Note: A bit of vocabulary beforehand:

Cazzo (Italian): shit/fuck

Stronzino (italian): you little jerk

Vaffanculo (Italian): go fuck yourself

Porca miseria (Italian): bloody hell!

(Because it's also a useful, educational story! You're welcome!)


Wednesday, December 22nd, 2004 – Diagon Alley

The tiny bell hanging on the door jingled as Draco entered the cramped shop and made his way between the shelves of miscellaneous bric-a-brac. A second later, the bell rang again as the door of the shop was thrown open once more. For a moment, the daylight streaming through the glass door was obscured by a shapeless figure that tried to push itself through the doorway and was seemingly made of various shopping bags, packages and bundles. A muffled flow of profanities, some of which sounded charmingly foreign, was coming from the middle of the moving pile of bags.

"… Cazzo! You spoiled, lazy cumtart… What am I? A fucking house-elf? Stronzino! A little Christmas shopping he said… To buy Granger a gift he said… Vaffanculo!"

With considerable efforts, Blaise finally made it into the shop and dropped the tottering piles of packages onto the floor.

"Porca miseria!" he panted, wiping his forehead and glowering at Draco, who was standing before a shelf and was examining the displayed articles with a thoughtful look, twirling idly his wand between his fingers.

Blaise reached inside his cloak and took out an engraved silver flask. The plump, elderly witch with small round glasses and short white curly hair that made her head look like a giant dandelion tsked disapprovingly as she watched Blaise take a swig of the flask from her spot behind the counter. Slipping it back into the inside pocket of his cloak, Blaise walked over to Draco.

"Are you planning to buy the whole goddamn street?" he grunted.

Draco scowled.

"It's been three days, Blaise," he hissed through gritted teeth, frowning deeply. "I've tried everything; supplications, flattery, bribery… She is not answering to anything! I could as well send my owls to the Bermuda Triangle! I need to find her the perfect gift…"

"I believe Witch Weekly released the list of the most eligible bachelors last week… Think about it; soon, you'll be forced back on that list anyway, and Granger could take one off it to replace you!"

Draco ignored him.

"D'you think she would like that?" he asked, picking up a shiny, jewel-encrusted contraption.

"Sure… What is it?"

"Do you need help, my dears?"

They turned to the small witch who approached them with a motherly smile. The elderly shop owner looked like a granny watching her favorite grandchildren.

"Yes!" exclaimed Blaise, before Draco could say anything. "What would you advise a man who sabotaged his marriage and wants to be back into his wife's good graces? Or simply into his wife…"

"Blaise!" snapped Draco.

"What?" shrugged the Italian. "Hateful sex is as healthy as any other…"

"I see," nodded the old witch knowingly, looking Draco up and down before turning back to Blaise. "How bad is it exactly?"

"As bad as it gets…" sighed Blaise.

The witch tilted her head.

"Blaise," growled Draco under his breath.

"He blasted it to pieces," continued Blaise gravely.

"Shut up!" hissed Draco threateningly.

Blaise and the old witch waved him off disdainfully.

"He set it on fire and danced on the fuming ruins, before scattering the ashes to be trampled by a herd of centaurs!"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and took deep calming breaths.

"Well," said the granny in a sing-song voice, "You have to make the young lady feel that her wants and desires are your top priority."

She brushed past the two Slytherins, heading to the back of the shop. Her dandelion-like head disappeared behind a shelf. Blaise gave Draco a sly look as he glared daggers at him.

"How old is the lady?" called the witch's voice from somewhere behind the far shelves.

"Twenty-five?" answered Draco, slightly apprehensive.

The witch's round head popped from around a shelf, her blue eyes peering at him skeptically from behind her golden spectacles.

"Is it a question or an assertion, young man?" she asked with a severe look.

"An assertion?" mumbled Draco awkwardly.

The old witch quirked an eyebrow. Draco cleared his throat.

"An assertion," he repeated more firmly.

The granny nodded sharply and disappeared again.

"I assume the marital bed will be a forbidden territory for quite some time…" sounded her voice in the distance.

"What - " started Draco, taken aback.

The witch's head bobbed into view once more, and she gave him a sharp look.

"The horizontal mambo," she clarified.

Draco drew a sharp breath, choked and gawked at the spot where the witch's head was a second earlier. Next to him, Blaise snorted.

"Making the beast with two backs," continued imperturbably the granny somewhere in the back shop. "Cleaning the pipes. Climbing Mount Pork-o-lay-la. Makin' whoopee. Getting Nookie. Bow-chika-bow-wow! Engaging in coitus that is… How do young people call it these days?"

Patches of deep pink creeping up his neck, his eyes bulging out of their sockets and his mouth hanging open, Draco stood completely stunned. On his right, Blaise had collapsed against a shelf and was desperately clinging onto it not to slide onto the floor as he shook with silent laughter, his breath wheezing and tears rolling down his cheeks.

"What I am saying is that all of this is off the table at the moment, right?" concluded the witch.

"N-No…" protested Draco feebly.

"Yes!" shouted Blaise gleefully, still suffocating with laughter.

The granny reappeared with a satisfied smirk, carrying an oblong item, which looked like a smooth, rounded unicorn horn that sparkled in the light of the candles. Draco, still very red, eyed it warily, while Blaise wiped his eyes and straightened to look at it with sharp interest.

"Latest model," announced the witch. "It's extremely efficient, and the design is very enticing. All the witches want one at the moment! I had to order a whole new box last week because I had run out of stock…"

She suddenly paused and looked at Draco closely. A flash of recognition passed over her face, and her eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she chuckled. "I believe your mother bought one two weeks ago… Lady Malfoy, right?"

"Err- yes," answered Draco, bewildered. "But… hmm… what is it?"

The small granny straightened, a smile full of fondness gracing her features.

"A young lady has needs, young man," she said pointedly, "And if she doesn't want you to satisfy those needs, then there is the Holly Jolly Witch's Ride 2000…"

"Oh fuck…" breathed Draco, clutching his heart.

Blaise emitted a yelp of delight.

"Very easy to manipulate… There are several sizes…"

"Oh Merlin's shitpants…"

"I think that one is good…" commented Blaise with a smile stretching ear to ear. "Granger is rather petite. Although she might want something bigger for a change…"

He and the elderly witch turned to Draco with appraising looks.

"I'll show you the bigger model," settled the witch.

"I need to get out of here…" moaned Draco, whirling around in panic as he tried to locate the exit in the maze of shelves.

"Do you want me to explain how it works?"

"Yes, please!" gasped Blaise in awe.

"NO!" roared Draco, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and steering him to the exit.

With a flick of his wand, he opened the door of the shop and sent all the packages Blaise had been carrying flying outside onto the sidewalk, before storming out himself and dragging a hysterical Blaise behind him. He slumped against the wall, breathing heavily and casting around wild looks. Blaise sat down onto the sidewalk, clutching his ribs as he gasped and hiccupped from a new laughing fit. The witches and wizards passing by eyed the two Slytherins with curiosity.

"My brain…" moaned Draco. "My brain is scarred!"

"I think I'm gonna get one for Cherry!" spluttered Blaise. "I had yet to find her a Christmas gift!"

"You are planning to see her again?" asked Draco, surprised.

"I actually invited her to spend Christmas with all of us," shrugged Blaise.

Draco, who had started picking up their purchases from the sidewalk, froze, staring at him.

"You invited her to the Manor for Christmas?" he croaked out in indignant disbelief.

"What's the problem?" replied Blaise with a shit-eating grin. "She and your mother could have a nice chitchat and exchange their opinions on the Holly Jolly Witch's Ride 2000! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to buy it…" he snickered, running back into the shop before Draco could pounce on him.