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The Hot Cocoa Incident

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Fizzy, the house-elf, was quietly making her way through the small gathering of her master and mistress’ friends and family, laden with a tray of freshly made hot cocoa.

“Doggie!”

Zeus, one of two Crups the family owned, dodged out of the unknown child’s way and nearly ran over Fizzy. The little elf tried to hold on to the tray in her hands, but the silver tray slipped, launching one of the mugs into her master’s lap.

The scalding hot liquid splashing across his upper thighs pulled Draco from the heated discussion he had been having with Ron Weasley.

“What the bloody fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He yelled at Fizzy.

The elf squeaked and ducked.

Ginny had yelled at her young son, James, for pestering the dogs and had nearly drowned out Draco’s yelling, but his wife heard.

“Draco! Watch your language! Your son is in the room,” his wife hissed, reprimanding him discretely. Gesturing to their guests, she added, “And our friends’ children, too.”

“I don’t bloody well care, Hermione,” Draco snapped back. “That thing did it on purpose.”

Taking a sip from her drink, his wife knelt next to the frightened elf. “Fizzy, thank you for bringing the drinks in tonight, but I’ll take it from here.”

The small elf stared at her wide-eyed. “Is you firing, Fizzy?”

She shook her head in response and ignoring her husband’s mumbled, ‘yes,’ loudly responded, “No, we are not firing you. Take the rest of the evening off and I’ll speak with you in the morning.”

Nodding its head, the elf turned.

“And go straight to bed, no punishing yourself.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the elf replied before quickly leaving the parlour.

Standing up, she turned to face her furious husband.

Draco growled, glaring at her. “You’re just going to let that damned elf off without punishment for burning me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what has you in such a tizzy, but no, I will be seeing to Fizzy in the morning seeing as I have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.”

He looked at her confused.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. Sometimes her husband really tried her patience. “You and your burnt man bits, you nitwit.”

Draco looked offended at her words. “Hey!”

She turned him around, pushing him towards the exit. “You do want more children don't you? If that answer is yes, and it better be, then I need to take a look. Now, go up to our room, take off your trousers and I’ll be up in a moment.”

“But—“

“Just go, Draco.”

Once her husband was out of the room, she made her way over to her mother-in-law.

“’Cissa, I apologise for this, but do you mind watching Scorpius for a moment? Fizzy accidentally spilled hot cocoa on Draco and I need to see if any damage has been done.”

Narcissa smiled at her daughter-in-law. “Not at all, dear. I heard Draco yelling, but saw you had it under control; there was no need to interfere. Although I do wish he’d watch his language around my grandson. I know he’s only six months old, but he doesn’t need to be subjected to such words.”

Squeezing her mother-in-law’s hand, she replied, “Especially since he just might repeat said words. Not to mention the other children in attendance that are already talking.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, I will be having words with my dear husband about that. I know he was upset, but even during my pregnancy he never cursed.”

“I know,” Narcissa agreed. “Go take care of your husband before he blows his cauldron again. Scorpius will be fine down here.” Narcissa left Hermione’s side, muttering, “If only I can pry him from his godfather’s arms.”

Hermione looked and sure enough, her son was snuggled into the arms of Blaise Zabini. Blaise looked up, feeling the gaze of the two witches on him. He grinned, and grasping Scorpius’ hand in his own, waved at Hermione and Narcissa.

They both laughed at Blaise’s actions. It was moments like this where Hermione knew their decision to ask Blaise to be their son’s godfather was a brilliant idea.

Shaking her head, she quickly made her way from the parlour and to their bedroom just upstairs. Entering their bathroom, she found her husband standing in front of the counter, his trousers and pants down around his ankles, inspecting the damage that had been done.

“Sit on the counter,” she ordered.

“Why?”

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she raised an eyebrow. “Because I said sit on the counter, and if you want the family jewels to be healed properly, by a trained Healer, then I need to be able to see what I’m doing. Now, sit.”

Draco grumbled, but followed his wife’s directions, toeing off his shoes and letting his trousers and pants slip to the floor as he sat on the countertop. “This is humiliating.”

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at his comment; she pulled her long, curly hair back into a ponytail. The brunette witch had not changed much over the years, although she was tempted to cut her hair short due to her son’s fascination with the long locks. "You mean to tell me it’s more humiliating than being turned into a ferret?"

A blush quickly spread up Draco’s neck and across his face. And thanks to Draco cutting his hair short years ago to separate his new image from his Hogwarts years, Hermione saw that even the tips of his ears were turning red. “No.”

“I thought as much. And this here,” she gestured between the two of them, “is nothing compared to the scene you caused downstairs.” She waved her wand over his lap twice, once to check the damage that had been done, and on the second time, she murmured a cooling spell over the reddened skin. Lightly tapping her wand against his thigh, she added, “And if I ever hear you use words like that in front of our son, or any child, again, I will hex you so quickly you’ll be babbling in confusion for a fortnight after!”

Reaching around him, she grabbed the burn salve sitting on the counter behind her husband. She opened the jar and scooped out some of the cool, thick concoction.

“I’ll put this on the more sensitive places and you should be fine in no time. The liquid wasn’t able to do much damage because of your clothes. It just caused some minor irritation rather than any actual burns.”

“It definitely felt more painful than just some minor irritation, Hermione,” Draco groused.

“I know, Draco, but it honestly is some minor irritation, once I apply this you’ll be fine within the hour. If you had just had your trousers and pants on the damage would’ve been more severe, but with your robes, they took the brunt of most of the liquid.”

Draco hissed as Hermione applied the cool salve to his heated skin. Once she was finished, he bent down and kissed his wife’s head. “Thank you, love.”

“You’re welcome, my dragon.” Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek in return. “Just a moment more and you’ll be able to put your pants and trousers back on.”

Hermione washed her hands, as Draco redressed and followed her back into their bedroom. “My dragon, what happened down there? It’s been a long time, nearly ten years, since I’ve heard you yell like that at a house-elf.”

Draco sighed, leading the way into their bedroom. “Weasley was getting under my skin.” He shrugged. “You know I can only handle him and his sly remarks for so long.”

Hermione stopped and turned to face him. “Oh Draco, I wish you would have told me.”

“It’s not like there’s a whole lot you can do. He only acts like that when you, Ginny, or Harry are not around.”

“Yes, there is quite a bit I can do. Ron is supposed to be my friend and if he can’t treat my husband with respect or at least ignore you all together, then he has no business being around us.”

Draco grabbed his wife’s hands. “Love, I may not like Weasley, but I know you do, so don’t destroy one of your longest friendships because of a petty school rivalry.”

“It’s not petty if he still acting like a child where you’re concerned.” Hermione squeezed his hands. “I’ll talk to Ron when we go back downstairs, he’s been given enough chances and if Harry can treat you nicely, then so can Ron. Now, when we go back to join our guests, besides me speaking with Ron, let’s actually join our guests. No going to Fizzy’s room, don’t even worry about Fizzy tonight, I will take care of it in the morning.”

“I still can’t believe what happened, Fizzy’s never done that before.”

“It was an accident, Draco. I don’t know if one of the dogs moved suddenly and startled her or if it was James’ laughter, but it was an accident that’s all. Now I told you I would take care of it so no more fretting.” Smoothing her thumb over the frown line in his forehead, she smiled as an idea formed in her head. “How about this, if you stop thinking about Fizzy and having hot cocoa poured on you tonight, then I’ll give you a reward when we finally make it to bed tonight.”

His eyes lit up at the promise of a reward. “Oh? And what might that reward be?”

A smirk spread across her lips, knowing it would turn him on.

He groaned as an image of his wife on her knees before him, her lips wrapped around his cock, and his hands buried in her long, chestnut-coloured curls came to mind.

“You sucking me off like the good cock sucking slut you are.”

Just the thought of his wife doing exactly what he just said, tonight before bed, was already making him hard. He hissed as a jolt of pain raced up his cock.

She patted his cheek. “And that’s exactly what I will do to you tonight, as long as you forget about Fizzy and the hot cocoa incident.”

“You are an evil witch, I hope you realise that, Hermione.”

She slowly made her way to their bedroom door, her hips swaying back and forth. “I learned from the best.” Stopping in the doorway, she looked over her shoulder, her smirk still present upon her lips. “Your mother.”

The pain instantly vanished as his erection deflated at the mention of his mother.

Hermione’s laugh floated back through the doorway as she disappeared down the hallway. “Now, behave and you’ll get your reward.”

Draco smirked to himself as he slowly followed in his wife’s footsteps. She may have got one over on him at the moment, but he’d return the favour tonight in bed.