Written for Lunar Fire's challenge at The DG Forum.

Prompt: "Splotched if you must, (Draco or Ginny), but not lumpy!" 300-500 words.

Word Count: 500.


I yawn and stretch in what Ginevra calls my cat-stretch. I smile at the thought of her, but it quickly turns into a scowl. She's turned me into a sodding Hufflepuff!

Note to Self#346: Fix this. IMMEDIATELY. Malfoy men are…MANLY.

Sighing, I reach my right arm out to my side, expecting to find the warm body of my wife.

Instead, I find myself on the hardwood floor of the sitting room.

Note to Self#347: The floor is HARD. Ow.

I look around while rubbing my sore yet beautiful arse, attempting to recall why the heck I'm not in the bedroom. I am a MALFOY. Malfoys sleep on beds. Not on…the couch.

Note to Self#348: NEVER sleep on the couch again. It isn't very manly (see NtS#346) and only leads to falling on the floor (see NtS#347).

Okay, so I spent last night on the couch. But…why? I sit back down on the blasted thing as I think back to last night.

…Oh Merlin.

Note to Self#349: NEVER tell your pregnant wife that she looks like a giant beach ball. No matter how round she is. The consequences will be dire (See NtS#348).

I make my way to the bedroom to apologize, only to hear someone sobbing inside.

Now, I have been through a lot. I'm sure you know this already, as I'm positive you've read other stories about me. (And if you haven't, you really should. My dashing good looks, amusingly snarky dialogues, and scintillating wit are really rather fascinating.)

Anyway, you know that I have proven myself to be capable of dealing with many different and dangerous things. However I have no idea how to comfort a crying female. Call it a side-effect of being manly. (And I AM manly. See NtS#346.)

If it was anyone else crying in the bedroom, I would…well, I wouldn't run away, as I am brave and manly, but I would certainly avoid them like the plague.

Unfortunately, though, it's my wife bawling in there. My pregnant wife. My pregnant wife with a temper.

Darnit.

I hesitate, then timidly knock on the door. Wait, no. NOT timidly. I am NOT timid, darnit! I am a MANLY MALFOY.

Note to Self#350: Find more manly adjectives. Immediately.

My caring yet manly knock was met with a "Go AWAY, Draco!"

Humph.

I am tempted to do just that, before I realize that if I avoid her now, I will pay for it later. I may be brave, but I'm not THAT brave. I open the door and go right in.

She's standing, naked, in front of the mirror, crying her eyes out. My brilliant intuition tells me that this situation will require tact. Merlin help me.

"What's wrong?" I ask, tactfully.

"I'M LUMPY!" she wails. "And my face is all splotched from crying!"

I sigh. "Splotched if you must, Gin, but not lumpy."

I suddenly find myself outside the room, facing the closed the door, nursing a stinging cheek.

Note to Self#351: Open mouth. Insert foot.

Darnit.


Definitely not my best. But at least I made the deadline. ^^