AN1: Ok this is the one-shot dedicated to Blue-Stardust for being my 300th reviewer for my other story: The Deepest Desire of Her Heart.

Note to Blue-Stardust: Thank you so much for the 300th review! I'm very sorry this took so long. I had a really good idea that would end up being a story, but then I kinda lost it. So now here is your one-shot, I really hope you like it and that it was worth the wait.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is NOT MINE! How many times do I have to say that before it's going to sink in?! It's not mine and it never will be!! (Cries)

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"Honestly Draco, it's not that hard! I've been doing things the muggle way for years; it's not going to kill you to try this one thing." Hermione exclaimed in exasperation at her husband. "I cannot believe you are being so stubborn about this! It's absolutely ridiculous!"

Draco simply shook his head stubbornly. "I refuse! It's disgusting, degrading, and this is what we have house elves for." His wife widened her eyes in anger and disbelief.

"Draco Xavier that is one of the most disgusting and pigheaded things I have ever heard you say! House elves are not slaves, they are magical creatures that have been brainwashed into doing the work that selfish wizards like you do not want to do because they—like you—have been spoiled with house elves their whole life!" The last part of her sentence Hermione emphasized by poking Draco in the chest multiple times. She blew a wispy strand of hair out of her face that had escaped from her bun. She looked at him imploringly, almost as if waiting for him to cave in to her as he normally did. This time he didn't. Hermione sensed as much and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fine then! But until this job is done, I will not acknowledge your presence at all. Absolutely nothing; it will be as if I'm living in this house by myself!" Draco tried to protest, but she wouldn't hear it. "No, you heard me: by myself!" With that final word, Hermione Malfoy stormed off to the second floor library no doubt to drown out her sorrows about her stubborn husband in literature.

That argument was three hours ago, and so far, neither had given in. Draco still hadn't done what Hermione requested and therefore, Hermione hadn't left the library all day. Now it was dinnertime. Lured out by the smell of something delicious, Draco stopped his brooding and wandered out of his study. Upon entering the dining room, he saw Hermione sitting alone at the table and eating what looked like a small feast to Draco. There was turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, corn, gravy, salad, custard, cheesecake and even treacle tart. His mouth watered from simply looking at everything. The meal Draco took as a peace offering so he grabbed himself a plate and sat next to his wife. He reached for the spoon to dig in to the potatoes, but it avoided his grasp. Thinking nothing of it, he tried again to grab hold of the spoon, but again: right before it was in his hands, it moved to the opposite side of the bowl...as if it were charmed. Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his wife, but Hermione nonchalantly kept eating. No smile gave away anything.

He made an attempt to reach the turkey, but that too avoided his maneuvers. After trying to get some of every dish on the table, he finally realized that he wouldn't be getting any of what Hermione was eating. With a sigh of resentment, Draco stormed into the kitchen to order the house elves to make him something. He was lucky to have two elves, what with Hermione being a staunch supporter of elf rights.

"Twinkie, Dottie, make me some dinner...please." The 'please' he added reluctantly; Draco was so used to barking orders at house elves that it took some effort to try to be more polite to them.

"We is sorry Master Malfoy, but Malfoy said that we is getting the rest of the today and tomorrow off after we is making dinner." The house elf called Dottie spoke. Draco gaped; he couldn't believe how far his wife was taking this. He held in his anger and spoke as calmly as possible. "Ok then goodbye. I'll see you two the day after tomorrow." He choked out. With a snap of their fingers, the two house elves apparated to their little room upstairs that Hermione cleaned out (manually of course) for the elves.

Left with no other choice, Draco walked slowly into the kitchen. Hermione, who was watching her husband from behind, laughed quietly to herself. In her mind she compared him Louis XVI walking to the guillotine to face his fate. That was the vibe she got from her husband, he was truly miserable. Whether it was because he had to make his own dinner or because she was ignoring him she could tell he was discontent. For a nanosecond, Hermione felt remorse and almost, almost undid the spells on the bowls to make peace with him. But...at the last second, she changed her mind. I am doing this for his benefit, he needs to let go of his unwillingness to do anything without his magic. At least, that was the thought Hermione used to soothe herself before heading up to the library again.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Draco was struggling to make his dinner. He had tried—and failed—to actually cook something and he was about to try again when he slapped himself on the face and groaned audibly. I can just conjure myself something! I can't believe how thick I've been. I think for a second I was channeling Potter or Weasley! He proceeded to conjure himself a little bit of everything that Hermione had had at the table.

Dinnertime quickly came and went, and sooner than Draco could believe, it was time for him to head up to his room and sleep. Even though he and Hermione were extremely well off, he enjoyed his job and was—contrary to popular assumptions—very much a morning person. Stifling a yawn, he headed up to bed.

He got to their master suite and saw that she seemed to already be asleep. Smiling to himself, Draco got ready for bed before climbing in next to his wife. He figured that her actually being in their bed was the equivalent to a white flag. So he was very surprised when he tried to cuddle up next to Hermione but instead felt the cold hardness of a brick wall. Cursing under his breath he got up and went around to the other side of the bed and again tried to hug Hermione. But to no avail. She had charmed an invisible barrier around herself. Muttering vague strings of profanities he loudly stomped downstairs to the couch. Draco would rather have to sleep on the couch than to be so close to the love of his life and yet not be able to embrace her. Why are women so stubborn? Or is it just my luck to have a dreadfully smart, beautiful, clever, beautiful, stubborn and beautiful wife? It probably is. Well I wouldn't have her any other way I suppose.

Many futile hours later, Draco was still awake; he just couldn't sleep, the couch was too uncomfortable and he had left his wand in the bathroom, so he couldn't conjure anything to ease the pain in his back. He was too afraid to go back upstairs and get his wand, for he didn't want to the wrath of Hermione for disturbing her sleep. He made that mistake once and despite her petite 5'4'' frame, Hermione could strike fear into the heart of any man. Just ask any of the Gryffindor boys in her year and Draco, they would tell you.

Loathing the fact that he had no other choice, Draco threw an internal hissy fit before finally giving in to his wife's ridiculous demand. She could ignore him for as long as it took to get her point across. When it came to a battle of stubborn-ness, Hermione took the cake, and that was one of the reasons Draco fell in love with her in the first place.

At 6:30am, Draco collapsed against the wall in agony. He finished it, he did his job. A soft pattering of footsteps made him glance wearily behind him. There he saw Hermione with a wide smile on her face, her chocolate colored eyes sparkling with mirth. With a 1000-watt smile, his wife addressed him for the first time since their argument.

"You didn't have to do it alone. I was planning on helping you. All I wanted you to do was agree that you would help me." Draco winced and restrained from launching one of the finished products of his labor at Hermione. She seemed to sense his anger so she sidled up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I love you, Draco. I'm sorry we fought."

He smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head. "I know dear, I love you; and I too am sorry we fought. Just please don't make me wash the dishes by myself again."

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AN2: Please review!! No flames but constructive and nicely worded criticism is welcome.

Oh and I'm aware that according to Hermione in DH, you can't just conjure food out of nowhere because it's against some magical law...but too bad! Draco can, and he did! Ohh what now sucka, what now!? Haha sorry, I'm kinda crazy right now. I think it's because my lack of sleep.