(no subject)
As some of you may know, two days ago it was nightfalltwen's birthday. I'm so bogged down in school that I knew I'd flop if I offered her fic for her birthday. She graciously accepted drabbles instead.
She gave me: Draco/Theo, late night scotch, personal library in either manor... Orrrr Zach/Lavender pink frilly housecoat and a miserable rainstorm
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night: two scenes from one evening
The storm rages outside, but the fire in the library's fireplace is roaring. The patter of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder provide a muted backdrop to the companionable silence. Draco appreciates that he and Theodore can simply be quiet together. So many people feel compelled to fill a room with chatter, but Theodore never does. There's nothing awkward between them; Draco always feels sure of Theodore. Besides, it's almost as if Theodore can read his mind- he deposits a glass of scotch near Draco's elbow, and Draco finally turns away from his work. He'd not even heard Theodore put his book down or pour the liquor into the glass, he was so engrossed in what he'd been writing. Theodore's hand settles on Draco's shoulder, and Draco turns his head to look up at his companion.
"Time for a break?" he asks, reaching for Theodore.
He puts his work aside. The silence doesn't always have to be merely companionable.
Sometimes Draco can read Theodore's mind, too.
~.~.~.~
Zach looks so miserable when he turns up on Lavender's doorstep, his hair plastered against his head and neck, and his clothes soaked through from the rain that is pouring from a still-ominous looking sky, that she can't find it in her to snipe at him for showing up late.
"What on earth happened to you?" she asks, her eyes wide as she quickly ushers him in.
"Didn't want to chance flying in the storm, didn't want to chance apparating this time of the month," he says with a meaningful glance toward the window, where the nearly full moon hangs barely visible behind a storm cloud. He scowls. "You need to get your fireplace connected."
He must have flooed to the Three Broomsticks and then walked up the hill. Lavender feels awful for him, even if it's an amusing sight, seeing the giant oaf dripping wet from head to toe, a hangdog look on his face.
"Get out of those wet clothes," she orders, tossing the command over her shoulder while she's already marching back to her bedroom. She doesn't have much that will fit him, she knows, but something is better than nothing.
Besides, he's an even more amusing sight in her frilly pink housecoat.
His scowl deepens when Lavender collapses in helpless giggles.
"Oi," she says, struggling to breathe. "At least it's dry."
Happy Birthday, nightfalltwen! Thank you for being such a dear friend.
She gave me: Draco/Theo, late night scotch, personal library in either manor... Orrrr Zach/Lavender pink frilly housecoat and a miserable rainstorm
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night: two scenes from one evening
The storm rages outside, but the fire in the library's fireplace is roaring. The patter of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder provide a muted backdrop to the companionable silence. Draco appreciates that he and Theodore can simply be quiet together. So many people feel compelled to fill a room with chatter, but Theodore never does. There's nothing awkward between them; Draco always feels sure of Theodore. Besides, it's almost as if Theodore can read his mind- he deposits a glass of scotch near Draco's elbow, and Draco finally turns away from his work. He'd not even heard Theodore put his book down or pour the liquor into the glass, he was so engrossed in what he'd been writing. Theodore's hand settles on Draco's shoulder, and Draco turns his head to look up at his companion.
"Time for a break?" he asks, reaching for Theodore.
He puts his work aside. The silence doesn't always have to be merely companionable.
Sometimes Draco can read Theodore's mind, too.
~.~.~.~
Zach looks so miserable when he turns up on Lavender's doorstep, his hair plastered against his head and neck, and his clothes soaked through from the rain that is pouring from a still-ominous looking sky, that she can't find it in her to snipe at him for showing up late.
"What on earth happened to you?" she asks, her eyes wide as she quickly ushers him in.
"Didn't want to chance flying in the storm, didn't want to chance apparating this time of the month," he says with a meaningful glance toward the window, where the nearly full moon hangs barely visible behind a storm cloud. He scowls. "You need to get your fireplace connected."
He must have flooed to the Three Broomsticks and then walked up the hill. Lavender feels awful for him, even if it's an amusing sight, seeing the giant oaf dripping wet from head to toe, a hangdog look on his face.
"Get out of those wet clothes," she orders, tossing the command over her shoulder while she's already marching back to her bedroom. She doesn't have much that will fit him, she knows, but something is better than nothing.
Besides, he's an even more amusing sight in her frilly pink housecoat.
His scowl deepens when Lavender collapses in helpless giggles.
"Oi," she says, struggling to breathe. "At least it's dry."
Happy Birthday, nightfalltwen! Thank you for being such a dear friend.