Fic: Charity Begins at Home
Title: Charity Begins at Home
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Mrs Parkinson.
Word Count: 678
Warnings: Harry manages their escape.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
slythindor100/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slythindor100's prompt # 19: Yule log, and for dracoharry100/dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge prompt: Feeding the less fortunate. Part 19 of Christmas Crush (LJ/IJ/DW).
Beta(s):torino10154.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Charity Begins at Home
~
They sat, nibbling on tiny sandwiches and pastries, Mrs Parkinson chattering away about how wonderful it was to have Harry and Malfoy there and how much she loved entertaining.
Harry tuned her out, looking around at the room. Now that the lamps were lit, he could see it was actually a comfortably appointed space with scattered sofas and chairs. He could even see himself curling up in a nook and reading a book.
“…but I’m remiss!” Exclaimed Mrs Parkinson, jumping up and startling Harry. “Who knows when we’ll have guests again? I need to burn the Yule Log!”
Parkinson coughed. “Mummy, I’m sure that’s not necessary—”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs Parkinson, pulling a wand out of her robes. Levitating a gaily decorated log into the fireplace, she cast an Incendio, setting it ablaze. “There! Now we’re being properly festive as befits the season.”
Parkinson rolled her eyes. “All right, Mummy. Now would you please sit down?”
“Fine, dear. Fine.” Taking her seat, Mrs Parkinson sighed, her expression going pensive. “I just wanted to feel good about entertaining again. It’s been so long.”
“I’m sorry, Mummy.” Parkinson shot a desperate look at Malfoy, who scowled at her. After she’d glared at him hard enough, Malfoy finally rolled his eyes and spoke.
“Why don’t you entertain anymore, Mrs Parkinson?” he asked, tone gentle. “Your home is lovely. And your parties were the stuff of legend.”
Mrs Parkinson smiled wanly at him. “That’s kind of you, Draco, but these days no one wants to attend parties. Everyone’s involved in charity work, and no one wants my help.”
As Parkinson and Malfoy looked helplessly at each other, Harry coughed. “Forgive me,” he said, “but why don’t you just organise your own charity?”
Mrs Parkinson blinked. “Whatever do you mean, Mr Potter?”
Harry shrugged. “You could still throw parties, just have them for the less fortunate. Maybe you could have food and drink and use it as a way to show you care about people. That way you’d be doing your bit to help the downtrodden.”
“That is brilliant!” exclaimed Mrs Parkinson. She eyed him. “Would you mind if I credited you with the idea?”
“No—”
“Lovely!” Mrs Parkinson clapped her hands. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait to plan my first charity dinner!” Turning towards Parkinson, she continued, “I forgot to ask, dear, what made you visit tonight?”
Clearing her throat, Parkinson said, “I wanted to let you and Daddy know I’ve met someone I like at work—”
“A boyfriend?” shrieked Mrs Parkinson. “How wonderful! You simply must bring him home for dinner.”
Parkinson gaped at her mother. “But…I thought you’d be upset since you intend for me to marry that Italian wizard.”
“Oh pish!” Mrs Parkinson snapped. “We gave up on him ages ago.” She frowned. “Did we forget to mention?” She waved a hand. “Anyway, he’s no longer in the picture. You can date whomever you like.”
“You…I…” For once, Parkinson seemed at a loss for words and Harry, seeing an opportunity, cleared his throat.
“Mrs Parkinson, thanks so much for the hospitality, but it sounds like you and your daughter need to chat, and I really need to go. Malfoy, weren’t you supposed to be showing me that thing?”
“Yes!” cried Malfoy, jumping to his feet and pulling Harry up out of his chair. “We have to go and do that thing right now.”
“Of course.” Mrs Parkinson smiled. “It does seem as if Pansy and I need to talk. I can see you out—”
“it’s fine,” said Malfoy, all but dragging Harry away. “I know the way. Happy Christmas!”
“Happy Christmas to you both!” she cried after them. “Now, Pansy—”
Once in the hallway, Malfoy pulled Harry towards him. “You deserve a reward for rescuing us from that nightmare,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yeah?” Harry smirked. “I have a few ideas on how you can reward me.”
Malfoy laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Hold on to me,” he said.
Obeying, Harry clung tight.
~
Continued in Maternal Interruptus (LJ/IJ/DW).
Author:
alisanneRating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Mrs Parkinson.
Word Count: 678
Warnings: Harry manages their escape.
A/N: Written for
slythindor100/slythindor100's prompt # 19: Yule log, and for 
dracoharry100/dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge prompt: Feeding the less fortunate. Part 19 of Christmas Crush (LJ/IJ/DW).Beta(s):
torino10154.Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Charity Begins at Home
~
They sat, nibbling on tiny sandwiches and pastries, Mrs Parkinson chattering away about how wonderful it was to have Harry and Malfoy there and how much she loved entertaining.
Harry tuned her out, looking around at the room. Now that the lamps were lit, he could see it was actually a comfortably appointed space with scattered sofas and chairs. He could even see himself curling up in a nook and reading a book.
“…but I’m remiss!” Exclaimed Mrs Parkinson, jumping up and startling Harry. “Who knows when we’ll have guests again? I need to burn the Yule Log!”
Parkinson coughed. “Mummy, I’m sure that’s not necessary—”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs Parkinson, pulling a wand out of her robes. Levitating a gaily decorated log into the fireplace, she cast an Incendio, setting it ablaze. “There! Now we’re being properly festive as befits the season.”
Parkinson rolled her eyes. “All right, Mummy. Now would you please sit down?”
“Fine, dear. Fine.” Taking her seat, Mrs Parkinson sighed, her expression going pensive. “I just wanted to feel good about entertaining again. It’s been so long.”
“I’m sorry, Mummy.” Parkinson shot a desperate look at Malfoy, who scowled at her. After she’d glared at him hard enough, Malfoy finally rolled his eyes and spoke.
“Why don’t you entertain anymore, Mrs Parkinson?” he asked, tone gentle. “Your home is lovely. And your parties were the stuff of legend.”
Mrs Parkinson smiled wanly at him. “That’s kind of you, Draco, but these days no one wants to attend parties. Everyone’s involved in charity work, and no one wants my help.”
As Parkinson and Malfoy looked helplessly at each other, Harry coughed. “Forgive me,” he said, “but why don’t you just organise your own charity?”
Mrs Parkinson blinked. “Whatever do you mean, Mr Potter?”
Harry shrugged. “You could still throw parties, just have them for the less fortunate. Maybe you could have food and drink and use it as a way to show you care about people. That way you’d be doing your bit to help the downtrodden.”
“That is brilliant!” exclaimed Mrs Parkinson. She eyed him. “Would you mind if I credited you with the idea?”
“No—”
“Lovely!” Mrs Parkinson clapped her hands. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait to plan my first charity dinner!” Turning towards Parkinson, she continued, “I forgot to ask, dear, what made you visit tonight?”
Clearing her throat, Parkinson said, “I wanted to let you and Daddy know I’ve met someone I like at work—”
“A boyfriend?” shrieked Mrs Parkinson. “How wonderful! You simply must bring him home for dinner.”
Parkinson gaped at her mother. “But…I thought you’d be upset since you intend for me to marry that Italian wizard.”
“Oh pish!” Mrs Parkinson snapped. “We gave up on him ages ago.” She frowned. “Did we forget to mention?” She waved a hand. “Anyway, he’s no longer in the picture. You can date whomever you like.”
“You…I…” For once, Parkinson seemed at a loss for words and Harry, seeing an opportunity, cleared his throat.
“Mrs Parkinson, thanks so much for the hospitality, but it sounds like you and your daughter need to chat, and I really need to go. Malfoy, weren’t you supposed to be showing me that thing?”
“Yes!” cried Malfoy, jumping to his feet and pulling Harry up out of his chair. “We have to go and do that thing right now.”
“Of course.” Mrs Parkinson smiled. “It does seem as if Pansy and I need to talk. I can see you out—”
“it’s fine,” said Malfoy, all but dragging Harry away. “I know the way. Happy Christmas!”
“Happy Christmas to you both!” she cried after them. “Now, Pansy—”
Once in the hallway, Malfoy pulled Harry towards him. “You deserve a reward for rescuing us from that nightmare,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yeah?” Harry smirked. “I have a few ideas on how you can reward me.”
Malfoy laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Hold on to me,” he said.
Obeying, Harry clung tight.
~
Continued in Maternal Interruptus (LJ/IJ/DW).
no subject
Awkward dinner parties for the win...
no subject
*nods*
I know what you mean. They are fun to write. ;)