Draco Malfoy and the Fourth of July

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER. OR THE FOURTH OF JULY.

They sat in the field, listening to decent live music, surrounded by Muggles, and Draco found himself surprisingly content. It wasn't a bad way to live, he decided, without magic. They certainly had discovered ingenious ways to get around the limitations of having no magic.

He pulled Hermione closer to him, breathed in the scent of her, and laid back on their blanket. He had made her pack one, his pure-blood sensibilities still enforcing his pride enough that he knew there was no way he was going to sit on the ground without a layer of cloth, and not his clothes, between him and the ground. She had rolled her eyes at him, but packed it anyway.

As the light faded the anticipation built. "What is everyone waiting for?" he asked, a little confused. There wasn't anything amazing happening, and after dark no one could see anything anyway, so why stay?

"You'll see," she said, and sat up.

He pouted a little, but when her grin only widened, he sat back and waited for the show.

The light continued to darken, but no lights came on, like they normally do. Even the streetlights were dimmer than usual. The band quieted down, and parents picked up small children, putting them on laps and pointing to the sky.

"Here they come!" Hermione said, her voice full of glee and excitement.

"Here what come?" And then he saw it. And then heard the boom of thunder that followed the explosion of light. "What is it? What just happened? Did a star just explode or something?"

She turned to him briefly, saw his near panic, and took pity on him. "It's better if you sit up," she said, scooting closer to him. "It's called a firework, and they set them off on some holidays, mostly just the Fourth of July."

"Why?"

She thought about it for a second, and then smiled. "I don't know why. But they're really pretty, aren't they?"

He watched another one go up, explode into reds and blues. "I'll tell you when I decide. Why do they make that noise?"

"It's the explosion. They wrap rapport, used gunpowder, and other ingredients, light it, and shoot it up into the sky. When the heat hits the stuff inside it explodes. The release of pressure is the sound, and what makes all the sparks fly apart."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, tightly. They sat in silence as a few more went off, and then he started to relax. "I guess these aren't so bad, for a Muggle invention."

She laughed, kissed his cheek. "We could bring some back with us, and set them off at home."

Now he looked skeptical. "Why?"

"Can you imagine Ron's face when he sees one?"

Draco got a look on his own, one of pure Slytherin plotting. "It would be a sight to see, wouldn't it? I wonder if he'd wet his pants."

She decided not to mention the fact that he hadn't exactly accepted them with a smile either, and just snuggled closer. "They're always better to watch with someone."

"I imagine that to be true." Silence fell between them once more, as the crowd ohh-ed and ahh-ed over the display of lights.

Well, that's another one of my little one-shots.

I was watching the fireworks with my family when the inspiration for this little piece hit me. Can you imagine Draco Malfoy, assuming he's never seen a firework, and his reaction to a whole bunch of them at the same time? Wouldn't it be laughable? And then imagine Ron, assuming the same thing. That would be even funnier.

To all my American readers: Happy Fourth!

Meako