It was Draco Malfoy's birthday.
He was laying down on the lovely green and silver couch in the Slytherin common room. He tossed a Quaffle he had nicked up and down, up and down, up and down.
Draco decided this was pretty damn boring, for a birthday.
Tossing the Quaffle would probably give his arms more strength, so maybe he could dump those trolls Crabbe and Goyle (if he was strong, then he wouldn't need bodyguards anymore), but it was boring all the same.
Draco decided to sit up and slam the Quaffle on the ground. It fell with a bonk and just lied there, miserable, like he had been laying on the couch a few seconds ago. He sighed, bored with the day already. It was like any other...and soon the great lumps would come downstairs...
As predicted, Crabbe and Goyle thumped down the stairs from the boys' dorm.
They grunted.
Draco, sitting on the silver and green sofa, nodded on them. "Hullo, lugs."
Crabbe and Goyle were used to being called lugs. They merely grunted again in response.
"Well, take a seat then." Draco said, pointing to some chairs.
The boys obediently sat, and Draco smiled a bit to himself. So what if everyone had forgotten his birthday? He was a powerful little girl...er...man.
It pleased Draco to know that he was like his father in this way.
Lucius Malfoy, aka Lucious, could always make people do what he wanted them to do, even though he sometimes had to promise sexual favours along the way. And if sexual favours didn't work, a lovely Imperius Curse or some death threats might.
Draco had not had to promise Crabbe and Goyle sexual favours yet, or use a curse, or threaten their familes. Crabbe and Goyle were just too stupid to do anything. The most they had talked, period, was in their second year, when Crabbe and Goyle had randomly asked Draco if he was the heir of Slytherin.
Hearing them talk was scary.
Draco had decided the boys must have been under the influence of drugs at the time.
He yawned a little Malfoy yawn, opening his pale, pointed face into a little O that his father would have been proud of.
Suddenly, Crabbe and Goyle, who had been staring off into the distance, probably daydreaming about each other, snapped their fingers in perfect harmony.
Draco was in shock.
"What was with that?" he hollered. "Are you in a musical or something? Where you have to snap your fingers at the same time?"
The lugs shook their heads.
"What, then?" Draco sat on the edge of the sofa, curious.
Crabbe nudged Goyle. "Bo."
"What the fuck?" Draco demanded.
Goyle took a small box from his robes and placed it in Draco's outstretched hand. (Draco's hand was always outstretched, looking around for anything someone may have lost to keep for himself.)
Oh, bo might mean box. Draco thought to himself, as his fingers closed around the box. He shook it once, twice, and heard something twinkling around in it.
Draco knew the boys were too stupid to curse the box, so he decided to open it. It was a small box, that you could fit a condom in or something.
Upon opening, he found...
a ring.
"Happuh birth dahey." Crabbe mumbled. Goyle nodded for emphasis.
Draco smiled and put it on his finger, using a simple word for the first time he ever needed it at Hogwarts.
"Thanks."
!
Closing note: Hope you enjoyed! That was a one-shot I wrote last night. Not well-written, I must say, I was writing it over IM. And my friend Veronica had a lovely commentary for it, too. I wrote this upon seeing a picture of Draco, the one where he's blowing the crane to Harry in PoA, and I noted a ring upon his finger, wondering how it got to be there. Thus I just had to write a story about it. Reviews would be wonderful!