Rating/Warnings: PG. Violence, I suppose. But funny violence!
Word count: 375
Summary: It was a disaster. An unmitigated disaster.
It was a disaster. An unmitigated disaster.
Ron was slumped in an uncomfortable-looking heap on the floor, unconscious. Harry and Draco wrestled, wandless, seemingly intent on pounding the shit out of the other. Perhaps Hermione should have expected that—after all, there was a history between the two. A long, violent history.
Blaise was trying to shoot down the multiple flying toasters swooping around the flat. They were apparently trying to dive-bomb just about everyone and shooting toast everywhere. Every time he destroyed one, however, the various pieces shuddered and turned into brand new, if slightly smaller, flying toasters. She was going to kill Ron for whatever spell he put on it—it had started out as a brand-fucking new toaster.
She never should have sent those canaries at him all those years ago.
“Will you stop that?!” Hermione shouted at him, hands fisted in the fabric of her robes as she watched her flat being systematically destroyed.
The dark-skinned man did stop, but his lips pinched and he didn’t look pleased at being ordered about. He’d just have to deal with it, Hermione thought darkly. Lovers and in-love or not, this was partly his fault and he’d damn well help instead of hinder.
At least it couldn’t get much worse, she thought with frustrated optimism. Harry and Ron now knew about her lovers, and even if this hadn’t gone very well at all (understatement of the year), it was at least over.
That was, of course, when a knock sounded at the door and her parents came in.
Eyes wide at the mini-battle going on and the destruction strewn around, they froze just inside the door. A piece of toast crunched under her mother’s foot. “What is going on here?” her mother finally asked, when everyone else (except the toasters) noticed their presence and stopped guiltily.
Ducking out of the way of an especially ambitious toaster (her flat now looked like a screensaver, dammit), Hermione was temporarily at a loss for words. “Um. Mum, Dad. I’d like you to meet my boyfriends, Blaise and Draco.”
Later, she would attribute her father’s unconsciousness to the toaster dropping on his head, instead of the news that she was in a ménage à trois with two men.
A/N: Written some weeks ago for dyno_drabbles.