An Indefinite Amount of Forever (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

Domestic Bliss and Taking the Piss

Draco was happy. At this very moment, he and Hermione were the picture of domestic bliss and he could not have loved it more.

Having decided to take their breakfast in the small library this morning, they each sipped their coffee, reading on opposite ends of the couch. Hermione looked fetching in one of his shirts, even though it drowned her. If not for her enormous hair to balance out her small frame, the shirt would have looked comically oversized. She was tapping her foot against Draco's calf, narrowing her eyes as though she had just read something she didn't particularly agree with, and Draco couldn't believe it was possible to love a person this much.

No sooner had he returned his attention to his own book, Hermione gasped. "Draco. Draco," she said in an urgent whisper.

"What?" he replied in the same tone.

"Look." She curled her body up into a ball and peered behind the couch, her eyes widening. "It's the Roomba."

Draco smirked as he mirrored her movements. The two of them looked like overgrown children spying on an adult doing something naughty.

It had become an embarrassing pastime between the two of them; one of those odd couple idiosyncrasies that indicates one is comfortable with their partner to the point where they don't care to appear foolish in front of them. There was no telling how many hours they had collectively wasted watching the Roomba suck dirt from the floor since Draco purchased it during the summer. 'An experiment with Muggle technology,' he called it. Draco's house-elves were naturally infuriated by the purchase, but he assured them that it would simply make their jobs easier and that if a month had gone by and they didn't love it, they could hold a bonfire and burn it in his backyard.

The month came and went, and the Roomba proved to be not only a useful tool to lighten the house-elves' burdens, but also a source of great entertainment for Draco and Hermione when they fancied turning their brains off and reverting to a state of near-infancy.

If any of their friends caught them like this, they'd Obliviate them.

"Get that crumb, Roomba. Get it," Hermione urged. Draco suspected she sometimes ate less gracefully than she normally would have in an attempt to 'feed' Roomba.

He suspected it, because he did it, too.

Narcissa would have torn him a new arsehole if she had been alive.

Draco sniggered at the machine. "My father's portrait despises Roomba. He says the noise wakes him up at night when it comes into the Portrait Hall."

"Good. Your father's a tit," Hermione intoned, never taking her eyes off the Roomba.

"You're a tit," he childishly retorted, his gaze echoing her own.

"You're a tit."

"You're mum's a tit."

They each gasped, tearing their eyes away from the Roomba.

"Draco."

He grimaced at his ill attempt at humor. "I know."

"A 'your mum' joke. Really?"

"I made a mistake. You know I love Jean."

"What are you? Twelve?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, like you're a paragon of adulthood right now, watching the Roomba suck the remnants of our breakfast from the floor. Look at us."

They were awfully precious in that moment with their feet tucked protectively under their bodies.

Draco affected an expression of utmost seriousness. "I assume the floor is hot lava."