Then he put her over his shoulder and started marching down Diagon Alley, nodding and waving to passers-by. Her shouted threats and extremely vivid descriptions of how his privates would look when she was done with them merely elicited comforting pats to her bottom, and drew- how unfair!- sympathetic comments and thumbs-up from their audience.
It was only when she started to cry that he put her down. "Why the tears, sweet?" He said as he shushed and soothed her, drawing her close so she could cry into his robes. All traces of jocularity were gone and he seemed genuinely perplexed.
"You never give me a choice. You always just do what you want and you never give me a choice," she choked out.
He smiled. "Why should I bother, when I know exactly what you want?" Here eyes narrowed and she struggled out of his embrace. "Oh bollocks. All right, go ahead choose." He paused and looked at her warningly. "But if you choose wrong, I'll just Obliviate you." He didn't seem to be kidding.
She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, making a pretence of drawing it out. "Well of course I choose you," she finally said.
"Of course," he said with customary arrogance, but betrayed his jubilance by grabbing her and swinging her around. "Why of course?"
She smiled a wicked smile. "Because..."
"Because??" He echoed warningly.
She leant in and whispered with a blush, "Because I love you, of course," then hid her face in the crook of his neck.
"Of course." And strong arms pulled her close and held her there for a long time.
"Can I carry you to my lair over my shoulder, just for appearance' sake?"
"Yes," she said with a sigh, and he moved to pick her up. "Just a minute."
"What?"
"This." And she kissed him.
A/N: This is just a drabble I did. I deliberately left it from a neutral POV so if anyone wants to write a prequel they're welcome. Although no-one is named, it's D/Hr of course (hopefully you can tell from the way he acts) and of course nothing belongs to me except this tiny piece of a plot.
Please review!