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mini_fest2010-12-05 08:54 am
mini_fest_mod) wrote in mini_fest2010-12-05 08:54 am
Fic: The Peacock and the Snitch
Title: The Peacock and the Snitch
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dexstarr
Rating: PG
Characters: Dobby, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy
Prompts: Christmas cookies
Warnings: None
Summary: Dobby has a very special recipe for Christmas cookies this year.
Word Count: 1400+
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR and are not mine.
A/N: Some Christmas fluff, Malfoy style.
* * *
Dobby sang softly to himself as he rolled out the cookie dough, his spindly arms pushing the rolling pin this way and that to stretch out the dough properly. Mistress Narcissa insisted that all food – especially the Christmas sweets – be prepared manually, so today he was baking sugar cookies. Dobby didn’t mind cooking and he quite liked baking; in fact, today he was eager to try a new recipe for magic frosting that he’d found in the Holiday Edition of House-Elf Weekly.
"Dobby is making cooookieeees! Dobby is making a happy Chriiiiistmaaas!" he trilled, his voice cracking excitedly as he imagined the young master’s reaction to the flying cookies he would be serving the family in a few hours.
"Ahouuuu! Ahouuuu!"
The house-elf squawked in surprise when a large white peacock suddenly appeared beneath his long nose. Dobby saw himself reflected in the peacock’s black eyes as the bird stared at him, and he jumped back when the peacock let out a mournful, "Mrouuuuu?"
Dobby’s large ears heard quiet snickering, and he looked over his shoulder to see that Master Draco was standing in the doorway to the kitchens. "Master Draco! We cannot be having peacocks in here!" Dobby flapped his arms to try and get the bird off the countertop. But the peacock ignored him and instead, with a noble toss of its head, started walking across the cookie dough rolled out on the countertop. When the house-elf saw the trail of footprints the bird was leaving in his carefully prepared dough, he yelped in dismay and levitated himself up so he could follow after the bird.
Draco swiped a cookie from the pile waiting to be frosted and took a bite as he watched Dobby try to gently shoo the peacock away. The chase was as funny as he’d hoped it would be when he’d coaxed the bird into the manor – the peacock was clearly curious about these new surroundings, and was paying no attention to the frantic house-elf as it pranced about.
When he finally cornered the bird at the end of the black granite counter, Dobby put his hands on his hips and glared angrily at the peacock. "Bad birdie! You ruin Dobby’s dough!" Yet again the bird ignored him as it slowly fanned its feathers, and the house-elf glanced to the young master. "Please, Master Draco! Birdies don’t belongs in kitchens!" Draco merely looked at him as he grabbed another cookie, and then a sudden spark of inspiration lit in the house-elf’s mind. "There will be no more cookies if birdie stays!"
At that, the blond boy’s eyes widened, and he mulled over the possibility of no more cookies. "Mmmph," he agreed, swallowing a mouthful of cookie. "Come, Snakey!" He motioned to his pet, wishing for the five hundredth time that he could rename the bird. ‘Snakey’ was not a good name for a peacock, but a five-year-old Draco had not known that. Now that he was six, he could see the absurdity of the name, but Snakey wouldn’t answer to anything else now, even though he had tried ‘Salazar’ (what a noble name!), ‘Cygnus’ (after his grandfather), and ‘Brutus’ (from the Warlock at War paper Father read him sometimes). Dratted bird.
Snakey ignored him too, and Draco stamped his foot against the stone floor. "Snakey! Now!" He waved the rest of the cookie under Snakey’s nose, and the peacock finally deigned to notice his owner. "Be right back, Dobby!" Draco cried as he backed out of the kitchen, leading the bird out by holding the cookie in front of its beak.
Dobby buried his face in his hands at Draco’s words, and wondered why the boy would be coming back. Surely the young master had wrecked enough havoc for the afternoon?
* * *
"I want a Snitch cookie!"
"Master Draco, Dobby is sorry. Dobby has no Snitch cutter."
"BUT I WANT A SNITCH COOKIE!"
Narcissa’s blue eyes widened in surprise when she entered the kitchens and saw her son waving a rolling pin threateningly at Dobby. "Draco," she called sharply, and then her hand came up to cover a laugh when he turned to look at her.
Draco, she had to admit, looked absolutely ridiculous.
He was covered in flour from head to toe; the white powder stood out starkly on the miniature black robes he wore. She preferred her dragon in blues and greens, but in the last year he had insisted in dressing just like his daddy. His little face was flushed bright red, except for the streak of white frosting on his cheek, and – were those eggshells in his hair?
"What happened, darling?" Narcissa asked as she pulled her wand from her sleeve and waved it at Draco, vanishing the various bits of shell and the dusting of flour.
"I want a Snitch cookie," Draco repeated. "But the elf," he waved the rolling pin again at Dobby, "says he can’t make one."
Narcissa arched a pale eyebrow at the house-elf, and he cowered under her stare. "Dobby is sorry, Mistress," he squeaked, pulling nervously on his ears. "Master Draco wanted to help, but Dobby needs the right shape."
Narcissa joined her son and the elf behind the granite counter. The work surface was elf height, so she knelt behind Draco and held her wand out to her son. "Want to help me make your Snitch cookie cutter?"
"Yes, Mother!" He grabbed her wand and pointed it at the cookie cutter in front of him.
Narcissa smothered another laugh as she wrapped her hand around her son’s, gently guiding his movements as she concentrated on the spell that would reshape the reindeer into a Snitch. Draco laughed gleefully as the metal warped in front of his eyes, the antlers morphing to wings and the limbs disappearing as the cookie cutter became a circle.
"Now we can make your Snitch cookies," Narcissa said, pressing a kiss to her son’s blond hair before she stood. She nodded at Dobby, and the elf rolled out some dough in front of Draco, who instantly attacked it with his new Golden Snitch cookie cutter.
When that batch of cookies went into the oven, Narcissa asked Dobby what kind of frosting he had planned on making. Too nervous to explain properly, the elf instead grabbed his recipe, ripped directly from House-Elf Weekly, and handed it to her. Draco tried to read along with her, and he started jumping around the kitchens when he saw the word ‘fly’ printed on the parchment.
"Are you sure this is safe, Dobby? I’ve never heard of such a thing."
"Yes, Mistress! Dobby is sure."
"Please Mummy? Please?"
"Oh, alright."
"YAY!"
* * *
Draco bounced excitedly as he unwrapped the long, thin package – the one Mother had insisted he save for last. He threw scraps of green and silver snake-printed paper over his shoulder as he ripped into the gift, and then shouted happily when the last bits of paper fell away to reveal a new broomstick.
"Thank you!" Draco beamed, his fingers running over the smooth wood handle, his eyes examining the neatly trimmed tail twigs.
"It’s a Nimbus 1800 prototype, Draco. Your mother thought you were too young for a real broom, but I told her you’re a big boy now."
Draco’s grey eyes were big with pride when he looked at his father. "I’ll be careful, Father."
"Why don’t you try it out?" Lucius’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at his wife over their son’s head. He was certain Narcissa wouldn’t like the idea, but it was Christmas, after all.
Draco shouted again as he swung a leg over his new broom and then kicked off. "Yesssss!" he shouted as he rocketed towards the high ceiling, and both parents smiled at the joy in his voice.
"Darling," Narcissa called, when Draco had circled around the enormous Christmas tree a few times, "come down for a moment." He did so, hovering in front of the leather sofa his parents sat on, his toes barely skimming the white wolf skin rug.
"Yes, Mother?" he asked, almost managing to hide his impatience.
Narcissa plucked a cookie off the silver plate floating on the side of the sofa and held it up. "Can you catch the Snitch, Draco?"
"Of course!"
She pointed her wand at the Golden Snitch cookie and it rose into the air, wings fluttering rapidly as it disappeared behind the fairy-lit tree. Draco whooped in delight and swooped after it, and Narcissa smirked at her husband, a how do you like that? look on her face.
"How," Lucius drawled, pulling Narcissa closer to him, "did you get a cookie to fly?"
Narcissa snuggled against her husband, resting her head on his shoulder. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" she said, smiling up at him coyly, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "I’ll tell you … if you give me my Christmas gift."
* * *
Author:
dexstarrRating: PG
Characters: Dobby, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy
Prompts: Christmas cookies
Warnings: None
Summary: Dobby has a very special recipe for Christmas cookies this year.
Word Count: 1400+
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR and are not mine.
A/N: Some Christmas fluff, Malfoy style.
Dobby sang softly to himself as he rolled out the cookie dough, his spindly arms pushing the rolling pin this way and that to stretch out the dough properly. Mistress Narcissa insisted that all food – especially the Christmas sweets – be prepared manually, so today he was baking sugar cookies. Dobby didn’t mind cooking and he quite liked baking; in fact, today he was eager to try a new recipe for magic frosting that he’d found in the Holiday Edition of House-Elf Weekly.
"Dobby is making cooookieeees! Dobby is making a happy Chriiiiistmaaas!" he trilled, his voice cracking excitedly as he imagined the young master’s reaction to the flying cookies he would be serving the family in a few hours.
"Ahouuuu! Ahouuuu!"
The house-elf squawked in surprise when a large white peacock suddenly appeared beneath his long nose. Dobby saw himself reflected in the peacock’s black eyes as the bird stared at him, and he jumped back when the peacock let out a mournful, "Mrouuuuu?"
Dobby’s large ears heard quiet snickering, and he looked over his shoulder to see that Master Draco was standing in the doorway to the kitchens. "Master Draco! We cannot be having peacocks in here!" Dobby flapped his arms to try and get the bird off the countertop. But the peacock ignored him and instead, with a noble toss of its head, started walking across the cookie dough rolled out on the countertop. When the house-elf saw the trail of footprints the bird was leaving in his carefully prepared dough, he yelped in dismay and levitated himself up so he could follow after the bird.
Draco swiped a cookie from the pile waiting to be frosted and took a bite as he watched Dobby try to gently shoo the peacock away. The chase was as funny as he’d hoped it would be when he’d coaxed the bird into the manor – the peacock was clearly curious about these new surroundings, and was paying no attention to the frantic house-elf as it pranced about.
When he finally cornered the bird at the end of the black granite counter, Dobby put his hands on his hips and glared angrily at the peacock. "Bad birdie! You ruin Dobby’s dough!" Yet again the bird ignored him as it slowly fanned its feathers, and the house-elf glanced to the young master. "Please, Master Draco! Birdies don’t belongs in kitchens!" Draco merely looked at him as he grabbed another cookie, and then a sudden spark of inspiration lit in the house-elf’s mind. "There will be no more cookies if birdie stays!"
At that, the blond boy’s eyes widened, and he mulled over the possibility of no more cookies. "Mmmph," he agreed, swallowing a mouthful of cookie. "Come, Snakey!" He motioned to his pet, wishing for the five hundredth time that he could rename the bird. ‘Snakey’ was not a good name for a peacock, but a five-year-old Draco had not known that. Now that he was six, he could see the absurdity of the name, but Snakey wouldn’t answer to anything else now, even though he had tried ‘Salazar’ (what a noble name!), ‘Cygnus’ (after his grandfather), and ‘Brutus’ (from the Warlock at War paper Father read him sometimes). Dratted bird.
Snakey ignored him too, and Draco stamped his foot against the stone floor. "Snakey! Now!" He waved the rest of the cookie under Snakey’s nose, and the peacock finally deigned to notice his owner. "Be right back, Dobby!" Draco cried as he backed out of the kitchen, leading the bird out by holding the cookie in front of its beak.
Dobby buried his face in his hands at Draco’s words, and wondered why the boy would be coming back. Surely the young master had wrecked enough havoc for the afternoon?
"I want a Snitch cookie!"
"Master Draco, Dobby is sorry. Dobby has no Snitch cutter."
"BUT I WANT A SNITCH COOKIE!"
Narcissa’s blue eyes widened in surprise when she entered the kitchens and saw her son waving a rolling pin threateningly at Dobby. "Draco," she called sharply, and then her hand came up to cover a laugh when he turned to look at her.
Draco, she had to admit, looked absolutely ridiculous.
He was covered in flour from head to toe; the white powder stood out starkly on the miniature black robes he wore. She preferred her dragon in blues and greens, but in the last year he had insisted in dressing just like his daddy. His little face was flushed bright red, except for the streak of white frosting on his cheek, and – were those eggshells in his hair?
"What happened, darling?" Narcissa asked as she pulled her wand from her sleeve and waved it at Draco, vanishing the various bits of shell and the dusting of flour.
"I want a Snitch cookie," Draco repeated. "But the elf," he waved the rolling pin again at Dobby, "says he can’t make one."
Narcissa arched a pale eyebrow at the house-elf, and he cowered under her stare. "Dobby is sorry, Mistress," he squeaked, pulling nervously on his ears. "Master Draco wanted to help, but Dobby needs the right shape."
Narcissa joined her son and the elf behind the granite counter. The work surface was elf height, so she knelt behind Draco and held her wand out to her son. "Want to help me make your Snitch cookie cutter?"
"Yes, Mother!" He grabbed her wand and pointed it at the cookie cutter in front of him.
Narcissa smothered another laugh as she wrapped her hand around her son’s, gently guiding his movements as she concentrated on the spell that would reshape the reindeer into a Snitch. Draco laughed gleefully as the metal warped in front of his eyes, the antlers morphing to wings and the limbs disappearing as the cookie cutter became a circle.
"Now we can make your Snitch cookies," Narcissa said, pressing a kiss to her son’s blond hair before she stood. She nodded at Dobby, and the elf rolled out some dough in front of Draco, who instantly attacked it with his new Golden Snitch cookie cutter.
When that batch of cookies went into the oven, Narcissa asked Dobby what kind of frosting he had planned on making. Too nervous to explain properly, the elf instead grabbed his recipe, ripped directly from House-Elf Weekly, and handed it to her. Draco tried to read along with her, and he started jumping around the kitchens when he saw the word ‘fly’ printed on the parchment.
"Are you sure this is safe, Dobby? I’ve never heard of such a thing."
"Yes, Mistress! Dobby is sure."
"Please Mummy? Please?"
"Oh, alright."
"YAY!"
Draco bounced excitedly as he unwrapped the long, thin package – the one Mother had insisted he save for last. He threw scraps of green and silver snake-printed paper over his shoulder as he ripped into the gift, and then shouted happily when the last bits of paper fell away to reveal a new broomstick.
"Thank you!" Draco beamed, his fingers running over the smooth wood handle, his eyes examining the neatly trimmed tail twigs.
"It’s a Nimbus 1800 prototype, Draco. Your mother thought you were too young for a real broom, but I told her you’re a big boy now."
Draco’s grey eyes were big with pride when he looked at his father. "I’ll be careful, Father."
"Why don’t you try it out?" Lucius’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at his wife over their son’s head. He was certain Narcissa wouldn’t like the idea, but it was Christmas, after all.
Draco shouted again as he swung a leg over his new broom and then kicked off. "Yesssss!" he shouted as he rocketed towards the high ceiling, and both parents smiled at the joy in his voice.
"Darling," Narcissa called, when Draco had circled around the enormous Christmas tree a few times, "come down for a moment." He did so, hovering in front of the leather sofa his parents sat on, his toes barely skimming the white wolf skin rug.
"Yes, Mother?" he asked, almost managing to hide his impatience.
Narcissa plucked a cookie off the silver plate floating on the side of the sofa and held it up. "Can you catch the Snitch, Draco?"
"Of course!"
She pointed her wand at the Golden Snitch cookie and it rose into the air, wings fluttering rapidly as it disappeared behind the fairy-lit tree. Draco whooped in delight and swooped after it, and Narcissa smirked at her husband, a how do you like that? look on her face.
"How," Lucius drawled, pulling Narcissa closer to him, "did you get a cookie to fly?"
Narcissa snuggled against her husband, resting her head on his shoulder. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" she said, smiling up at him coyly, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "I’ll tell you … if you give me my Christmas gift."