A/N: I swore I don't want or need a drabble collection. Really, I firmly believed that. But this week, I looked at all the drabbles I've written so far and thought maybe someone here likes to read them?
The collection is an unrelated series of drabbles written for different occasions. Some just for fun, some were prompted, some for little comps. All of them have been published in different fb groups or on tumblr or on my own fb page. Most of them are Dramione.
As a rule, they're unbeta'ed. So, no, I don't want to hear that there are errors. I know that. But if you want to leave a review, you're welcome!
Disclaimer for all of them: The characters aren't mine and I don't make any money with this.
This was written for Draco's birthday in June:
Draco stood in front of the bathroom mirror, scrutinizing himself critically. There were some wrinkles next to his eyes—laughing lines, he supposed (a definite first within the Malfoy legacy). His hairline was...still where it used to be, and the grey of his irises was as bright as ever.
"I'm starting to think that this platinum colour is a mere tactic to cover grey hairs," came the warm voice from the door, where his wife leaned, her silken nightgown clinging perfectly to her curves. Especially around her rounded middle.
"Absolutely not!" Draco stated, pouting a bit.
Hermione giggled, approaching him. She sneaked her arms around him and slipped under his. "Don't worry, you're getting more attractive every day. You're still turning more witches' head than I like."
"As long as I'm still turning yours…" he trailed off, peppering open-mouthed kisses along her neck. He wanted desperately to unwrap his favorite present when a scream resonated from downstairs.
"DAD! Happy birthday!"
Draco groaned into Hermione's curls.
"Why are you screaming like that, Scorpius?"
"Because Uncle Harry said old people like you lose their hearing!"
His wife laughed, a lovely sound he couldn't get enough of. Ever.
"Then remind Potter that he's not even two months younger than me!"
"Okay!"
"Best floo over and tell him personally!"
"Will do, Dad!"
"Wow, I didn't expect him to actually go!" the now 37-year-old wizard wondered.
"Well, I might have sent Ginny an owl, telling her to prepare some extra breakfast for our little munchkin."
"You're a genius!" Draco cheered, enveloping his fabulous witch in a searing kiss.
"Hmmmh, I know. Let's see what you think of me when you see what's beneath this bathrobe."
He was a Slytherin, after all, and sneaked a peak.
"Happy birthday, Draco."
Oh, yes, Draco was a happy man indeed.
