Dear Cats, This Is War
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Draco Malfoy hated her cats. It didn't matter if his children loved them, or if his wife doted on them like two additional children. Never mind that his youngest daughter takes the light orange one and carries it around like a baby, her blond curls bouncing with enthusiasm.
None of that mattered, though, he figured, since those two felines were the bane of his existence. Once they had arrived in the house a year and a half ago, he had tried to be cordial, to say the least with those four legged things, but whenever someone forced him to touch of them they would hiss and bit him, bloody hell! That was not acceptable!
He was the head wizard of this family, the paterfamilias, by Merlin, and he was going to get rid of those cats! This was war.
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7:00 am
"Draco, what are you doing hiding out behind the couch?"
Cautiously the man in question looked over the top of the lush, leather sofa, which had been in the family for years. He glared at what he saw; the Malfoy matriarch petting his sworn enemies for life, which had currently taken to sitting on the matching chair, opposite the couch. He could see their cat hairs dirtying up the Malfoy crest in the center from here he was. "Well, if you must know, I'm declaring war."
His wife laughed at him, "Really, Draco, honestly? Are you still going on about Cassie and Richie?"
Draco sneered, "Don't give them names."
"Oh, that's right," Hermione Malfoy said with complete sarcasm as she picked up the orange one, Richie, and rubbed her nose against his, "We're not supposed to give the cutie kitties names."
"I will stay here, in this spot, until I capture those felines into a kennel and ship them off somewhere far away from here."
She scoffed as she put her cat back down; this seemed like a promising day, "Well, darling, I hope you have a wonderfully chipper day blowing off all work that you had on your agenda today. After all, you seem to have more important things to attend to. I'll probably send the kids by to check on you every once and awhile to make sure you're still among us, the living."
"Oh well, thank you very much, very nice of you. You're vote of confidence is overwhelming, love."
"Anytime, Drakie-poo."
"Stop saying that!"
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8:00 am
Hermione looked up from her Daily Prophet as her eldest daughter, Clara, age fifteen, stumbled in, clothes rumpled, but hair, seemingly perfect and face, flawless with the help of some special witch's makeup. Laughing to herself, Clara's mother wondered who exactly she thought she was going to see at breakfast.
Of course breakfast had been made already, for the younger ones, the twins, Isaac and Markus, age twelve, the eight-year-old Troy, and adorable baby of the family, four-year-old Sarafina. Pancakes and sausage had satisfied them, however, and they were probably already playing somewhere around in the huge Malfoy Manor. She briefly pondered if any of them had found the location of their father. He was always their favorite playmate, and she was sure that the children would be upset to know that their childhood hero wouldn't be able to play today as he was trying to capture their cats.
What a silly man, her husband was.
"Good morning, Mum," Clara yawned.
"Good morning, Clara. Would you mind doing me a small favor?"
After the younger brunette had shrugged her nonchalance, Hermione went back to reading her newspaper, "Would you mind checking the formal living room for your father? He's trying to capture the cats again, and I would like to make sure he doesn't kill himself."
It only took her a couple minutes to do the desired task, Hermione noted, as she heard the huffing that only a teenage girl could pull off so well. And she had only gotten halfway through the article on the crookedness of the Ministry nowadays…
"He's fine, seems to be plotting something, though. Mum, I think he's completely nutter."
Turning the page, Hermione nodded, "That's your father for you…"
"And I told him what you said," She added, putting some leftover pancakes on a plate for yourself, "He told me to tell you that 'You can die too for all I care'. That's horrible, Mum!"
Hermione smiled over her Daily Prophet at Clara, "When you marry Draco Malfoy, you better get used to comments like that."
"But he's acting mental!"
"Well yes, he's that too."
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9:00 am
Quickly stepping out of the Floo entrance in the Malfoys' exclusively large library, Blaise Zabini shook off his suit jacket, and was found to be facing his best mate's wife, sitting comfortably in a loveseat, books forming mountains around her.
"Why hello, Blaise," She smiled, "What can I do for you?"
He grinned in return, "Have you seen that good for nothing husband of yours? I've had to talk to him about some work stuff all morning, and I can't seem to get a hold of him."
Watching as her face turned pink with restrained laughter, the Italian could tell that, obviously, there was something that he didn't know.
"Well, my 'good-for-nothing husband' as you so kindly dub him, is currently in my living room, trying to figure out a way to capture our cats and sell them. He refuses to leave until he succeeds."
Zabini burst out in laughter, "Draco? A grown man? With cats? Come on, Hermione, where is he?"
"Oh, you don't believe me?" She raised an eyebrow and got up, "Follow me, you'll see."
And he did see, and he also couldn't believe the sight that was laid out in front of him. Draco Malfoy, his best mate, the boy he had grown up with, had set up camp behind his own couch. There was food, a tent, a sleeping bag, binoculars, boxes, kennels, traps. Draco never did things by halves, Blaise had learned, but honestly, wasn't this taking things a little too far? "I will never doubt again."
Hermione shrugged, "Its Draco, what do you expect? He's not getting what he wants, so he finds a way to get what he wants."
"This is true."
"I can hear you!"
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10:00 am
Xavier, the Malfoy heir, finally emerged from his room, thoroughly pleased with the amount of sleep he had received, only to find his house in utter chaos. His youngest siblings were running all over the place, Clara was trying to calm them down and keep them out of the formal living room.
After a yawn, the seventeen year old inquired, "What's in the living room?"
She rolled her eyes, "Go in there and see for yourself."
Unable to resist the challenge, he opened the large wooden door, to find his father, the head of a company, dignified and always collected, behind a couch, frantically plotting against their cats, who were taking yet another nap on an opposite chair.
"Father? What are you…"
The older man, with almost identical features waved his hand, "Not now- I'm so close to getting those damned cats!"
Piting his father, since quite cleary he lost his marbles, Xavier nodded, "Well, you're doing well."
"Really?" Draco Malfoy looked at his eldest offspring.
"No, not really."
"They why did you-"
"I just want you to feel you're doing well. I hate for people to die embarrassed."
Draco narrowed his eyes into a fierce glare, "I taught you to only use those snarky remarks against your mother."
Exiting the room, his son shrugged, "What can I say? I've expanded."
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11:00 am
"Dad, what are you doing?"
"You realize the rest of the family has come to the conclusion that you are indeed completely nutter."
"Off your rocker."
"Lost your marbles."
"Non compos mentis.
"Mental, to say the least."
Looking up at his two twin sons, Isaac and Markus, for the first time ever he scowled at their brightness. This was all Hermione's doing, he figured, sending the children down to antagonize him.
"Well, Isaac and Markus, actually, I am taking back the control of this house, and my first step as to regaining my title of paterfamilias is to get rid of those felines."
Markus leaned into his identical brunette brother, "Definitely non compos mentis."
Draco narrowed his eyes at his two, somewhat ingenious sons; they took after their mother way too much, "I will succeed."
Isaac snorted and noted quietly back to Markus, "I guess this is where Troy's inflexible tendencies and gene make-up came from. We should note this."
"Don't talk about your brother that way," Their father said almost automatically, already back to eyeing the felines, "Maybe if I set up a trap…"
"Non compos mentis."
No taking his eyes off of his prey, the retired Slytherin Prince snorted, "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
Taking his twelve-year-old, know-it-all tendencies and applying to, with the one and only goal to outwit his father, Markus gave his father a dreary expression, "Latin. Being mentally unsound; mentally incapable of dealing with one's own affairs."
There was a pause in the conversation.
"Get out."
"Take note of the hostile tone-"
"OUT!"
"Mummy! Mummy! Father yelled at us!"
"DRACO!"
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Noon
Joshua Parkinson-Weasley loved coming to the Malfoy Manor to play with his best friend in the entire world, Troy Malfoy. He had never actually met Uncle Draco, as his mother talks about him, but he's seen him with Auntie Hermione at Mummy's parties; she makes him muggle cookies when he comes.
And when Troy did take Josh downstairs to meet his daddy, he was surprised to see Uncle Draco hiding behind a couch, eying the cats with muggle binoculars (his grandpa had told Josh about those one time, he remembered).
And he was even more surprised when Troy told him that his daddy was trying to capture their cats so he could send them to a place called Timbuktu for a vacation.
It all seemed very dangerous to him, so he frowned and said, "But I don't want to hurt the kitties."
"I've hired you to help me start a war,"Draco tried to calmly explain, "It's a prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition."
Troy shrugged at his best mate and took a spot next to his dad, "So what do we do?"
Then Draco proceeded to tell them Operation Kidnap the Cats.
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1:00 pm
Draco Malfoy still tried to hold himself with some sort of dignity, even if his multiple plans had failed. He had tried to lure those felines into a false sense of security by acting all nice and sweet. He bribed them with treats. He put a fresh box of kitty litter out for them in hopes that maybe he could sneak up on then when they had their pants down… metaphorically of course.
Instead, of course, the cats had merely ignored him, and amazingly kept their bladders in check for the entire day.
It just wasn't fair.
And this is exactly what he told his wife when she came down to check on him, pout and all, "This is so unfair it's painful."
But she had only laughed and made her way back into the kitchen taking his two accomplices, his own son and his best friend with her, "Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something. Now, I made the boys those cookies they love, and if you would like to give this silly plan off, you could have some if you'd like."
"Never!"
"That's what I figured."
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2:00 pm
"Are you giving up yet sweetheart?"
"No."
"You know, there's not a lot of money in revenge."
"This isn't about the money. It's getting those bloody cats out of this house."
"Well, are you sure you want to continue this horribly executed plan?"
"Yes!"
"Positive?"
"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks, so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop distracting me."
"Whatever you say, Drakie-poo."
"STOP SAYING THAT!"
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8:30 pm
Quietly, little Sarafina made her way downstairs to see Daddy. It was almost her bedtime, and Mummy said that he had been in the living room all day trying to take the kittens somewhere.
She had missed her daddy. Usually they would play all day together after he had finished working, but they didn't get to today, since he didn't work that day. She wondered if they would get to have a tea party with her magic tea set tomorrow.
Sitting down, Sarafina Malfoy, age four, giggled loudly as her father scooped her up and put her in his lap, tickling her until they were hushed by Mummy.
Together, they watched the cats, planning their next move… with a little giggle here or there.
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9:00 pm
Picking up their sleeping daughter from her husband's lap, Hermione gently put sweet Sarafina's head in the crook of her neck. Her blond curls fell in front of her face, and Hermione made a mental note to give her an extra kiss as she tucked her in.
Looking back at Draco, who was obviously physically and mentally tired, she sighed, "Don't you think it's time to give this up now? You won't even get to put Sarafina to bed…"
"Thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject," He practically growled, "While you're at it, why don't you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?"
"Don't get testy with me," She scolded, taking her exit, "All I'm saying is that you should give this up sooner or later. The family won't think any less of you…"
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10:19 pm
Sliding into his bed, Draco Malfoy, the paterfamilias, pulled his sleeping wife close to him, kissing her on the head.
Sometimes he wondered how he always got into these types of messes, the cats weren't that bad. So he got scratched once; in order to be the head of the family, he would need to show a tough exterior for his boys. He was a role model, bloody hell.
Floating out of consciousness and into dreamland, he decided this.
And, well, that was the plan until the cats slept on his face.
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Fin.
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Author's Note.
WHAT?! OVER 2,000 WORDS?! Longest oneshot ever of mine. Just thought I should let you know, because I'm proud of myself (:
Anyway, this is for The Princess Bride Quote Challenge by violet-pheonix-rose, and I used quotes 1-4, 6-8, 10, 12, 14, 15-16. Basically all the ones in italics.
And I know the kids of Hermione and Draco seem confusing but here's a list of them (maybe it will help): Xavier, 17, Clara, 15, Isaac and Markus, twins, 12, Troy, 8, and Sarafina, 4.
Hope you enjoyed!
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