Burnt Toast and Debauchery

by : epiphanies

*Warning : May offend some. It's not bad at all, guys, just silly. Conversational between Draco and Pansy. Contains burnt toast and muggle products that deserve worthy muttering about.

"Debauchery. Even such a word cannot contaminate the loveliest of lifestyles," Draco Malfoy drawled to a scrawny blonde, who looked up from her eggs to raise her transparent eyebrows.

"Who's written about it now?"

Draco shrugged, "Another one of our silly little friends. McDonnell. Another flimsy little essay on the greatness of sleeping around."

"Trying to get you to leave me again, is he?"

"He's trying to get everybody single."

"I think he wants me."

Draco smirked, "Or me."

"Be serious, you fat head."

"I am."

She scowled at him, "He had his chance with me."

"I had more."

She slapped his arm as he sat down with his coffee, "Don't brag about it."

He grinned at her, "Believe me, I never do."

She sighed, "What will our children think?"

"Children?" his eyes became horrifically wide, "Pansy, don't tell me-"

"I'm not," she reassured him, "But it would be terribly funny if I were, you know, expecting, wouldn't it?"

"Seeing as though I don't seem to remember anything about deflowering you..."

"That's because you were too far on Firewhiskey. Of course you don't remember."

"There could have been Siamese twins in the bed with us for all I can remember."

"That's kind of disgusting. Siamese twins are attatched."

He made a face, "Oh. Asian twins, then. Or better, Canadian twins. They'd be more drunk than I was."

She laughed, "Do you think Canadians are born with beer bottles in their mouths?"

"As we were with silver spoons."

"So gullible. So literal. So sad."

"So insatiable, hmm."

"Your insatiability has nothing to do with any aspect of your personality or character traits, I assure you," she leaned over to kiss him quickly, "I want you for your body."

"I want you because you're a Pureblood. Makes sense to me."

"You haven't always had such high standards."

"I was drunk."

"Rubbish. You were in Filch's office on top of Hermione Granger."

"She said later that I raped her."

"I wouldn't doubt it except I heard her little whispers."

"Whispers? She was screaming!"

"Bollocks. I mean... of course she was. You're THAT good...."

"Don't patronize me, Parkinson."

"Oh, darling, I should. Believe me. Otherwise you'd never be able to inflate your head back to it's normal size."


"Not really. I rather like the shape of your head."

"Thank you."

The toast popped up from their new toaster - totally non-magic, which was very strange for their household - and it was burnt.

"Damn muggle products!" fumed Draco, transfiguring the rock-hard pieces into ice cubes and throwing them into the sink, "Why did you tell me to buy this thing?"

"Because it makes supreme bagels."

"What in the name of Grindelwald is a bagel?"

She winked at him and restrained him from grabbing the toaster and throwing it out the window (which was, by the way, shuttered closed.) She kissed him, and he dropped it onto the counter.

He sighed and sat back down at the kitchen table, "Well, then. Let's try this bagel thing."

She grinned and turned her back to him. Wait until he saw the hairdryer!