Work Text:
The War of the Toddlers
Draco
"Dwaaaaacoooo! Come look!" The blonde boy pressed his pudgy hands on the soft, colorful foam mat to support himself as he got on his feet. After swaying to get in balance (and quite countereffectively, almost landing on the ground face-first), he slowly but surely shuffled to a smaller, brown-haired boy wearing the most absolutely, ridiculous, hideously red pyjamas he has ever seen. Draco the Toddler's nose scrunched up in pure toddler-like annoyance upon laying his gray (and equally annoyed) eyes on his classmate's bright green pair, shining through his big glasses.
"Whaaaaatt?" Draco oh-so acceptably whined. His young mind was yet to know why Harry enthusiastically propped on his uninviting hand the most horrifying beast ever! It was a small black bug with two even blacker sticks poking out of its head like the real monsters, and, and, it's back was even worse! It was as red as Four-Eyes' pyjamas and it had many even blacker dots that scared the living daylights out of the poor toddler.
"It's a Wendybug." Harry lectured Draco all about "wendybugs" in a teacher-like tone. Instinctively, the real teacher approached the students and comfortably kneeled to get to their eye level. Her almond hair was extremely bushy but her face was a rosy hue, much to Draco's delight. She was easily his favorite teacher.
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Teacher
The teacher internally worried about the wrong information Harry was giving his classmate, and she gently tapped the child's shoulder. "Harry, it's called a ladybug." "Yes, I said it right. Wendybug. Dweyco Waffle, that," he proudly and professionally gestured to the monster that resided on the blonde toddler's palm, "is a Wendybug." Draco would have cutely shooed the "wendybug" away had he not started crying and throwing fits.
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Janitor
"Waaaaaah!" Draco wailed. Flailing his short arms in the air (poor wendybug, I wonder where it went? Oh well, it's going to turn up as I sweep), he continued, "Teacher Hermione! Hawwy said I'm Dweyco Waffle!" I'm Dew-weyco Mahfoy, right? Waaaaaaah!"
Stomping his squeaky shoes, Harry whined. "But I said it right! Dweyco, Waffle! Dweyco Waffle! Dweyco—"
"He's doing it again!"
"Doing what again! Hmph!"
"Waaaaah!"
"Waaaaah!"
Both toddlers started crying. I helplessly watched as my dearest wife struggled to keep the two boys in control. Good thing they're the only students left—oh wait, there's still Luna. But she seems unbothered by the ruckus in the room.
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Luna
Luna had no idea as to what was going on. She continued fumbling with her colored pens and drew.
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Janitor
I couldn't help it. I was leaning on the wall, clutching my dearest broom and shaking with my silent cackles. Hermione threw a split second glare my way, but it was no use. My ginger bangs were already dancing as I continued shaking in unintended laughter. Hermione glared at me again, but for a longer moment.
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Harry
Harry didn't know why Draco was crying, but it was apparently because of him. He suddenly felt determined. Harry had to make his friend feel better! Dozens of sparkling ideas flew through Harry the Toddler's small mind. One of them was to, quite surprisingly, kiss Draco's sadness away.
Harry's wonderfully brilliant idea sparked from this thought: when he had cried, his mama had always kissed him, and then he'd felt better afterward.
Harry dashed and bumped into clueless Draco, who was still crying, and pressed his lips to his friend's soft ones. Almost immediately, Harry stopped hearing cries from Draco.
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Draco
Draco stared at Harry's face in pure shock. However, he started to feel better and his previously wide eyes started to close.
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Teacher
Hermione quietly rambled on to herself about all the explanations she would have to give everyone as to why two male toddlers, in the middle of the classroom, at 3:13 p.m. were kissing.
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Luna
Luna stared at her classmates and mentally saved several shots of the kiss to her very organized memory palace. She'd tease them about it later on in life.
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Janitor
I sighed as I heard two mothers conversing in the hallway. When their footsteps were loud, they suddenly started whispering to each other.
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Mothers
"Okay Lily, I won the bet. You owe me twenty."
"Well, Narcissa, technically, they aren't together, they just kissed and stuff—"
"Make it thirty—"
"Fine! I'll pay up. Wait. You don't even need my money! You're rich enough!"