Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me; all I do is play with the characters.
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Guidelines: Must be DG centred and be Cinderella-based. (Doesn't have to follow story exactly; just has to include the basic storyline that can include but is not limited to poor girl, missing slipper, confused prince, etc.) The more creative the better Masquerade balls accepted.
Bonus Points:
-If one of your characters eats a muffin.
-If you pose Draco as Cinderella and not be AU.
Of Shoes, Kisses and Magic Wishes
"And that was how I, your very handsome uncle, saved the Wizarding world once again!" finished Blaise Zabini, who still maintained his very handsome features despite the white strands in his hair and the wrinkles adorning his eyes. He smiled at the children, just as deviously as he had at sixteen.
Cheers and giggles erupted from his crowd at the conclusion of the epic story but soon disappeared, replaced by frowns at his mention of them having to go up to bed.
"One more!" begged a red-haired girl wiggling on the carpet, her grey eyes shining as she looked at the older man
"Please," she was quick to add, turning her face into what he dubbed as the 'Dead Pygmy Puff Face'. Soon the other two children had joined the instigator in begging for another bed time tale to be told.
Finally, after counting mentally up to ten a true Slytherin, Blaise displayed a ghost of a smirk and said, "Alright. But just one more!"
He paused, giving time for the youngsters to celebrate, before clearing his throat and adding, now in his enigmatic story teller voice, "This is the story of how the Wizarding world discovered Draco had stinky feet . . . "
x
. . . It all started that fatidic Tuesday during my Christmas break in seventh year. That was the day that I decided to pay Draco a visit. I was, after all, his best friend, and Pansy had been nagging me the entire week about how her 'Precious Cupcake' was ignoring her.
"I never heard Aunty calling Daddy a cup-"
"Shh, let us hear the story!"
So, as I was saying, it was because of Pansy that I had gone that day to the Great Malfoy Manor. To my surprise, instead of finding my dear friend lounging in his bedroom ordering his house elves around, I found him in the entrance hall, scrubbing off the grand staircase armed only with a toothbrush. As his great friend, I obviously did not laugh, as you are doing right now, but approached him soberly and politely asked-
"Are you sure you are telling the story right?"
Yes. And politely asked, "Draco what are you doing?" This seemed to irritate him for seemingly no reason, and he pointed his wonder wizard toothbrush at me, whispering in an angry voice, "If I had my wand-"
"But you don't!" I replied giving my most dazzling smile that surely reflected off the tiles of the house. Of course, Draco was never one to know how to lose, so he gave a strangled cry that came close to the sound emitted by a banshee, accompanied by the glare.
"Oh!"
"I once saw daddy giving the glare to Uncle Ron."
Yes, mon petit amis, he gave me the glare. But I, having seen the initial stages of that facial expression while growing up, which resembled a baby with a bad toothache, was not affected.
So Draco, seeing my strong will as I sat down on the spot he had just finished scrubbing, decided that was the perfect moment to erupt in a very colourful rant of why he was there. It involved his mother, tea, a young lady and a cupboard. . .
But I shall tell you that story one other time, perhaps when you are all older. Anyway, soon your father finished his elaborate rant and left me staring at the many portraits adorning the house walls -
"What is 'adorning'?"
"He means the portraits that were on the walls. But Uncle Blaise, there aren't any portraits in the entrance hall."
There were once upon a time. Before your mother decided that they should go and spend some quality time with the hostess of the House of Black, the wonderful Walburga. Now, where was I?
"You were in the part where you were bored."
Blaise Zabini is never bored, that is such a . . . Muggle word. I was not-so-entertained with your father; after all, he was ignoring me in favour of the staircase before him. At that moment, as if reading my mind, an owl -
"What kind of owl?"
Hmm, a . . . big owl.
What was its colour? Did it have a name? Mum said I could have an owl when I turn eleven!"
It was a white owl, and let's leave it at that. So an owl started making an infuriating racket at the window, forcing your father to leave what he was doing to see what the creature wanted.
"Let's not forget that I was giving you "the glare" while I did it!"
x
"Daddy!"
Ginny Weasley came in after her husband, just in time to see him being tackled by their children. She smiled and decided that since she was going to be ignored in favour of their dad, she should go thank Blaise for staying with the little monsters while she and Draco went out to have dinner with Ron and Hermione.
"I hope they didn't give you too much trouble," she said kissing her old friend on each cheek.
"No, not at all," he replied "I was telling them the story."
"So I noticed," chirped Draco in a failed attempt to sound serious. He tried to free himself from Orion and Lucius, who were trying to climb up his back and the cat that was trying to murder his shoes.
Blaise laughed at his friends predicament before adding in a sober tone to the children, "Looks like I'll have to finish the story next time."
"No. You can't do that!"
"And why is that, my young lady?" Ginny asked, laughing at Ellie as she put her hands on her hips in a perfect imitation of her aunt Hermione.
"Because you never leave a story tale in the middle. It's against the rules."
"Well, we wouldn't want to go against the rules then, now would we?" Ginny winked at her little monsters, pointing them to the carpet before her. "Well, I shall tell you what I was doing while your father and uncle where having such a fascinating conversation about . . . "
"Toothbrushes!"
She rolled her eyes as Draco glared at Blaise. Some things just never changed.
x
So while two young men were discussing, hmm, dental hygiene at the manor, I was stuffing myself with muffins at the twins apartment. They were freshly baked and just brought in by George's newest admirer. I knew they weren't for me, but since he was too busy downstairs in the store, I felt I should treat myself. Leaving them to get cold would be a waste.
I was biting on the very last muffin when I heard the door open. Before I could run away and leave the missing muffins mystery to be blamed on Crookshanks, a very indignant George stood before me, with Percy just behind him. The latter was wearing an expressing that clearly said 'I am very proud of myself!' all across his freckled face.
"Those were for me!" George exclaimed, noticing the empty plate in front of me.
"Were they?" I innocently asked. (Remember children, denial is always the best tactic.) I am sure your uncle would've bothered me some more, but your other uncle interrupted him.
"Never mind George. I have a very interesting proposal for you, Ginny."
"Yes . . ." I trailed, waiting for him to fill me in with the boring details of how he discovered the secret to create shocking pink cauldrons that chant the lyrics of Celestina Warbeck every time you use them.
"As you know the ministry is arranging the preparations for the International Magic Convention that is to be held in Singapore at the end of July." He paused, and I nodded for him to continue. "Two Hogwarts students are to be chosen to serve as representatives of Hogwarts School, and with a little word put in by me, they chose you as one of them!"
"What about Hermione?" I cleverly asked.
"She decided to stay here with me," George replied. "July is a quiet month since everybody is away and we haven't had much time to-"
"Okay, George. I get it! No need for going in to details!" I interrupted choking on the last piece of brownie due to the influx of inappropriate thoughts of what my brother and my best friend did when I wasn't looking. You see, back then, your uncle George still hadn't found your aunty Angelina and was dating Hermione. So, well, at that age (and even now) I did not want to think about their private activities.
"Ew."
Yes. 'Ew' is quite the feeling I was trying to express, Lucius.
Back to the story. After hearing a not-so-pleasant excuse as to why I was to serve as a Hogwarts sample at the convention, which I was very excited to go to, even if I would not admit it, I asked who was going to be my partner. Percy was quick to clarify.
"That is the exciting part," I cringed at the idea of what the term exciting meant in Percy's books, "You are going to be able to chose your 'escort' to the convention at a ball that is talking place tomorrow at the Ministry. Young men from Hogwarts will appear and you will be able to chose the one that most interests you. I trust you to make a wise decisio-"
"A ball?" I gulped when Percy's sentence finally dawned on me "But I hate balls!"
"Now, Ginevra," he admonished in his most boring voice, It will be very interesting, and it's a huge opportunity."
"But I don't have anything to wear," I said, hoping he would give up.
But George, still obviously upset about the muffins, came up with a fantastic idea. "Hermione can lend you a dress."
"But-"
"No buts, Ginevra," Percy said, ending the discussion. "Either you will go to the ball and choose a young man of your preference or you will go and we will choose one for you."
I'd already lost, I didn't need Percy to go and pick someone as boring as himself (if that was even possible) and make me endure him for the entire trip."Fine."
"Oh, this sounds just like that story Aunty Mione told me was it called? Cinderelly? "
"Cinderella!"
"Yes, that's it! Was aunty Mione your fairy godmother?"
"No. I didn't quite have a fairy godmother. Actually, it was your dad that got to have one."
" But how?"
"I believe that is my cue to start off were I had left off . . . So back to my point of view, also known as Uncle Blaise's terrifically fascinating point of view."
x
So, as you might have guessed the white owl pestering us at the Manor had our invitations to the Ministry Ball that was to be held the following night. Draco was very excited-
"I don't get excited."
"Yes you do."
"Ginny!"
Let me rephrase: Draco was very pleased at the invitation. He was sick of being grounded because of the 'Tea Cupboard' incident and thought it was the perfect excuse to evade the house for awhile. Obviously, your grandmother, Narcissa, didn't fall for this and forbade him to go. Obviously, that led to a lot of whining from your dad.
"I-"
"Shh!"
So to avoid your dad getting depressed, I decided to rescue him. On the night of the ball, I convinced your grandmother to go the Opera, and with my Nimbus 2001, I helped your father escape from his bedroom window. I even fabricated a gown out of thin air.
"Ahem!"
I mean, I mugged a set of dress robes out of Gregory Goyle's closet to the displeasure of your dear father, who could not stop complaining about how big they were. Unfortunately, I was never the best at shrinking charms, so all his rattling was useless.
In fact, by the time we arrived at the Ministry, your dad had managed to lose the upper part of the gown He said it was because of the wind, but it wasn't the poor weather's fault that your father was an extremely skinny-
"Hey! I wasn't skinny"
"Of course not."
"It wasn't my fault Goyle's clothes were enormous."
-person. That brought us a new problem since your father could step into the ballroom half-naked.
"Not that the ladies would min-Ouch! Ginny!"
To our luck, that issue was quickly solved. Upon our entrance, your father was approached by a house elf who threw a uniform at him and dragged him to the kitchen mumbling, "There you are! Mister is not to be dressing in the hall, Mister will disrupt guests. You must go get platters to serve!"
"Stop laughing. It was not funny."
"Sure it wasn't. Anyway, I believe it's my turn to tell the story now since Blaise ignored you being mistreated and proceeded to party as if there was no tomorrow."
x
So there was I, extremely bored in a silky blue dress your aunt had lent and correctly fitted for me. I hated balls ; every man present was throwing himself at me, desperate to get the spot to travel to Singapore. I couldn't even see who they were since they were wearing masks to stop me from being unfair in the choosing of my partner. As if, I was not a Slytherin.
It was during this that I spotted in the far left corner of the room . . . muffins! I walked towards the man holding the tray, intent on devouring them to drown my frustrations. I was so distracted by the rich chocolate texture of the baked goods that I didn't notice where I was walking and fell into the most obvious of clichés.
"What's a cliché?"
"A cliché is a saying, expression, idea, or element of an artistic work which has been overused to the point of losing its original meaning or effect, rendering it to a stereotype."
"I don't get it, Ellie. "
It's something that happens so many times it becomes ridiculous. I should have known better and avoided that particular cliché, but the muffins were occupying my entire train of thought. It actually came to me as a complete surprise when I bumped into someone and watched little pieces of brown flying all over me.
"I am so sorry!" I apologised suddenly forgetting about the muffins.
"You!" An angry drawl came out of the boy's mouth.
"Excuse me?" I tried to remember where I knew that voice, but unfortunately, the individual in front of me was also wearing a mask. He did, however, seem to be about my age, so the fact he was working instead of being here amongst the prestige hungry baboons was bothering me.
Maybe he was Squib.
"Aren't you supposed to be attending the ball?" I enquired in what I believed was my most subtle voice.
"Well, what does it look like I am doing?" he answered, and if his face hadn't been hidden I am sure I would have seen him raise an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were-" I started, trying to apologise. But obviously the boy (whose identity I didn't know at the time) interrupted me.
"You thought wrong then. This is my costume." He pointed to his blue and yellow robes, the Ministry colours, which clashed horribly with his apparent blond hair.
Perhaps he was a Squib, pretending not to be. I decided I would save him from the horrid ball. (My attitude was extremely selfless, I honestly gained nothing in escaping the men who instated on smothering me with small talk.)
"Hmm, I see. Do you want to go outside?" I cleverly asked.
"Actually, no, I don't Weas-"
"Was that a yawn I heard, Orion?
"No."
"There you go again. Maybe we should leave the rest of the story for tomorrow."
"No! We can't do that. It's against the rules. Mum, why don't you just skip to the interesting part?"
"So I wasn't being interesting?"
"You were. But we want to hear about the kissing part."
"Ew."
"It's not 'ew'. How do you think you were born?"
"Ellie!"
"Please . . ."
Okay, okay. So a couple of hours and a lot of drama later, your now-maskless father and I were lounging by the fountain outside. It was getting rather cold, and I began to unconsciously shiver, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by –
"Mum, Orion is falling asleep. Can you just cut it to the actual kissing?"
"Oh, how about you tell it, Draco. We haven't heard your point of view of the tale yet. "
"I think Gin is doing an excellent job."
"Oh, pleeease, Daddy!"
x
Very, well. So close to twelve o'clock (because that was time I had to leave to stop my mother from discovering I had left the house during her trip to the Opera), your mother and I kissed.
"That's not right, Daddy! You are supposed to describe the kiss. For example : I noticed Ginny's eyes coming closer and closer to mine as each second passed ...Suddenly I felt her warm lips over mine and fluttered my eyes shut-"
"Where did you learn that, young lady?"
"I am going to talk to Fleur about those books she's been giving you."
"Daddy, I don't know if you've noticed, but I am not a little child anymore."
"Oh, really?"
x
No need for you to get into a fight with your dad, Ellie. I'll tell you exactly how the kissing went. Soon after we left the ballroom, I discovered your father was, in fact, your father - a miserable Malfoy, as I liked to say at the time. His identity wasn't terribly difficult to guess at; after all, there is only one person in the world, besides our late Professor Snape, who can drawl in every sentence. Without wasting any time, we started an argument. That led to another argument that led to yet anoth-
"Malfoys don't argue; we discuss."
- Fine. We were in the middle of discussing if I was cold or not when your father said he had to go, mumbling something about broom cupboards and midnight.
I was going to give your dad a goodbye peck on the cheek, just to annoy him, but he tripped over a rock and his mouth ended over mine. Being the hormonal teenagers we were, that led to a full-fledged snogging session. There!
"That is not romantic at all!"
"But it is what happened. I still remember your dad telling me about it when I returned to the Manor that night..."
"And I remember you laughing at it like the good friend you were."
"Now let's not have resentments over things that are long gone. Anyway, since it was I, your uncle Blaise, who started the telling of this story, it shall be I who will end it."
x
Your parents were so distracted by the activities they were engaging in that they only noticed what they were doing when the Ministry's grand clock struck midnight.
Dear Draco here scrambled immediately away from your mother, mumbling words that should not be a part of a high-society man's vocabulary, leaving only a very stinky shoe behind.
When your mother told Hermione about it she laughed and told Ginny about the Muggle fairy tale. Your mother, being the feisty one, made sure everyone at Hogwarts started referring to Draco as Cinderella, which, in my opinion, is an improvement on Ferret Boy.
She kept the shoe with her for weeks, until your dad barged into her Potions class one day to claim back his footwear. This earned both of them a full month of detention, where they got to know each other much better. A lot of romantic eye-fluttering kissing was involved during said detentions. The end.
"See, Daddy! That's how you're supposed to tell a story!"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written as a belated Birthday present for Ellie (who I hoped enjoyed this piece). It was Beta'ed by the lovely Julia (Julia Claire). Feel free to review, I appreciate criticism or just knowing that my stories are appreciated.
Re-uploaded because last night when I uploaded it I didn't notice half the pesky errors (my fault) in it. Sorry!