another almost drabble
Fuck you and your untouchable face.
Fuck you for existing in the first place.
And who am I that I should be vying for your touch?
Say who am I? I bet you can’t even tell me that much.
- Ani Difranco
“Malfoy,” Harry greeted, nodding politely, keeping an unconsciously possessive hand on the pregnant Weasley girl’s hip. Draco tried not to notice the laugh lines that had appeared around Harry’s mouth and eyes.
“Potter,” Draco returned, oblivious to the music, the dancing couples all around them. Oh, how he wanted to hate him, but at some point during the war, between all night strategy sessions and long, loneliness induced, conversations, that had become impossible. “I had heard that you married. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Harry beamed. Fuck him. “We’re expecting.” As if it weren’t obvious.
“Let me buy you a celebratory drink,” Draco offered. Pathetic.
“Ginny can’t drink,” Harry told him, apologetically, his hand tightening on her hip.
“Just us,” Draco suggested. “I’m certain Ms. Weasley wouldn’t begrudge us the chance to become reacquainted.”
“Potter,” Harry corrected him, smiling.
“Of course.”
This is the song. I can't believe I actually wrote a songfic. *goes off to drown self*
(sorry. i fixed the link. it really will take you to the song, now.)
Fuck you for existing in the first place.
And who am I that I should be vying for your touch?
Say who am I? I bet you can’t even tell me that much.
- Ani Difranco
“Malfoy,” Harry greeted, nodding politely, keeping an unconsciously possessive hand on the pregnant Weasley girl’s hip. Draco tried not to notice the laugh lines that had appeared around Harry’s mouth and eyes.
“Potter,” Draco returned, oblivious to the music, the dancing couples all around them. Oh, how he wanted to hate him, but at some point during the war, between all night strategy sessions and long, loneliness induced, conversations, that had become impossible. “I had heard that you married. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Harry beamed. Fuck him. “We’re expecting.” As if it weren’t obvious.
“Let me buy you a celebratory drink,” Draco offered. Pathetic.
“Ginny can’t drink,” Harry told him, apologetically, his hand tightening on her hip.
“Just us,” Draco suggested. “I’m certain Ms. Weasley wouldn’t begrudge us the chance to become reacquainted.”
“Potter,” Harry corrected him, smiling.
“Of course.”
This is the song. I can't believe I actually wrote a songfic. *goes off to drown self*
(sorry. i fixed the link. it really will take you to the song, now.)