Writing game drabbles - and the new board, oh the new board...
Only managed two (unrelated) Harry/Draco drabbles this week for writing_game. It's been fun playing with a new pairing. I'll get the hang of it, I'm sure.
Draco sits on the sofa in front of the fireplace, staring at a detail of the carved stone with a vacant look in his eyes. He's been sitting here for an hour, and hasn't uttered a single word.
Harry hasn't spoken either. He has never been very good with words, anyway. And what could he say, really? "I'm sorry your father died?" He has said it already. Besides, it's not as if he had loads of fond memories of Lucius that he could share with Draco.
So he comes and sits next to Draco, and gently puts his hand over his. Draco still doesn't talk, but he leans towards Harry a bit.
o ~ O ~ o
Leaning forward, arms resting over the waist-high fence, Draco absently watches as Harry tries to demonstrate his meagre talents for roller-skating. Finally, Draco straightens, goes round the fence, through the gate, and walks to almost the same place he was before, only leaning back on the fence this time. He smirks when Harry rolls nearer.
“Do you want to try?” Harry asks, hesitating.
“No, thanks.”
“Do you like watching, then?”
Draco hesitates. He is all in favour of leisurely observing Harry, but his clumsiness on these roller-thingies isn’t exactly what he finds appealing. On the other hand, saying this out loud would probably rouse the dark-haired boy’s famous Gryffindor’s temper. He settles for a noncommittal shrug.
“So what? How come that each time I’m practising, you turn up, sooner or later?” insists Harry.
Draco smiles enigmatically, and raises to his full height. Closing the distance between him and Harry, he cautiously manoeuvres him, until Harry is backed against the fence. Carefully positioning his feet so as to block Harry’s, Draco leans forward, and whispers in Harry’s ear “…ever noticed that when you’re up on those, we are the same height?”
He doesn’t wait for Harry’s answer before he kisses him.
Also posting older drabbles written for the game - the beginning of a story I haven't managed to write (yet). HP (Past times)
The theatre was still quite in an uproar the morning after, and I'm sorry to report that my employer failed to notice that day how I, Basil Foy, endeavoured by my hard and diligent work to spare him as much trouble as I possibly could.
So much was to be done! Owls were flying in at an alarming rate, people were hustled at the door, asking for a refund after the fiasco of yesterday's performance - out of the question of course, but the brave people of Painswick seemed to fail hearing that, no matter how many times we said it - and there were auditions to be scheduled at once…
Anyway, I was trying to concentrate on my writing when I heard the distinct rustling of a dress at the other end of the room.
A nice figure the girl had, and, had she turned up any other day, I would have been more than happy to waste my time in her company. But today wasn't the day, and I was preparing to let her know that exactly, when I noticed that despite her quick and resolute step, the young woman was approaching me with tears running freely on her cheeks.
o ~ O ~ o
She paused for a moment, turned her back to me, and presumably dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. I let her a minute or three to regain her composure, but I couldn't afford to wait longer, not with everything that I had to see to before lunch. Clearing my throat, I finally asked her the questions that could wait no longer. "Morning, Miss. How can I help you?"
I saw her stand straighter, and she slowly turned back to face me again. Her eyes were red, but her mouth was set. "I'm here to see the director."
"I'm afraid he is quite busy this morning, Miss. May I ask you what you did want to see him about?"
She hesitated, then, looking at me straight in the eye, she explained. "Maybe I should have started by telling you who I am. My name is Natalie. Natalie Rastrick."
Natalie. His daughter!
A new board has just been posted for this week's game. Have a look, it's beautiful. Actually, beautiful is far from doing it justice. It's WOW! (And as you can see, no need to write dozens of drabbles to play. To win, it may help though.) Did I mention this week's game includes a Love Songs Table? It does, really.
Draco sits on the sofa in front of the fireplace, staring at a detail of the carved stone with a vacant look in his eyes. He's been sitting here for an hour, and hasn't uttered a single word.
Harry hasn't spoken either. He has never been very good with words, anyway. And what could he say, really? "I'm sorry your father died?" He has said it already. Besides, it's not as if he had loads of fond memories of Lucius that he could share with Draco.
So he comes and sits next to Draco, and gently puts his hand over his. Draco still doesn't talk, but he leans towards Harry a bit.
o ~ O ~ o
Leaning forward, arms resting over the waist-high fence, Draco absently watches as Harry tries to demonstrate his meagre talents for roller-skating. Finally, Draco straightens, goes round the fence, through the gate, and walks to almost the same place he was before, only leaning back on the fence this time. He smirks when Harry rolls nearer.
“Do you want to try?” Harry asks, hesitating.
“No, thanks.”
“Do you like watching, then?”
Draco hesitates. He is all in favour of leisurely observing Harry, but his clumsiness on these roller-thingies isn’t exactly what he finds appealing. On the other hand, saying this out loud would probably rouse the dark-haired boy’s famous Gryffindor’s temper. He settles for a noncommittal shrug.
“So what? How come that each time I’m practising, you turn up, sooner or later?” insists Harry.
Draco smiles enigmatically, and raises to his full height. Closing the distance between him and Harry, he cautiously manoeuvres him, until Harry is backed against the fence. Carefully positioning his feet so as to block Harry’s, Draco leans forward, and whispers in Harry’s ear “…ever noticed that when you’re up on those, we are the same height?”
He doesn’t wait for Harry’s answer before he kisses him.
Also posting older drabbles written for the game - the beginning of a story I haven't managed to write (yet). HP (Past times)
The theatre was still quite in an uproar the morning after, and I'm sorry to report that my employer failed to notice that day how I, Basil Foy, endeavoured by my hard and diligent work to spare him as much trouble as I possibly could.
So much was to be done! Owls were flying in at an alarming rate, people were hustled at the door, asking for a refund after the fiasco of yesterday's performance - out of the question of course, but the brave people of Painswick seemed to fail hearing that, no matter how many times we said it - and there were auditions to be scheduled at once…
Anyway, I was trying to concentrate on my writing when I heard the distinct rustling of a dress at the other end of the room.
A nice figure the girl had, and, had she turned up any other day, I would have been more than happy to waste my time in her company. But today wasn't the day, and I was preparing to let her know that exactly, when I noticed that despite her quick and resolute step, the young woman was approaching me with tears running freely on her cheeks.
o ~ O ~ o
She paused for a moment, turned her back to me, and presumably dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. I let her a minute or three to regain her composure, but I couldn't afford to wait longer, not with everything that I had to see to before lunch. Clearing my throat, I finally asked her the questions that could wait no longer. "Morning, Miss. How can I help you?"
I saw her stand straighter, and she slowly turned back to face me again. Her eyes were red, but her mouth was set. "I'm here to see the director."
"I'm afraid he is quite busy this morning, Miss. May I ask you what you did want to see him about?"
She hesitated, then, looking at me straight in the eye, she explained. "Maybe I should have started by telling you who I am. My name is Natalie. Natalie Rastrick."
Natalie. His daughter!
A new board has just been posted for this week's game. Have a look, it's beautiful. Actually, beautiful is far from doing it justice. It's WOW! (And as you can see, no need to write dozens of drabbles to play. To win, it may help though.) Did I mention this week's game includes a Love Songs Table? It does, really.