Written for MissWitchx's HPCF Occasion-A-Day Challenge/Competition, Prompt: September 11th: Hot Cross Bun Day - Write something inspired by the nursery rhyme "Hot Cross Buns." Also fulfills the Caesar's Palace Silver Challenge #03: Disdain and the HPFC If You Dare Challenge #180: Throw a Fit.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
Narcissa Malfoy stepped out onto the London street, clutching Draco's tiny hand. She glanced to left and to right, but there was no sign of a cab. She sighed in anxious frustration.
There, parked by the curb in front of the Leaky Cauldron, was the sleek black Malfoy limousine, now useless to her. She had poked, prodded, and cursed her inebriated chauffeur, but all to no avail; he was in a fire whiskey-induced stupor. He would wake up to find himself without a job, that she would swear to, but it was hardly any consolation when she was stranded in Muggle London with a five-year-old son and an armload of parcels and treats from Diagon Alley for Sunday's Easter celebration.
She could, of course, have avoided the issue altogether by traveling through magical means, but it was too late to think of that now. The Floo Network she had never even considered, as it would not do to arrive in any sort of society covered in dust and soot. As for Apparition, she didn't want to try it with Draco yet; he was still so young. However small the risk that he might get Splinched, she was not willing to take it. That had left the limo, and that, it turned out, had not been an entirely safe option either, not when the destination was a tavern. If only her shopping had not taken so long! It was getting along toward evening, and who knew what sort of Muggle ruffians might come out when the sun went down?
Narcissa stepped back inside and handed Tom a number of Sickles in exchange for keeping the limo safe until Lucius could come pick it up. Then she started off down the bustling street, hoping to locate a cab quickly. She glanced down at Draco, trailing along with his hand in hers. Poor darling, he looked so pale and tired—and he'd been so good today, too. Of course, what little boy could help pitching a bit of a fit over being told he could only have two pieces of candy, and really, it was perfectly natural for a child to whine when he'd had to follow his mother around through shop after shop all afternoon. He really didn't deserve to have to suffer this on top of everything else.
Two blocks, and no cab. How long would she have to walk? Draco was beginning to drag against her, and she wondered if she could manage to carry him on one arm and the parcels on the other.
Just then, an ugly old man in dark clothes accosted them, pushing a bakery cart. "Hot cross buns for Good Friday?" he offered. "A penny apiece, only today."
Narcissa drew her head up and quickened her pace, disdaining to spare the man even a glance.
In spite of his heavy cart, the peddler kept pace with her easily. He began to sing in a rough, tinny voice,
Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns!
If you have no daughters,
Give them to your sons.
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns!
He picked one of the buns up in a napkin and held it out. The smell of currants and frosting wafted towards her.
Draco stopped and tugged sharply on her hand. "I want one, Mummy," he said. "I really want one."
"Draco, darling—" Narcissa began.
"I want one!" Draco said, more loudly, adding that adorable little stamp of his foot she found so hard to resist.
Narcissa knelt next to him and set the parcels down, keenly aware of the old peddler staring at them expectantly. She drew her son close to her and whispered in his ear, "These are Muggle-made buns, dearest. The cook will fix you some much nicer ones when we get home."
Draco drew back and looked at her pitifully, his lower lip trembling. He did look so very tired. "But I'm hungry, Mummy," he said. "I need one." Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
The look went straight to her heart. She began to rummage in her purse for a Muggle penny. At once Draco's face dissolved into smiles, and a warm feeling filled her as she stood up to give the man the coin.
"Ah, yes, thank you, ma'am." The old man smiled, showing several missing teeth. "Just for you, I give two for a penny, one for the little one and one for yourself. Or save one for a rainy day. Give a piece to the sick, and they are healthy again. Bring it on a sea voyage, and you are safe from shipwreck. Hang it in your kitchen, and you are safe from fires, and all your bread turns out perfect." He winked.
Narcissa sniffed. The things Muggles came up with in the absence of magic!
She gave the man a stiff nod of thanks and passed both buns to Draco, who took them eagerly and began to eat as though he had had nothing all day. Poor darling, she really must get him home. She took his hand again, now sticky with frosting, and started down the street again.
Narcissa Malfoy and her son managed to catch a cab a block ahead and arrived safely back at the manor. For all her distress, the Easter feast turned out marvelously well.
Ed Shunpike was fired from his post as chauffeur the next morning, but not before he was made to pay the Malfoys a penny in recompense for the buns. It is believed that his difficulty in finding another job afterward is what led to his and later his son Stan's service on the Knight Bus, where a drunk driver is just as good as a sober one.
As for hot cross buns, they became a tradition on Good Friday in the Malfoy household—though never baked by Muggles, of course.
Note to Reviewers: Britpick me to your heart's content. I am an American, but since I'm writing for a British series, I would like to make things as accurate to the United Kingdom as I can. So please, if I get something wrong, let me know!