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You know the drill. I don't own any of it.

Look, Mother, I'm A Pirate

It had been a fairly average day for six-year-old Draco Malfoy. He'd had a pillow fight with Blaise, though he wasn't sure if that had been today or yesterday. Time got confusing at night. He was half-convinced that it was a scheme of Theodore's, just to puzzle Draco and make him look ridiculous when he finally deigned to seek the truth. Draco's bemused expression as the weedy boy gave him an earnest explanation of 'midnight' had been a sight Blaise had laughed at for almost an entire day. It had been then and there that Draco decided to abolish 'midnight' when he received his inheritance and could bribe the proper people into doing his biding, because if there was one thing he hated, other than beans, it was being laughed at. It would only be tomorrow when you woke up. His six-year-old brain was quite convinced that he could be elected as Minister with a slogan like that. A conversation with his exasperated father hadn't been enough to dissuade him.

After he'd woken up, when it was officially 'today' by Draco's standards, he'd been dressed up in Muggle finery and dragged out to go shopping with his mother. While he wasn't entirely sure he liked being treated like a doll by cooing women, witch and Muggle alike, he absolutely adored ice cream. And cake. And sweets of any kind, for that matter. He was provided with plenty of them whenever he went shopping, so what might have been an uncomfortable and boring experience became an extended sugar high.

At the moment he had an ice cream cone clutched in one hand, his mother's purse strap in the other. They were on their way to what his mother referred to as a 'department store'. He wasn't entirely sure he liked these, either. There were a few too many people crammed into not quite enough space for Draco's tastes. None of this mattered, because he had sprinkles on his ice cream.

There was still probably a block of walking left when he spotted it. All thoughts of ice cream abandoned along with the cone itself, Draco scooped it up. It was brown and cylindrical, rather like the spyglass he'd seen in his Uncle Jacques' portrait. He peered through it. Weren't these things supposed to magnify things? No matter, pretending would be just as much fun.

"Look, mother, I'm a pirate like Uncle Jacques!" he proclaimed delightedly.

"I see that, dear," his mother said absently. "Be a darling and put that piece of Muggle trash down while you're at it, would you?"

Draco scowled at her. "It's my spyglass, mother. I can't be a pirate without a spyglass."

His mother sighed. "I'm sure if you asked Saint Nicholas he'd bring you a real spyglass."

Draco stuck his nose in the air, doing his best impression of his father. "I already have a spyglass, mother. I need a boat. That's what I'll be asking Saint Nicholas for, after all, you can't be a pirate without a boat either," he drawled.

He missed his mother's eye roll. "Very well, dear, you're a pirate."

He looked at his mother through the spyglass. "We'll just have to pretend we're on a boat until I can get a real one," he said once he was sure she wasn't secretly laughing at him.

"Of course," his mother agreed. "What ocean are we in?"

"The Specific. That's the one with Hawaii in it, right?" Draco asked.

His mother frowned for a moment. "You mean the Pacific, don't you, Captain Draco?"

"If that's the one with Hawaii in it. You and father went to Hawaii on holiday once, didn't you? Was it pretty? Anything that fun to say has to be."

"It was lovely, dear," his mother assured him.

"That's Captain Draco to you," he reprimanded haughtily.

"Of course, Captain," his mother agreed.

He wouldn't answer to anything else for almost two months, nor would he give up the ratty cardboard tube. It is interesting to note that Saint Nicholas did indeed bring him a boat, and a pond as well, though neither were quite as large as he'd hoped.

Thanks for reading.