Grindelwald a'la Mode

Written for the Character Of The Month event
Prompt: Gellert Grindelwald

A/N: This is just me, still loving Grindelwald, shameless as usual. And yes, this is exactly what you think it is.

A sliver of sunlight spilled across the floor, illuminating the figure sleeping on the couch. He'd been there for a while now, snoring softly, his head tilted back against the furniture.

One of his pets, a spiky little chupacabra, was crawling across his chest, pausing to lick at the melted ice cream on his shirt. A second chupacabra was perched upon the back of the couch, eyeing the container of ice cream, while a third chupacabra hopped into the container and started swimming in the sticky, sweet substance.

Outside in the hallway, Dragon had noticed the trail of melted ice cream leading up the stairs. There was also a fourth chupacabra rolling in the yellowish fluid, and the smell coming off of it was ghastly.

"Yuck, french vanilla," said Dragon, wrinkling her nose in disgust. And yet she was curious.

Why was there ice cream on the floor? And, more importantly, who would leave such a drippy mess on the carpet?

She followed the trail of droplets, stopping at the double doors leading into the master's study. The door was ajar, and so she pushed it open with her nose, peeking inside and seeing Grindelwald snoozing on the couch.

A generous portion of melted ice cream had spilled onto Grindelwald's lap, oozing down his leg where Antonio sat licking the stain on his thigh.

Dragon stood in the doorway, transfixed by the sight. Never in all her life did she imagine seeing her master in such a state. It was the stuff dreams were made of, and all at once the chupacabras scattered in every direction, fleeing from the room as Dragon ran at her master.

Her tongue made contact with his leg, licking the ice cream off his pants. Grindelwald was still fast asleep by the time she reached his chest, waking only when he felt her tongue on his cheek.

"Albus?" Grindelwald muttered sleepily, his eyes still closed. His head drooped and his chin touched his chest, one arm curling around the winged wolf. "Albus, yes. Stroke the soft kitty."

Grindelwald purred, leaning forward and burying his face in her soft fur.

Dragon could have said something, but for now she decided to settle beside him on the couch, lapping up the ice cream on his pants.