Lifestyles of the Rich and Wandless

Chapter Two: Never Forget That Toasters are For Toasting Toast

Draco woke up the next morning with a strange feeling in his back.

"Stupid Muggle mattress," he muttered, getting up and pulling on a crisp black muggle suit - the only other thing he had in his trunk other than his mother's clothes.

His mother said it was called a tornado or a tuxturnip or something. Typically Muggle.

"Nymphadora!" he hollered.

No one answered.

Shrugging, Draco opened his door and walked out of his room in the tight, uncomfortable suit.

"Nymphadora, I need breakfast!" he roared, stomping down the stairs to the kitchen.

"I'm your bloody guardian for the summer, and an Auror; I'm not a bloody house elf, like you pointed out yesterday!" yelled Nymphadora.

"Could've fooled me," he sneered, knowing what he said didn't make much sense. He couldn't think on an empty stomach.

"Little bastard," he heard her mutter.

"Come on," he said. "You won't be a very good guardian if your only charge is dead after starving!"

She walked right in behind him and pinched his cheeks hard.

He squealed in pain. The Mudblood had long nails!

"Could miss a meal and nothing spectacular would happen," she muttered.

"Hey! Hey!" said Draco, annoyed.

"Bread's on the table, butter and marmalade are in the refrigerator, and you can also get some eggs and bacon too if you want."

"Okay," said Draco, plopping down on a chair. "I'll take everything."

Nymphadora rolled her eyes.

"I'm not making it for you, Malfoy. Go do it yourself!"

Draco grumbled incoherently under his breath.

"Okay, I'm going to work today, I'll be back around five," said Nymphadora, who closed her eyes tightly, looking as if she was rather constipated.

Draco was about to laugh aloud, but he found himself gasping in horror the next second.

Giant purple worms were exploding out of his cousin's head!

"NYMPHADORA! WATCH OUT! GIANT PURPLE WORMS!" he roared in despair.

I mustn't let my guardian for the summer be injured, or else I won't have any food, he thought feverishly.

When he saw that his cousin and guardian did nothing but laugh, he dove and knocked her sprawling to the ground, and he, balling his hand into a fist, started punching the worms - hopefully they'd be stunned or something...

"DRACO!" he heard Nymphadora scream.

It was then, as he grabbed what he thought was a giant purple worm, he realized that the repulsive thing was actually Nymphadora's hair.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screamed in his ear.

"Saving you... from... your hair!" he said. "I thought it was a worm or something! Honestly!"

Nymphadora raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"How did you do that anyway?" he asked, climbing up from the floor and straightening his crisp Muggle suit.

"I'm a metamorphmagus," said Nymphadora, rolling her eyes, and then she glared at him. "You've ruined my good robes."

"Those are good robes?" he sneered, walking away from his cousin who still lay sprawled on the floor. "I'd hate to see your Muggle clothing."

She let out a loud roar of frustration. Draco rather thought she sounded like one of those puny kids that tried to act as if they were lions or something.

Draco's stomach rumbled.

"So are you making me breakfast or do I have to do it myself?" he said to his cousin, who had gotten up at last.

She glared at him and stomped out of the kitchen, and a few seconds later he heard a door slam.

Draco sighed.

First meeting lumps of fat that talked and walked, now having to make breakfast? Throw in Harry Potter, his mudblood beaver, a couple of brainless redhead Weasleys, and he'd prefer Azkaban.

Draco's stomach rumbled again.

It was now or never.

Draco rolled up his sleeve.

Breakfast time.

***

"Tell me again, Draco, how did you manage to set fire to half the kitchen within two minutes of me leaving the house?"

Draco glared at her, nursing a burn on his hand.

"Stupid Muggle food!" he yelled.

"What did you do?" said Nymphadora, who was positively fuming.

"I put the food into that roaster like you told me to!"

"It's called a toaster, Malfoy, and what did you do then?"

"I pressed the button thing!" he yelled, frustrated.

Nymphadora looked thoughtful, her wand still in her hand.

"How much did you put into the toaster at once?"

"Well, I put the milk, the bacon, the eggs, the bread, and some of that cereal," said Draco, counting up the things he had wanted to have for breakfast.

"Oh you... IDIOT!" roared Nymphadora, smacking him around the head.

"Hey! Watch the hair!"

"The toaster is for making TOAST!" she screamed.

"So?" said Draco.

"Oh just go, go outside and play or whatever," sneered his cousin. "Before you blow this house up by flicking a remote or something."

"What's a remote?"

"GO!"

"Malfoys aren't bossed around! Malfoys are respected!" he said, glaring at his cousin.

"Yeah, but this particular Malfoy here doesn't have a wand."

He gulped.

"Good point," he said, withdrawing, almost sprinting out of the kitchen.

He decided to add a parting shot.

"And when you're done fixing everything, make me some toast!"

Draco smirked, hearing his cousin shriek out in frustration.

He didn't really want any breakfast anymore. Setting half a Muggle kitchen on fire kind of made you lose your appetite.

He walked out in his crisp suit, which fortunately was not burnt by the fire, and he strode along the road, deciding he'd explore more.

"Looking like Bill Gates today, eh blondie?" came a sneering voice.

Fire! Foes! Danger!

It was the fat boy called Big D!

"What's a Bill Gates?" asked Draco politely.

"Listen to him," sneered the spotty boy next to Draco.

"I thought I made it clear to you that you're not to walk around here anymore," snarled Big D. "Or do you want to see why I'm a boxing legend?"

"I'd love to!" said Draco in a friendly tone. "So, where are these boxes? And what do you do with them?"

He didn't expect a fist to ram into his chest.

"Think you're funny, do you?"

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Can't we all just get along?"

Big D and his sidekicks laughed.

"I've got money, you know," said Draco in a greasy tone.

Lesson One: When in a situation where you find yourself at a disadvantage, always think of bribery.

"Money, eh?" said Big D. "That would explain the suit."

He poked at Draco's Muggle suit rudely.

"Yeah," said Draco. "Not that I have any on me, of course."

"Where is this money then, blondie?"

Draco was about to point out that the big wobbling mass of fat was also blond, but he thought it was better to leave that until later.

"Up your freakin' arse!" he yelled, and pushing the spotty boy out of the way, he sprinted as fast as he could away.

"Get him!" he heard Big D roar.

His sidekicks ran for Draco, who wished for nothing more than his wand that moment.

However, he found that he could outpace Big D's little minions, and as for the blob himself, he couldn't even see him.

He laughed, turning around and waving at the boys who were panting in pursuit.

"Bye, you stinking Muggles!"

Suddenly, one of the trouser legs on his tornado (or was it tuxturnip?) got caught on a crack in the Muggle pavement and he went flying down, scraping his chin on the ground painfully.

However, as he pushed himself up, mentally thinking about ways to eliminate Muggle pavement from the world forever, he saw he had a much bigger problem at that current place and time.

Three twig-like, pimply boys were flapping their arms crazily, closing in on him, and in the distance, he could see a massive pudding running after them.

"No!" he shrieked as the first boy dived on him.

"No!" he shrieked again as the second boy dived on top of both of them.

"No!" he shrieked louder than ever as the third boy landed with a loud boom on top of all three of them.

And in the distance, was the biggest lump of fat in the world, and it was running up towards them and much to his dismay he saw it fly off the floor and...

"NOOOOOOO!" he shrieked. "GOD SAVE ME! I SHOULD'VE CHOSEN AZKABAN!"

And even as his words escaped, the big whale landed down on all three of them.

"Big D! Get off!" roared one of the fat boy's friends.

Within five minutes, after Big D managed to straighten himself up into a standing position, the four bullies grabbed Draco and pinned him against a wall.

"Now you're going to see what happens when you insult the Dud-Meister."

Draco's lip was bleeding, his chest felt like a hundred wild buffalo had stampeded over him, and his mind was screaming 'Why didn't I choose Azkaban'.

He spat.

"What, Dud-Meister? Is that some other name for big stinking lump of fat?"

"Why you..." said Big D, advancing in on Draco.

Draco closed his eyes and braced himself.

"Leave that kid alone, Diddydinkdums," he heard an oddly familiar voice say coolly.

Draco opened his eyes and saw Big D shaking with fear, his mouth open stupidly.

And behind the big wobbling lump of fat, was none other than Harry Potter.