Simple Kind Of Life

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Peeking into the room like it was used to, the sun illuminated the emerald-decorated master bedroom with pleasure of seeing the owner in another mishap so early in the day. Not disappointed one bit, the sun flashed its rays on Draco Malfoy's glare as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

A loud giggle echoed in the room.

Another second ticked on the clock, signaling his loss of time and patience. He inhaled deeply to steady his anger before saying through gritted teeth, "This will be far more painful than you can ever imagine."

Plop.

Draco narrowed his silver eyes as a large stream of liquid fell from his ceiling, damping the metallic bedding that had been washed the previous night.

"That's it!" His patience was done for. He pulled his neck back, facing the ceiling. "Demetria Malfoy, if you do not come down here right this second I will curse you back into your mother's womb!"

Another loud giggle broke through the room. A blonde, chubby, beautiful toddler stared at Draco upside down from her place on the ceiling. She was on all fours, the lid of her bottle still clutched between her teeth as the actual bottle that contained her milk was discarded on her parents' bed. There went her breakfast; Demi was perfectly capable of understanding she would not be getting a new, warm bottle after this.

"Demetria—Wait! Okay, no, no!" Draco's would-be hiss was cut short as panic pounded into his chest as his child waved a pink palm at him, letting go of her unsafe, but still safe hold on the ceiling. "Demi, no! Do not let go of that bloody ceiling, do you hear me?"

Demi opened her mouth, the lid falling from her mouth, and gurgled. Her brown eyes glittered with mirth.

"How did my morning end up like this?" Draco contemplated to himself with his eyes still fixed on his two year-old daughter. "Being woken by that bloody beeping contraption, no breakfast, no trousers," he glanced down at himself, frowning at his black boxers, "finding my daughter dangling in the air, my wand in her pocket..." 

He stopped before his anger intensified. It was impossible for things to get worse.

"Morning, mate!"

At the voice that now echoed in his bedroom, Draco knew that somewhere in hell his Aunt Bella was laughing hysterically at his luck. Draco was close to banging his head on a wall to welcome unconsciousness.

"Oi, Demi, what are you doing?"

Cursing silently, Draco rubbed his temples in hopes his headache would dissolve. "She's hanging from the bloody ceiling, you idiot. What do you think she's doing?"

"I'm guessing she knicked those MoonSocks from Weasley when Ginny took her to the shop yesterday, eh?" Blaise waved a dark palm at the baby. "Kids. They do the darnest things."

Draco made sure his daughter still had her hands on the ceiling and her little feet—coated in the brightest of yellow material—were still firmly on it too as he turned to glare at Blaise. "I'm glad you're having a pleasant morning, Zabini. Couldn't be happier that Cho let you two give it a go before you came here, honestly. But could you please get Demetria off the blasted ceiling before her mother murders me?"

"Can you really tell?" Blaise chuckled more, completely oblivious to his friend's deep irritation as he  blushed lightly, pulling out his wand to point it above his head. "It's the glow, isn't it? Yeah, mate, I get rather peachy-looking when I've satisfactorily completed my husbandly duties."

Trying not to gag or just plain sucker-punch Blaise on the head, Draco outstretched his arms as the words 'Wingardium Leviosa' came from Zabini and Demi came floating down, giggling like the proud half-Malfoy she was.