How the Minister Stole Christmas
(or at least tried to cancel it)
Happy Holidays @otpcutie !! Written for your @drarrymicrofic Wheel of Drarry prompt 'Grinch'. I hope you enjoy! I had lots of fun writing this 💖 (646 words, T rated)
Old Minister Malfoy is brooding alone,
On a paperwork hill.
A bureaucracy throne.
But just why is the Minister feeling so flat?
So spiky and lonely and cross as a bat?
While the season is sparkling with laughter and cheer.
He has nobody (no one!) to wish “Glad New Year!”
Outside, all of London is twinkling with bliss.
Which only makes Draco more certain of THIS:
“Christmas SPIRIT is a scourge,
It’s a pain and a bore!
It plagues every wizard and witch by the score.
They should behave with decorum!
With grace and discretion!
Not indulge in this mistletoe snogging obsession!”
He clenches his jaw as he pictures a scene:
The Weasleys all merry and red and obscene.
Sitting around eating puddings and pies,
Drunk on cheap mead, he thinks, rolling his eyes.
With vile jumpers!
And singing!
And terrible jokes!
And Potter with GINNY!
“Disgusting”, he chokes.
“Canoodling by the fire, all cosy and SMUG,
While I get NO present!
No pudding! No hug!”
He paces in fury, his boots striking sparks.
He grouses, “I’ll end it. I’ll stamp out their larks.”
Then suddenly—POW!—like a hex to his brain,
A wicked thought hits him, fast as a train.
His eyes narrow slowly.
His grin curls and gleams.
“Oh yes,” he declares, “what a WONDERFUL scheme.
What an awful and terrible and LOVELY idea.
I’m a mastermind.
Genius!
A great puppeteer!”
He leaps to his desk with dramatic elan,
And pens a quick edict to kick off his plan:
“CHRISTMAS IS CANCELLED.” (All caps, naturally.)
“Due to very real threats of concerning degree.
Report without fail Christmas morning to work,
OR FORFEIT YOUR JOB!” he adds with a smirk.
He signs, duplicates, before sending away,
The owls racing off as if hunting their prey.
Then sits back, content (now the missives have flown)
That NO ONE will revel if HE is alone.
Draco cackles, actually cackles,
yes CACKLES with glee;
A whole day of boredom and bureaucracy.
No sparkles, no twinkles, no laughter or cheer
No mistletoe, mince pies, no bloody reindeer.
“Let THEM be the lonely ones! Let them despair!
And Potter so blasé, with no sodding care
That I, their dear Minister, so dashing! So tragic!
Is left friendless, bereft, with no Yuletide magic.”
On the 25th he dons his big cloak with the cowl.
In the mirror he perfects a sharp sneer and a scowl.
Through Floo-space he whooshes, rehearsing a speech,
But crossing the Atrium, he halts with a screech.
“There you are, Malfoy!
Merry Christmas, boss!”
Potter—his voice warm,
His voice bright and NOT CROSS.
Potter scratches his neck,
His hair is a sight,
And Draco’s lungs go all stuttery, fluttery-tight.
“I’m glad you’re here, Minister. I hoped you’d appear.
You vanish on holidays every damn year.”
Draco’s glower subsides like a house made of cheese.
His chest wrenches and whirls with a bloody great squeeze.
His brilliant and villainous plan falls apart,
For Potter's HAPPY to see him
And it wallops his heart…
Which thumps and it bumps like a runaway hex,
Expands, explodes, grows thrice in his chest.
“You missed me?” he gasps.
Potter nods. “Yes, of course.”
Now, what’s that Draco’s feeling?
Why yes, it’s REMORSE.
The world seems to wobble, to flicker, to totter.
A voice in his head says, Oh Merlin! Oh Potter!
“But Christmas! I cancelled it… I’ve been such an arse!
You and Weaslette… I thought—
Oh, what a farce!”
But Potter just laughs, pulls him close, soft and steady.
“You prat. You magnificent prat. I’ve been ready
To tell you I want you, for AGES AND AGES.
And you cancelled Christmas?
That’s… actually?… courageous.”
Draco blinks, quite bemused by the change in his lot,
But Potter keeps grinning, all eager and hot.
And Draco, still breathless, can only decree:
“Fine. Christmas is BACK.
But you’ll spend it with me!”
theartofmadeline
dededos
origamiaround
kaledo-art
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
ellievsbear
