IWDTLY (A Draco Malfoy Love Story) ... 31 -Part 1-

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Baby, the sun shines for you, and the sky cries too, believe me you, because it’s all true: I’m in an uber good mood right now. You have no frickin’ idea how, oh, I don’t know, happy I am. Gah, I’m oozing happiness right frickin’ now. Why is that the only thing I can think of saying?

I Was Dared to Love You (A Draco Malfoy Love Story)

Chapter 31: Hot Cocoa and the Vengeance of Mrs. Jesperson

-Part 1-: Three Little Words

            We ended up sledding for three hours straight, no breaks whatsoever. All around us were fluffy snowflakes, puffs of visible breaths, and icicles of beading sweat. In all honesty, I loved it. My brother’s suggestion of getting home for lunch was an hour late and my mother was ready to bite his head off, I’m sure. My mother maybe a tightwad, but she was also a tightwad with a schedule. So whenever my dobe of a brother and I were late, we more than likely got in trouble. And by ‘in trouble’ I mean getting banned from game night for every day of the week, plus no getting tucked in that night. Harsh punishment, I know.

            When Draco finally tired out from tumbling and stealing my Speeder, I told him it was time to head home. I saw in his misty gray eyes that he wanted to argue, but when I stomped my foot and pointed to the Jesperson house, he grudgingly huffed over the fence. I threw my sled over, along with everyone else’s, I took satisfaction in the fact that Draco yelped in pain.

            The day had been fun. Seriously, I couldn’t have loved it more. Having a bloody Malfoy touching me without some sort of pain coming out of it was epic. Who knew Draco would be gentle enough to stop the impact from hitting me whenever we crashed (after the first run, of course)?

            I sure didn’t.

            Stumbling up to the porch, I began patting off the excessive snow, silently wondering how I got it inside my hat. Wiggling like a wet dog, I try to shake loose of the heavy patches that had somehow stuck to me.

            “Hey, Vi! Help me get my back, will ya?” Greggie yelled as he twisted in an awkward circle, attempting to hit his back. Grinning ruefully, I waddle over to him, feeling like an idiot, mind you, soon smacking his back aggressively. He landed face down into a pile of rather dirty slush, getting his sweaty blue hair tattered even further. In return, Devon tackled me into the snow, giving me a whitewash, hating me for smacking his ‘boyfriend.’ Muffled, I could hear his mechanical laughter, loving every moment of my squirming pain.

            Coming up for a much needed breathe of air, I cough out snow and begin laughing hysterically. Devon was still straddling me from behind, preparing for his second attack. Discreetly as possible, my fists piles a bit of snow and whips it into Devon’s unguarded face. I watch as, in theoretical slow-mo, he flies backward and lands in a heap of the word ‘ow.’ Just as I’m throwing another ball of crystalized water, the front door opens to my mother’s face. To say that she was not expecting snow to hit her in the stomach is an understatement. Instantly the snowball melts from her angered body heat.

            “Oh, God! Mom, I am so sorry!” Wincing, my dearest mother wipes the snow with a flick of her wrist. Her favorite summer dress, which actually made her butt look huge, now had a splotch of white water and a damp spot right where her belly button would be.

            “Quite alright, honey. I was just going to call for you children.” Gah, she used the word ‘children.’ Now I know she’s angry. There are three words in the world of Mrs. Jesperson that were an immense warning for the coming revenge or wrath she was sure to bring upon you.

            Word Number One: Whatever. Subtle, but dangerous. Used often in the middle of an argument she would have won anyways. Usually said in the sentence, “Do whatever you want, I don’t care!” Under any circumstance do not to whatever you want. You willregret it.

            Word Number Two: Children. A moment of let loose threats. Used to tell you who the adult is in the situation; to show you exactly who could starve you, take away privileges, and ground you until you’re forty-two.

            Word Number Three: Okay. Mom never agrees. Like, ever. Doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at the time, but when your sixty-nine dollar necklace of a seashell goes missing without a word, take heed. Mom stole it. No doubt about it. Expect to find it in the rafters with all the other things she took knowing you wouldn’t have the responsibility to take care of it. Like my pet goldfish, Swimmer. Poor guy.

            And now, she was using Word Number Two. Time to ease her down from her anger high. “Hey Mom, we just lost track of time is all. Promise it won’t happen again. Pretty, pretty promise! Now how about some of your world famous hot cocoa with homemade marshmallows? Sounds like it would hit the spot, eh guys?” I brutally nudge Draco in the side, urging him to say something suck-up-like. And when it doubt, suck up. Especially with my mother. Mrs. Jesperson loved it whenever someone mentioned her hot cocoa (which is actually quite delicious).

---------| Draco’s POV |----------

            I was admiring the way Violet’s hair shone with the snowflakes that had gotten stuck in it, when she elbowed me in the gut. Wheezing a breath out, I cough into my glove. Glaring up at her, I note that she wasn’t even looking at me. Earlier, when we were sledding, I got to have her in my arms. She had snuggled into me, rolled on top of me, looked at me. Now why was she all pissy? Another jab from the other side of me left my stomach in utter pain. Glancing over there, I see Gavin staring upward with fear. Following his gaze, I come eye-to-eye with Violet’s dead scary mother. Huh, who knew her eyes were the same color as Violet’s? But that was beside the point. Her lips curled in a threatening smile and I weakly smiled back, wishing to throw myself into the house and hide in my temporary room. This woman had a frightening aura of dominance.

            I immediately felt terribly sorry for Mr. Jesperson.

            “Hot cocoa sounds awesome!” I puffed out, still out of air, holding my gut awkwardly. “With extra homemade 'mellows, of course!” I added before Violet could stab me again with her elbow.

            “Yay!” she yelped like a young girl, hustling her butt (which looked strangely huge) into the house, heading for the kitchen I presume.

            What a terrifying woman.

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