Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. No money is made from this.
A/N: Loved the reviews! Thank you to xhex1 (if Kermit304 gets the 100th review, there might be another Malfoy thrown into the mix), phoenixqueen15 (you've been one of the most faithful reviewers - thanks for that!), BigTimeGleekBTR (here ya go, doll), AnonymouslyBeautiful (glad you like it! :)), Peytonkmc (I love writing H/D dialogue regardless of the fic - there's so much to work with), viola1701e (Cissy was happy with the attention - no calories), SerpentofDarkness (Good to have you back. I think they're all living through the kids a bit. I find plenty of hilarious and embarrassing events in real life. As the saying goes, my family puts the 'fun' in dysfunctional), wintersong1954 (Thank you!), annamanna (muchas gracias)and EStrunk (so glad you're enjoying. The tomato soup was one of my favorite parts, along with Lucy & the Fiend).
As always, a big 'thank you' to everyone who follow/favorited, too. Like I said before: 100th reviewer gets to make a story suggestion.
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Twin growls erupted from either side of the Malfoy marital bed, and a dainty hand shot out to capture the infernal device that had the gall to disturb said bed's occupants while it was still dark outside.
"Mhullo? Oh! Hi, Mum. What time is it? Is everything OK?"
Draco grinned sleepily to himself. His in-laws were morning people, whilst his beloved bride most definitely was not. He reached out and gently ran his fingertips up and down her spine over her thin nightgown. She shivered lightly in response.
"Hm? Um, when?" He could vaguely make out her mother's tinny voice coming through the cell phone.
Granger-Malfoy was focusing on this conversation entirely too well. And she could be so cute when she was flustered. He slowly moved beneath the covers to her side of the bed while her attention was elsewhere then struck with an ex-Seeker's quickness. He had rearranged her gown before she knew what hit her.
"OH! Oh-okay. No, no, everything's fine. Erm, Draco's feet are cold, a-and he caught me on the shin with one." She swatted at her husband, and he gripped her tighter as he smirked against her skin.
"I, um, I'll send them an owl today. Next Sunday. Right. Right, Mum. OK - gotta go. I-think-I-hear-Scorpius. Loveyoubye!" She hung up and peeked under the sheet at her juvenile, attention-seeking mate. "Was that really necessary?"
"I certainly thought so. Give me five minutes and I bet you'll concur," he purred. She chuckled and dropped the sheet as he went about...convincing her. He had maybe three more minutes to make his argument, and-
"MUMMY!" Scorpius raced into the room and bounced on the bed, inadvertently landing on his father, then rolling off the lump to land on a flat spot on the mattress. "Where's Daddy?"
"He's, uh, hiding. We were playing hide and seek." She raised the sheet, "Found you."
Draco groaned.
"What's wrong with Daddy?"
"Nothing, darling. He's just very competitive, and he hates to be found too early." She snickered as she heard a comment from beneath the covers that sounded like he wasn't the only one who hated it. Draco quickly popped up from the blankets and grabbed his son. "What are you doing up already?"
"I was hungry. Since we aren't going to Hogsmeade today, I figured Mummy wouldn't make me take another bath if I came in now."
Malfoy released the boy and kissed his wife on the cheek as he got out of bed. "Slytherin."
"Oh, shut it, Malfoy." The words were tempered by the grin on her face. He still couldn't get over how radiant the woman could look first thing in the morning.
"What did your mother want, anyway?" He called on his way into the loo.
She raised her voice so that he could hear her: "She and Dad wanted to invite your parents over for dinner."
She heard a flush, then the tap running. Draco cocked his head to the side as he returned. "Do we get to go, too?"
"Of course we do. Dad said he has something to show your father, now that he knows Lucius has questions about the moon landing. We're invited for next Sunday at 4:00."
"I don't see why we couldn't make it. Do you want me to send a note?"
"No need, love. I'll do it." He came back to her side to hug her tightly.
"Do you have any idea how happy it makes me that you get along with my folks?"
She snuggled into him. "Probably as happy as it makes me to see you treat Mum and Dad like your own. I was so proud of you on Halloween, telling them you'd have protected them."
This comment treated her to one of his rare blushes. "Meant it, too. Your parents have been good to us." He cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. "Anyway, didn't someone say they were hungry?"
"ME ME ME!"
"Ah, yes. You, you you. Come here you," he swung Scorpius up onto his shoulders, and waited for Hermione to get her lovely arse out of bed. He happily handed her a bathrobe as her feet hit the floor, and the Malfoy family trooped downstairs to breakfast.
The morning meal started off well, until Scorpius' inquisitive nature got the better of him, and he began trying to determine which was stickier: strawberry syrup or maple. The walls looked like an abstract painting (or an abattoir, depending on which syrup was present), Scorp was covered, Draco had syrup in his hair, and his wife had her face in her hands.
Which of course meant it was the perfect time for Lucius and Narcissa to decide to pop over for their first unscheduled visit.
Hermione looked up at her in-laws in abject humiliation, then confusion as she realized that neither of the senior Malfoys had batted an eye at the spectacle before them. Narcissa went to sit next to her grandson, and Lucius took a seat near his daughter-in-law. He lifted a manicured hand and waved vaguely at the wall. "Let me guess, syrup viscosity tests?"
The Fiend nodded in silent confirmation.
"Thought so. Be glad you don't have any blackberry syrup on hand. It's hell to get out of the moulding." Lucius smirked at her then turned to his grandson. "So, Scorpius, what is your conclusion?"
The tiny blond thought deeply, and offered, "They're both really sticky. Strawberry is prettier on the wall, and good on waffles. Maple tastes better on pancakes."
"Well done. Your father decided the same when he was your age."
"Really?"
"Oh, of course. With the addendum that maple stuck better to house elves."
Draco's jaw dropped. "How did you know about that? I made sure you weren't there for breakfast that day!"
"Have you forgotten that house elves can speak, son? They used to fink on you regularly." Lucius settled in and poured himself a cup of tea.
"Sadly, Scorp already has tested syrup on house elves. Don't get any ideas, young man."
"Aw, Mum."
Narcissa loosed the tiniest giggle and shot a cleaning spell at the wall. "I do hope we aren't intruding, dear."
Hermione took in her surroundings, looked down at her attire and sighed. "I suppose this was going to happen sooner or later. It's fine, I just feel a little inadequate, I guess."
"No need, Fiend. I assure you, you look no worse in your bedtime attire than I looked in make-up and hot pink robes. In fact, you may have a slight edge." His gray eyes twinkled as Granger-Malfoy relaxed, and sent him a tiny smirk.
"Slight?"
"Very slight. As I said, a Malfoy can wear anything well."
Draco snorted in response to his father's hubris and speared another waffle. Watching him do this gave Lucius an idea. He reached over and took two waffles for himself. Narcissa raised a brow then subtly motioned to Hermione to move back.
The two younger Malfoy men continued eating as Lucius slathered a goodly amount of maple syrup on each waffle.
"Boys?"
Draco and Scorpius looked up, and the Malfoy patriarch sent a waffle flying into each of their faces. "I wanted to determine if maple syrup was equally effective regardless of generation."
A melee ensued when Draco and his son pounced on Lucius, and a muffled yelp of "scientific curiosity!" could be heard from the bottom of the pile.
Hermione sighed and turned to Narcissa. "My parents asked me to find out if you and Lucy are available for dinner at 4:00 next Sunday."
Cissa delicately wiped a trace of syrup from her cheek. "We would be pleased to attend. One suggestion, though."
"Yes?"
"Hide the condiments."