Title: Sweat and Ancestors
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Minor language.
Word Count: 279
Author's Note: Written for dramione_ldws
It was common knowledge in the Wizarding world that Malfoys never sweat. They are cool, composed, and always presentable.
It was more than an unusual occurrence that Draco's face was red and blotchy. It was almost a disgrace that sweat was pouring down his face. He patted his brow with his embroidered handkerchief and cursed out the sun. What happened to the generations of perfect genes that were passed down to each Malfoy? And whose bloody idea was it to have brunch in the sweltering heat?
Draco glared at Harry across the picnic table. He wanted to swipe off that smug grin on his face. Potter was enjoying his misery too much and he certainly was not making this any easier for him.
He turned to his right and saw that Hermione was trying to stifle a giggle. "Don't give me that look, Malfoy. You promised me that you'd come. Besides, it isn't that bad. You're still alive with all your body parts attached, aren't you not?"
Draco narrowed his eyes at his bushy-haired girlfriend. He smelled like a Weasley who hadn't showered in a week and it was all her fault. His ancestors were clearly punishing him. He could almost hear them cursing in their graves: first about his girlfriend and now his meal at the Weasleys. He might as well be disowned!
"Now stop acting like you've got a stick up your arse and relax. It would mean the world to Molly if you have a great time today."
He let out a sigh as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips before giving him a pleading smile.
Ancestors, be damned.
She was worth it.