Draco's Birthday

Happy 32nd birthday, Draco Malfoy. I love you.

He hated parties. Birthday parties—they were the absolute worst, no matter if they were thrown for him or someone else. The only slightly redeemable thing about the entire affair was the onslaught of gifts he'd always receive as a child, but now that he was turning 32, he doubted anyone would think to get him anything besides Galleons and gift cards—items he already possessed far too many in abundance of. He still had yet to use up the remainder of his gift card to Flourish and Blotts for Christmas, a crime that his wife would no doubt be repulsed to hear, should he ever make the knowledge privy to her.

Nevertheless, Hermione had been adamant about throwing a party this year, and after much nagging and bickering on the subject, Draco had finally consented. He stood before the mirror in the master bedroom he shared with Hermione in their Manor, fixing his silk tie and smoothing down his blue button-down. He'd put on a fresh pair of black trousers and a new pair of black loafers to match, and once he'd smoothed down his pale blonde mane of hair, cleared his throat and began to descend the staircase leading to the first floor of their estate. As soon as he'd reached the bottom of the staircase, a small child with blonde hair and chocolate-colored eyes rushed towards him, throwing his tiny arms around the pale Wizard's legs. Laughing slightly, Draco bent down and picked the child up, holding him close and turning his grey eyes to look at him.

"Daddy, can we cut the cake now?" came the excited drawl of Scorpius, and Draco couldn't help but snicker at the delight that shone so clearly on the five year old's pale features.

"What did your mum say?" Draco inquired, arching a brow as he walked with his son tucked closely to him towards the kitchen. Scorpius' lips tugged into a slight pout, and his fair brows furrowed together as he struggled to give Draco a displeased frown.

"She said not until everyone gets here," Scorpius said with a sigh, and Draco gave another laugh, ruffling the young child's hair before setting him down on the kitchen floor to allow him to run around and play with the new kitten Hermione had gotten him a few weeks ago.

"Why can't you just let him have a piece of cake? He'll probably enjoy the bloody thing more than I will."

Hermione was standing at the counter, using her wand to magically smooth the icing she'd applied onto the cake and paused, her wand hovering over the portion of the cake that had his name written out in swirled decorative icing to give him a haughty glare.

"I don't want to spoil his appetite!" She protested curtly with a sniff, shaking her head and causing the curls that framed her face to bounce slightly. She was dressed rather conservatively, as usual, with a white blouse and a dark skirt to match. Draco watched her fix the cake with a slight pout on his face, rolling his eyes when she remarked that she was finished. She turned to face him, lips parted and eyes set on his, and Draco could tell she was preparing to give him a droll speech of sorts.

"Draco, why can't you at least try to have fun today?" Hermione asked in exasperation, staring at him helplessly. Draco gave a long, dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes once more for effect before stepping forward and kissing her once on the forehead.

"You're the one who wants this—not me," He grumbled before turning away, though the reply was half-hearted, and he sensed that his wife knew that, for she gave him a slight smirk of sorts as he turned his attention towards the front hall at the sound of a loud bell.

"Oh, people are here!" Hermione breathed, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. She clapped her hands, kneeling down and getting Scorpius' attention.

"Draco," She began, distracted. "Would you mind getting the door?"

Draco stomped off towards the front door, sulking like an adolescent and struggling to wipe the scowl off his face. Once he'd reached the entrance hall, he grabbed the door knob and twisted it, throwing it open to reveal his parents standing on the front door.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Narcissa breathed, stepping forward and swiping her lips across her son's cheek. Draco hugged his mother in return, ushering her inside and exchanging a curt nod with Lucius, who took his time stepping inside and removing his traveling robes.

"Well," Lucius began, his lips pursed slightly. He clutched the head of his cane with two hands, curious eyes inspecting the front of Draco's Manor. "I still think you should have a House Elf, but I suppose you waiting on us will do."

"You know the Wizarding World doesn't work like that anymore, father," Draco drawled, leading them into the sitting room. "Besides, I hardly think Granger of all people would allow us to own a bloody House Elf."

"Yes, well…" Lucius trailed off, smoothing his trousers and taking a seat on the couch. Narcissa sat next to him, an envelope in her hands. She handed it to Draco with a smile, who moved to set the unopened card down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Draco," Narcissa began before Lucius had the chance to continue with his sentence. He could hear clanging in the kitchen, and suspected Hermione was preparing drinks, and turned his attention to his mother. "How's Scorpius been getting along?"

"Oh, he's been well," Draco began, and as if on cue, he heard the light patter of feet as his son ran into the room, colliding with Narcissa and giving his grandmother a hug. He then scrambled over to sit in Lucius' lap, who was surprisingly affectionate with his grandson. Despite the strained relationship Draco still held with his father, he could be comforted to know it had no effect on how the elder Malfoy treated Scorpius. The young child had settled himself between his grandparents, smiling giddily at them and leaning against Narcissa when the door rang again.

"Draco!" Hermione called out from the kitchen, and with a drawn-out sigh Draco rose again, calling out, "Yes, yes, I've got it," before making his way to the front door again. He opened the door this time to reveal two rodents and an orphan standing on his doorstep, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Potter, Weasley…Weaslette," He clipped out, his posture stiffening immediately. They all met his glares with unsatisfied ones of their own, shoving past him. Ron stuffed a sloppily-wrapped brown package in his hand, and Draco snickered, his lips spreading into a smirk.

"Don't worry, Weasley, I'll give the wrapping paper back once I've opened the gift—Merlin knows it must've cost you your entire salary," Draco sneered, and Ron merely scowled in response.

"Don't test me, Malfoy," Ron spat, and Draco merely shrugged in response, tucking the package under his arm and turning to face Harry and Ginny expectantly.

"I don't buy gifts for pets," Harry said simply before walking away, pulling Ginny along with him. Draco glared at their backs as they passed through the sitting room, which was now devoid of company, and Draco could only presume that Hermione had led the crowd around to the back yard, where she had everything set up, and just as he was turning to walk around and join them, he heard another knock on the door, and cursed his wife inwardly for inviting so many bloody people.

Draco threw open the door with less care this time, his scowl dissipating almost instantly when he spotted Blaise Zabini standing alone on his porch. Finally, someone who didn't annoy the piss out of him!

"Zabini—thank Salazar you got here, otherwise I'd be stuck with my parents and Granger's soul-sucking demons and their pet orphan all evening," Draco exclaimed in relief, moving to the side to allow his friend to step inside. Blaise merely smirked and chuckled in response, handing Draco a neatly-wrapped green and silver package and eyeing the empty house with some interest.

"I take it everyone has moved the party elsewhere?" He commented, and Draco nodded, pointing towards the backyard. The two former Slytherins walked together, Draco holding his gifts and Blaise with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Draco led them outside, spotting the tables and balloons that Hermione had set up earlier. Lovely, it looked just like—

"This looks like a child's party—are you sure this isn't for Scorpius?" Blaise teased, and Draco rolled his eyes, scoffing.

"You know Granger—it's impossible to talk her out of something," Draco explained before temporarily parting ways with his friends to set the gifts on an empty table, and he spotted the card his mother had handed him earlier there, as well as a few other gifts. Hermione was over talking animatedly with Ginny about something, and Draco slumped in a nearby chair, running a hand through his hair and eyeing the spectacle before him.

Scorpius was running around in circles in the backyard, trying to catch the tail of his robes, Hermione and the Weaslette had erupted into a giggling fit over tampons or shopping or whatever the fuck it was that girls talked about. Narcissa was sitting stiffly in her chair, watching her grandson with a sort of fondness—as though he were the most intelligent being in the world for being fascinated with the coat tails of his robe—and Lucius was staring at the head of his cane as though it were the only interesting thing in the entire backyard. The Weasel was skulking and scratching his head off in a corner like the proper little cave man he was, and Potter was standing nearby, a whopping five feet shorter than everyone else and no doubt wondering when the world around him got so large and inwardly crying about the fact that his mum and dad were dead. And then there was Blaise—sitting around and struggling to look superior to everyone else.

Yes, they were all crazy.

"Draco!" Hermione called, and the sound of her voice snapped him out of his thinking. He blinked twice, rising to his feet and crossing over to stand next to her. A hand snaked around her waist almost subconsciously, tucking her close and feeling her body mold to his.

"Yes?"

"Don't you think it's time to open your gifts, love?" Hermione suggested, reaching a hand to brush a fallen strand of hair out of his eyes. He shrugged slightly, not particularly in the mood, and Hermione flashed him a pleased grin, kissing him swiftly on the lips and pulling out her wand, flicking it and causing the table full of gifts to magically shift to the center of the party, holding out a seat for her husband to take. Once seated, everyone in the party began to grow quiet, and Hermione instructed all of them to pay attention, grabbing Scorpius and sitting him in her lap as she moved to take the seat next to Draco's.

Draco stared at the gifts in front of him, deciding to reach for his mother's card first. Everyone was seated at the table around him, and he eyed them all uncertainly before sticking his finger under the crease of the envelope, dragging his nail along to open it. Lifting the flap of the envelope open, he pulled the card out—an off-white card made out of soft paper with elegant black writing on the front that read "Happy Birthday". He opened it, and read the note his mother had scribed inside.

Draco,

My dear boy, it was thirty two years ago today that you were brought into this world, and thirty two years ago today my world was made brighter by your existence. I know that our family is not what it once was, and that the three of us have had our difficulties over the years, but you are still first and foremost my son, and I love you.

Therefore, attached I have placed tickets for you and your wife to spend a week in Paris. Don't worry, your father and I will watch over Scorpius while the two of you are on vacation, and I expect detailed descriptions of the city when you return.

I love you, Draco, no matter what happens.

Your Loving Mother,

Narcissa

Draco smiled to himself, pulling out the two tickets and showing the card to Hermione, whose eyes widened as she quickly read the note attached.

"Thank you, mother," Draco said quietly, smiling fondly at Narcissa, who returned his grin with one of her own.

"I contributed," Lucius said suddenly, nodding once.

"Yes, yes, of course—thank you; thank both of you!" Hermione breathed, beaming at her in-laws and snatching the tickets from Draco's hand, tucking them safely inside the card. Satisfied that the presents didn't seem to be too bad thus far, Draco reached for another present—the poorly packaged one that Weasley had brought him. Grabbing the package with his hands, he ripped the paper, his face contorting into confusion and repulsion as his hands grasped something soft and cotton. He lifted up the thin straps to reveal a long, flowing dress with floral print, one brow arching slightly.

"I understand you're poor, Weasley," Draco began, his voice thick with bemusement. "But don't you think you could've managed to get something other than a piece of your wardrobe?"

"Very funny, Malfoy," Ron piped up, and Draco could tell that the day walker was struggling not to laugh. "That's for you—figured I'd find you some apparel far more fitting, since we both know that 'Mione's the one here who wears the pants in your family."

Hermione's face reddened immediately, and Draco couldn't tell if she was more embarrassed or angered by Weasley's little speech. Draco's eyes had narrowed into vicious daggers, and he managed to throw the git a malicious scowl, his lips twitching slightly.

"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, her mouth hanging open as her mind evidently struggled to form words. "Out of all the—I thought I told you not to pull anything ridiculous!"

Harry and Ron were both laughing by now, and Ginny swatted Harry on the arm, though Draco could tell that she was snickering, too. Fuck all of them—damn them to Hell.

"Come on, Hermione, you know it's true," Harry said with a laugh, and Ron's laugh grew.

"And brilliant, too!"

"He's a Malfoy—of course he wears the pants," Lucius snapped, clearly disgusted with Hermione's friends.

"I'm wearing them right now!" Draco hissed, feeling imbecilic a moment later for stating something so obvious and beside the point.

"Mummy, why did uncle Ron get daddy a dress?" Scorpius asked, tugging on his mother's blouse as she clutched him close. Hermione ignored her son, her nostrils flaring as she glared at her two best friends, who were still roaring with laughter.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Hermione hissed, and with a death glare both Ron and Harry stopped laughing nearly instantly, and the table died down from the bickering they'd all engaged in only moments prior. Several moments of silence passed by, with Draco clutching the fabric in his trembling hands before he balled it up and threw the flimsy article of clothing at Weasley, smirking triumphantly when it whacked him in the face.

He felt a light tugging on his shirt, and turned to face Scorpius, who was clearly intent on telling him something.

"Yes?" Draco asked, leaning closer to his son.

"It's okay, daddy, you'd be pretty in a dress," Scorpius whispered, patting his father's shoulder before turning away and leaning against Hermione, who was struggling not to laugh.

"Oh, shut up," Draco snapped at Hermione, scowling and shoving the ripped pieces of wrapping paper aside, snatching up Blaise's gift next and tearing the paper open. Relieved that it wasn't another article of feminine clothing or something as equally embarrassing, Draco lifted a thick tome bound in black leather with silver lettering.

"An Advanced Potions book," Draco mused, nodding in appreciation. As the Head of the Potioneering Department at the Ministry of Magic, his aptitude and fascination with the subject was still very much a dominate part of his personality, and he silently thanked Merlin for having a best mate who could understand and appreciate that.

"Thanks, Blaise," Draco said simply with a smile, and he heard Hermione let out a soft sigh when she realized that her husband wasn't displeased with the latest gift. Blaise gave a short nod in response, continuing to remain silent from his corner of the table. There was a slightly crinkled piece of parchment lying on the table, and Draco reached for it, smoothing it out and turning it over. There was a primitive drawing of a family of three on the other side, made sloppily with paint and crayons. Draco could tell that this was Scorpius' gift for him, and the smile on his face grew wider as he admired his son's handiwork. He could see where Scorpius had drawn himself, short and standing between two larger figures. On the right was Hermione, whom he'd drawn a very large, yet surprisingly accurate portrayal of her bushy hair, and on the left Draco saw what he supposed was supposed to be his work outfit, and his pale hair and the features of his face. There was just one problem with Scorpius' drawing of his father in the family portrait—he hadn't colored in the skin like he had with Hermione and himself.

"What's this, Scorpius? Didn't you finish?" Draco asked softly, scooting closer to his son. Scorpius shook his head fervently, jabbing a small finger at Draco's side of the painting and laughing slightly.

"No, daddy, that's you! The paper's the same color as your skin, so I didn't have to color anything in like I did with me and mummy," He explained, and Draco heard Hermione stifle a snort at this comment. His silver eyes lifted to lock on Granger's, and he gave her a slight scowl of discontent before turning back to his son and forcing a son. He leaned forward, kissing his son on the top of his head and setting the paper back on the table.

"I love it, thank you," He responded, ruffling his son's hair before turning to note that the table was now empty. Frowning slightly, he turned to face Hermione, who leaned over and pressed her lips against his ear.

"You get your present from me tonight…after everyone leaves," She murmured, and a shiver ran down the length of Draco's spine. He nodded once, pulling away from them as Hermione faced the crowd with a grin.

"Scorpius, baby, go play while I cut the cake," Hermione breathed, setting the small child down on the ground and patting his bum once. Scorpius laughed in response, running into the yard and focusing on chasing the coat tail of his robes once more. Draco stood up, followed by the rest of the party, and he followed his wife to the cake, watching as she began to cut it.

"I'm sorry for what Ronald did," She murmured, shaking her head slightly. He leaned over, kissing her on the cheek once and shrugging slightly.

"It's fine, love," He lied, watching as she cut the cake with precision. Licking his lips, he picked up a piece and headed towards one of the tables, plopping himself down and watching as the other guests scattered to pick up pieces of the cake his wife had made. Draco frowned slightly, noticing that he didn't have a fork, and made work of searching for an eating utensil. He had just located a fork and had reached for it when Scorpius came bounding over. Before he had time to react, he heard the little boy shout, "EAT YOUR CAKE, DADDY!", and the tot had picked up the plate of cake Draco had gotten himself and shoved it in his father's face.

Draco sputtered, blinking back bits of icing that stung his face and gasping in shock as the plate fell off his face to the floor. Cake clung to his face, and as he lifted up his hands to swipe away the bits of food from his eyes and licked the icing clean from his mouth, he saw Scorpius stare at him with widened eyes and an open mouth, clearly shocked by the cake that coated his father's face. He looked up, noting that Hermione was standing before him with a shocked face. She knelt before him, reaching up a hand and swiping a bit of cake from his eyes, cradling his cake-covered face in her hands and laughing.

"Happy birthday, Draco," She managed between laughs, reaching forward and kissing his icing-covered lips.

Freshly scrubbed of the cake on his face and the annoying company that had occupied his house for the better portion of the afternoon, Draco sat in his bed in a white cotton t-shirt and pair of emerald pyjama bottoms, looking at the Potions book that Blaise had bought him. He was leafing through it half-heartedly, scowling as he thought back to the numerous fuck-ups of the afternoon when he heard a knock on the door. He looked up, setting his book to the side and arching a brow. The door creaked open and Hermione emerged, clad in a red silk dressing robe and smiling at him softly.

"Hey, you—I just dropped Scorpius off with my parents," She began, shutting the door behind her and stepping forward. Draco nodded quietly, eyeing her silently.

"Wait—why'd you drop him off?" Draco began, frowning slightly and sitting more upright in bed. "It's not like we've never fooled around while he was sleeping—we just lock the door and Silence the room."

Hermione gave her husband a small smile, and her hands trailed up to grip the tie on her robe. She undid the knot, the silky material falling to the ground to pool around her ankles, leaving his wife in an ensemble of green and black lace that clung to her skin.

"Tonight's going to be a bit different than usual, Draco," She stated lowly, smirking at her husband. "Happy birthday, love."

Happy birthday, indeed.

a/N: Hey, everyone! I decided I really wanted to do something for Draco's 32nd birthday. I mean, he's my favorite fictional character, and after role playing him for so long, he really holds a place close to my heart. I finally decided on a one shot, since my graphics skills aren't that fantastic. I had fun writing this one shot—usually I either write depressing or smutty one shots, ahah. But I wanted this one to be light-hearted, which is part of the reason why I cut it off before it got to the smut scene. If you think I should make a sequel of his birthday sex, though, just make sure you write that in your review. And as usual, review and let me know what you think, thanks!