Guidelines or Requirements: Draco/Ginny, of course, and must include a misused piece of fruit or vegetable. Will most likely be humorous, but I'd like to see how someone could make such a prompt believably angsty.
Length: 300-900 words.
Rating: Any.
Deadline: Sunday, August 30th.
Ginny Weasley was staring at a tomato, and the crazy thing was that Draco Malfoy was staring at Ginny Weasley who was staring at a tomato. The crazier thing was that Ginny had painted a rather goofy face onto the god forsaken tomato. Draco attempted to make sense of the scene before him, but was stumped as to what dear Ginny was currently doing so he decided to ask in the most dignified, Malfoy-ish way he could muster.
"What, in god's name, is with the tomato?"
Ginny momentarily removed her eyes from the red sphere to serenely look up at her husband's face. "I'm asking the tomato if it's a fruit or a vegetable. It refuses to tell me its secrets though."
His wife was off her rocker. Draco was sure of it.
"You're asking the tomato." He attempted to keep as much scorn out of his voice as possible. "Darling, how many times have you seen Luna this week?"
Ginny didn't look away as she replied. "Five? I'm not too sure."
"Maybe you should see her three times a week as opposed to five."
That statement grabbed Ginny's undivided attention.
"Excuse me?" She pointedly looked at Draco, hands on her hips and ready to unleash hell if need be.
"I just think that Luna's, er, special qualities are rubbing off on you, in a not so good way." Draco knew he was in trouble the moment flames jumped to life in his wife's eyes.
"Luna happens to be a very good friend of mine. Furthermore, I highly doubt your best friend would appreciate such a comment about his wife."
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but realized that if Ginny at any point in the near future told Blaise Zabini said comment, he was a dead man. His damn Malfoy pride wouldn't allow her to have the last word, however, and he blundered on with his "assault."
"Ginny, darling, everyone knows that tomatoes are a vegetable. Now put away the tomato and come to bed."
He turned to walk to their bedroom in the rather lavish flat they shared when he felt something splat against his head and drip down onto his expensive button up shirt. Angry, he whipped around towards the offender who smugly smirked at him and slowly brushed past.
"The tomato told me to do it. You look good with pink hair, by the way."
Draco closed and opened his mouth like a fish out of water as his wife continued to smirk at him. He rushed to the bathroom and upon inspection found that the red juice of the tomato and the light yellow of his hair did indeed mix into a rather lovely shade of pink. He growled and stomped – in a dignified manner as Malfoys were always dignified regardless of what they did – towards his wife who merely shrugged.
"The tomato also told me it was a fruit."
She calmly walked into the bedroom and turned around to face her rather pink husband.
"Good night, darling."
With a smile, Ginny closed the bedroom door leaving a very flabbergasted, dripping Draco in the living room wondering what the hell just happened.