HOW TO TRAIN A MALFOY WIFE

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I think. Wait, I'm sure!

Summary: … also known as "How to torment and teach Draco Malfoy to be a good wife".

Pairing: Harry/Fem!Draco

Author's note: Isn't it hilarious that writers would rather change Harry Potter into female than change Draco Malfoy into one, despite the fact that Harry is the much manlier one? I had quite a good laugh when I realized this, so naturally, I wrote this fic. LOL. I threw in a bit parody here and there, hope no one take offense. It's only for a bit of fun. :D

"Draco, tomorrow, you'll get married." Lucius Malfoy announced with joyous voice, with Narcissa Malfoy next to him smiling, nodding and dabbing her teary eyes with a handkerchief.

"WHAT!!" Draco Corinne Malfoy, the heroine of this particular story, jumped out of her chair and shouted with all her considerable might. Tut tut, not very lady-like, Miss Malfoy, not very lady-like.

It seemed Mrs. Malfoy had the same thought, because she instantly chastised her daughter. "Now, now, Draco, behave. A lady must always be gentle and soft-spoken. What will your husband think?" she said, waving her handkerchief disapprovingly.

However, it seemed not the thing to say.

"My husband! You are kidding! I'm just bloody seventeen! What are you thinking?! Did your master finally muck out your brains and throw them on fire? " Draco blew her parents' ears out. Well, almost.

"Draco Malfoy, who taught you those profanities! Now we know why we must marry you off!" Lucius exclaimed.

"See? I knew we had a reason," Narcissa agreed, feeling very satisfied with herself.

At this time Draco's blood was rushing madly toward her brain, smoke threatening to whistle all through her ears. But seeing profanities would get her nowhere, Draco, a Slytherin that she was, quickly changed her method. Smart girl.

"Mother, Father," she took a deep breath and began, "could you please tell me why I should marry? Must I remind you that I'm now just seventeen, and I myself have no plan to get married so soon?"

"Nonsense!" Her mother cried, "The marriage age in the Wizarding World is twelve! You qualified ages ago. In fact, I'm amazed that no one in your school got married yet! Yours, Draco dear, is the first case in centuries!"

"Indeed," her father proclaimed proudly, "We are of the most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy. We must follow the traditions of the Old blood. We must lead the others to return to the old ways! Not to mention, the Council of Ever Cliché always demand your future husband to have a shocking, most extraordinary, definitely unusual match."

Without fault, Narcissa continued after her husband, "Just imagine, among Veela!Draco, Elf!Draco, Vampire!Draco etc and etc, only you, girl!Draco, was chosen! Must be because only you fit with the pure-blood description of our House! Draco, I'm so proud of you!" She gushed, sobbing wildly and uncharacteristically. Maybe the author hadn't done her homework, oh well.

Draco stood still like a rock. Oh, maybe it didn't sound beautiful enough. How about a tree? A doll? Stone? Mountain? Fountain? Yep, Draco stood still like a fountain. But hey, she couldn't! We must run the plot!

Why don't you ask who you are going to marry? A voice poked Draco at her ribs. She wondered how a voice could poke her ribs, but she answered nonetheless. "I don't want to hear. I have no good feelings about this. Best I save my remaining bits of sanity so that I can run away."

But you must ask, you know! Only when you ask that question, and your parents call out his name with glee and exclamation mark and all, that you can faint and the author can change the scene and continue the story. The Council outright demanded that! Besides, the voice added, sighing, the author knows no other way out.

Seeing the young woman's incredulous look, which was clearly saying she had no desire whatsoever to let the story continue, the voice poked her ribs again. Don't anger the Council. They can make things worse. They can make you become a slave or something. Maybe a masochistic slave.

Shuddering, the poor girl hastily forced herself to ask, but not before posing preparing for a dead faint – she was a Malfoy after all, though perhaps it didn't mean very much considering her parents' recent antics, "Mother, Father, whom will I marry?"

As if that was all the author, oops, the couple was waiting for, Narcissa and Lucius gleefully exclaimed, "Who else? It's Harry Potter!"

Draco adeptly fainted.

After all, practice makes perfect.