed the mischievous gleam in her eyes. Suddenly, a white beard and mustache began sprouting from his face and grew until it reached his chest. His normally taut stomach began expanding until he had a belly that could give Hagrid a run for his money.
He glared at his smiling wife. “What did you-”
But before he could finish accusing her, she waved her wand at him with a finite incantatem, and his clothes transformed into a red and white Santa suit. Black boots included.
Draco’s eyes bugged out of his head, and he was too dumbfounded to speak coherently. “What-what-what-”
“Isn’t it obvious? We already have our North Pole elves and holiday reindeer. We needed a Father Christmas,” she stated matter-of-factly before reaching behind him to turn the doorknob and push the door open.
He turned around and she pushed him into the doorway. For the first time since it was built, the Burrow became absolutely silent. Molly dropped the tray of cookies she had been carrying, Ron dropped some fudge he had halfway to his mouth, Bill choked on some eggnog, and everyone else was too stunned to say or do anything.
The silence was broken when Remus walked in from the kitchen, curious about the sudden quietness, and saw them in the foyer. “Happy Christmas, Hermione and... erm... Santa,” he greeted them while grinning.
Hearing those words, a wild stampede of children tackled Draco down. Harry and Ginny’s four-year-old twin boys; Bill and Fleur’s six-year-old son, five-year-old daughter, and three-year-old son; Neville and Luna’s four-year-old daughter and three-year-old son; and, of course, Fred and George. He was lucky that Hagrid, Olympe, and their two-year-old daughter were visiting Olympe’s family in France, or Draco probably would have had a few broken bones.
Draco managed to sit up on the floor and shot his wife a half-hearted glare. She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy Christmas, Santa.” After shutting the front door, she wandered into the living room-with no intentions of helping her husband-and began visiting with everyone.
Draco sat on the floor of the foyer for an hour before the children were done thanking him for all the lovely presents. Just before they began making requests for the next year, Molly interrupted and showed him upstairs so he could find something to change into.
While he had been occupied with the children, Hermione told the story of her devious plot. Everyone found it hilarious, and Fred and George even shook her hand with pride. When she noticed Molly leading Draco upstairs, she followed them up and joined her husband in Charlie’s old bedroom, closing the door behind her.
With a wave of her wand, the beard and belly disappeared.
“You evil witch!” Draco threw her down on the bed and snogged her thoroughly. “I should have known you would have been plotting all this time.”
“Did you doubt me for even a moment?” Hermione asked him with fake incredulity.
He chuckled and kissed her again. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him as he quickly changed into a pair of Charlie’s old jeans and a jumper. For a moment he stared at the red and white suit on the floor.
“I’m not sure if you’ll be able to return that suit from wherever you got it.” He sat down beside her on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. “It’s now covered in drool, urine, and melted chocolate.”
Hermione grinned at her husband. “You didn’t seem to mind the children that much.”
He stared at her for a moment before releasing his repressed grin. “Okay, I’ll admit they weren’t as bad as I would have imagined. But I’ve no clue how Molly was able to raise that same number of children. I’d be perfectly happy raising only one.”
“Only one? What about two?”
Draco thought about that for a moment. “Yes, two is good. Two would be a perfect number of children.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad that’s how you feel, because it just so happens...” Her words trailed off as she watched his eyes grow wide.
“We’re having twins?”
She smiled and nodded at him. He stood up so fast that he nearly dumped her off of his lap and onto the floor, but he caught her in time. He kissed her passionately and held her face in his hands, smiling at her. But then his face suddenly grew serious.
“What is it, Draco?”
“It’s just... I believe we’ll need to buy two more North Pole elf costumes and a Mrs. Claus dress.”
End.
Merry Christmas!