Written for Femslash February 2019's seventh prompt: Disaster.
Potions Everywhere
"Draco," Witch says through gritted teeth, "do you want to explain what just happened here?"
Draco ruminates, her exaggerated pose only furthering Witch's anger. She taps her chin and glances around, taking in the mess of potions staining the carpet. She looks over her shoulder at the broken cauldron, which is still leaking out an unknown oily liquid that's beginning to seep into her flats. Raising her tail as it drips with the strange concoction, Draco clears her throat and grips her hips.
"Well, if I gave my best opinion, I'd say all your potions fell over."
Witch's broom snaps in her hands. Draco winces, a high-pitched yelp escaping the back of her throat. She watches Witch's eye twitch as she surveys the damage. She doesn't even seem to care that her own shoes are getting soaked, and Draco bites her lower lip, unsure of what else to say.
She may have just caused Witch's cauldron to topple over with a careless thump from her tail, which in turn bumped into Witch, who threw her arms out to catch herself. Unfortunately, she had slapped one vial into another on a shelf, causing a chain reaction of potions leaking out all over the carpet of Witch's home. Liquids bubbled as they hit the floor and stained Witch's gown and hair, leaving her looking like a wet mop.
Strange chemicals continue blending together, leaving a smoky scent lingering through the small home. The temptation to cover her nose rises, but Draco's more wary of Witch's brewing rage. She manages to quirk her lips into a grin and takes a hesitant step towards the door.
"Um, I, uh, think I should go get some help," she says, a dry chuckle rounding past her chattering teeth.
"What I think," Witch interjects before Draco can ran, "is that you owe me because I was making one of my grandmother's potions, and you cost me a fortune since I sell the potions on the shelves."
Agitation weighs heavily on Draco's shoulders. She had been hoping to dash away and maybe bring back Arle to quell Witch's fury, but her quiet tone seizes her wariness. She knows she should be very, very afraid, but the displaced, cunning smile on Witch's face unsettles her. While she may not be the smartest among her friends, Draco is more than aware that Witch is planning something.
"As you know, people shell out a lot of dough for my potions. After all, they can do all sorts of things." Witch steps closer to Draco, the squelching of her boots mingling with the faint dripping of assorted potions. She clutches the pieces of her broom by her side with white-knuckled intensity. "My grandmother's potion, however, was special."
She pales. The assumed severity of her mistake causes guilt to pool in her stomach. Draco runs her fingers through her short green hair and mumbles an apology.
Witch tilts her head, standing on her tiptoes and coming closer to the off-put Draco. "That's why, I think you should pay me back."
"And-and how do you want me to do that? I didn't-you know, I didn't mean it." Draco fumbles for words, heat rising her throat and threatening to burst out in embarrassed, smog-ridden coughs. She grits down on her molars, scarlet scorching her cheeks.
Witch leans closer, and Draco feels the smooth, cold edge of the cauldron press into her back. Instinctively, she clutches the round rim as Witch drops the splintery remnants of her broomstick. Swallowing, Draco tries to speak when Witch jerks forward, planting a gentle kiss on her lips.
Eyes widening, Draco pulls back as Witch breaks into a giggling fit. The shorter magician skips to the door, leaving Draco more than flustered as she tries to reason with the range of emotions Witch had just shown. Brow furrowing, Draco spews out a short gasp of fire and balls her hands into fists.
"Heeey! You were just pretending to be mad!"
"Sooorry." Witch winks and cups her cheek. "I just wanted to tease the girl I love for a moment. Maybe I took it too far, but you did cause a huge mess."
Grumbling, Draco crosses her arms and purses her lips, savoring the softness of Witch's kiss. Before she can complain, Witch tosses a nearby bucket and handful of rags at her. Yelping, she catches them, faintly registering what her punishment will be before Witch can say it.
"I gotta clean all by myself? That's not fair! You fell into the other potions!" She hangs her head, her tail splashing in the murky mess.
"Oh, don't whine. I'll only be gone for about an hour to get the proper ingredients for my grandmother's potion. I'll help when I come back." She huffs only for another mischievous smile to play on her lips. "If you clean up nicely by the time I come home, then I'll take you out for some curry at Arle's place. How's that sound? I'll make sure it's the piping hot kind that you love." She claps her hands, and a white smoke cloud appears around her, swiftly replacing her sopping wet garbs with proper robes.
Energized by the promise of food, she beams. "Oh, hell yeah! That sounds like a date!"
"It is a date, but only if you keep your end of the bargain." Chortling as Draco frowns, Witch waves and swiftly skips out the door.
Rolling her eyes, Draco clutches the bucket and rags. She lets a sigh leave her, but she can't feel too disappointed. Her girlfriend is mischievous and at times vain, and Draco wouldn't have it any other way. They compliment each other too well to let a little mistake come between them. With hope for delicious curry and snickering Witch at her side at Arle's place, Draco buckles down to clean up her mess.