Word Count: 850
Summary: Draco plays with his Peep.
Warning: I’d warn for angst, but come on you guys, this is a fic about Peeps. Don’t take it seriously. ;)
Author’s Notes: Written for regan_v’s Easter Crackfic Challenge. This is unbeta'd, so if you spot anything, please let me know.
ETA: Just noticed my crackfic has at least one canon inconsistency, so I hereby deem it slightly AU. ;)
Crabbe and Goyle were laughing like loons.
“What are you doing?” demanded Draco.
Neither answered, but they stepped aside, revealing four brightly colored candy birds on the floor in front of the fireplace. They were obviously Muggle candies, but someone—surely not Crabbe or Goyle--had animated them, and the small, sugar-coated confections were hopping and squeaking in alarm.
“What are those? Where did you get them?”
“They’re called Peeps,” said Goyle. “We got them from some Gryffindors. No one wanted to admit to having Muggle candy. So we took ‘em."
“We were going to burn them,” said Goyle, “but…” He paused, an excited gleam coming into his eyes. “D’you think the Cruciatus curse works on Peeps?”
“No!” Draco shouted, then tightened his lips before assuming a calmer expression. “I mean, I want them. Give them to me.”
Crabbe crossed his arms, that new defiance creeping into his expression.
“What if we don’t want to?” he said.
“Look, I’ll trade you. You know my mother sent chocolate rabbits. I’ll give you one each.”
The two of them paused, indecision clear on their faces.
“Solid or hollow?” Crabbe finally asked.
“Solid. Of course,” Draco said in irritation as he scooped up the Peeps.
One of the Peeps had a damaged face. Goyle or—more likely—Crabbe had stretched and distorted it.
It reminded him strongly of Potter’s face last week.
“What are you, the Peep Who Lived?”
Snatching up a quill, he drew a lightning bolt on the Peep’s forehead. It squirmed in protest, but made no other sound. Perhaps its mouth was too squished.
When his task was finished, Draco placed it on his desk, alongside the other Peeps.
Most of them skittered and chirped, but the Potter Peep gazed at him solemnly, clearly sobered by the misfortunes it had suffered.
Draco grabbed another Peep and drew dots all over its face. On a third, he drew squiggles, representing frizzy hair. The animation spell on the remaining Peep appeared to have been botched, and its stare was more vacant than the others. It would do fine for Lovegood as it was.
Turning his attention back to the Potter Peep, he poked it with his mother’s wand. “Going to take this one from me? I’d just like to see you try.” He poked again, watching as the round indentation slowly filled out again.
The other Peeps hopped in agitation, their tiny alarmed squeaks growing louder.
“He’s not going to save you, you know,” Draco told them. “No one can.”
Producing his last remaining chocolate rabbit, Draco placed it on his desk. After inspecting it for a moment, he broke off the nose, transfigured its eyes and mouth to look smaller and meaner, then animated it.
He wished he’d let the eyes alone as they narrowed further, malicious dark chocolate slits.
It spotted the Peeps and bounded across the table menacingly.
The others scattered, but Potter Peep stood bravely at the edge of the desk.
“Do something, you idiot. Are you going to just stand there, not even put up a fight?”
That was apparently exactly what Potter Peep was going to do. It gazed at the charging chocolate rabbit as solemnly as it had at Draco a moment ago.
The rabbit collided with the Peep, and they both tumbled off the desk. Potter Peep bounced, but the Dark Chocolate Rabbit shattered.
Draco scooped up the Peep. It appeared a bit stunned, but otherwise undamaged.
“Not bad, Scarhead,” he said quietly.
The door opened, and Draco spun around, hiding the Potter Peep in his pocket.
“It’s time for Potions,” said Goyle.
“Right.” Knocking the remaining Peeps into a drawer, Draco grabbed up his Potions book and left the room.
It was Snape rather than Slughorn at the head of the class. Slughorn’s illness, Snape hinted strongly, was due to nothing more than an excess of chocolate and candied pineapple, and Snape seemed in no mood to tolerate further disruptions.
Draco resolved to keep the Peep in his pocket, but it wouldn’t cooperate. Just like Potter. It hopped and jiggled in his pocket until he finally gave up and set it on the worktable, behind the cauldron.
The Peep hopped toward the ingredients, and Draco scooted it back again, out of sight.
“You stay away from those,” he admonished quietly.
Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering at something—a crudely drawn picture of Snape in a bunny suit. Brilliant.
Goyle let out a particularly loud guffaw, and sure enough, Snape’s gaze shot to their table, first to the drawing Crabbe and Goyle were foolishly not even trying to hide, and then…to the Potter Peep. Draco scooped it up protectively, but it was too late. Snape had seen it.
Draco’s eyes darted from the lightning bolt scar drawn neatly on the Peep’s forehead to Snape’s suspicious face as he strode across the room. There was nothing else to be done. Draco dropped it into Crabbe’s bubbling cauldron, squelching the stab of regret he felt as it disappeared under the viscous fluid.
It had only been a stupid Muggle candy—nothing more.