Meet the Hoarders
Title: Meet the Hoarders
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,200
Summary: Draco is a hoarder. Harry is no better.
Author's notes: Written for JMDC with the prompts: cheerful, spring, linen, bright.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Harry hummed cheerfully as he shook out the linens and dusted every flat surface he could find. To most people, spring cleaning was a dull chore that couldn’t be helped. But Harry saw it as the start of something new- a chance to get rid of all of last year’s clutter and start over with a bright, clean house. So he dusted and scrubbed and cleared away box after box, content in the knowledge that when this was over he and Draco would have a lot more space in their little flat.
But halfway through the clearing up, he noticed something strange.
“Huh,” Harry commented, picking up the item that had snared his attention. It was a small plastic figurine of Galvin Gudgeon, Seeker for the Chudley Cannons. Harry recognised it from a toy set Draco had ordered last year, played with exactly twice and then promptly forgotten. More importantly, Harry had thrown the set out just yesterday.
Odd.
Very odd.
His frown deepened as he took a good, long look around the flat. Now that he was paying attention, he could see that something was definitely up. Draco’s ratty, old Quidditch gloves were back in the hall closet. A mug with a broken handle had snuck its way back in the kitchen. And was that Teddy’s old toy broom? Hadn’t he thrown that out last year?
“For Merlin’s sake,” Harry groaned in dismay.
Not this again!
No, he decided abruptly. It was bad enough last year and he simply could not go through this again. This time, he was nipping it in the bud. So Harry squared his shoulders determinedly, hoisted up his mop and hollered for his boyfriend.
“Draco, I’m done in here. Do you need any help cleaning up?”
“Don’t bother,” Draco called blithely from the depths of his study. “I’m finished too.”
Harry rolled his eyes and stalked over. “Sure about that?” he called again, not even bothering to hide the challenge in his tone. He didn’t wait for a reply. If he was lucky, perhaps he could catch Draco in the act. Harry turned the knob and strode right in.
Draco turned and blinked at him, resting the broom he’d been holding against the wall. Harry scanned the study with keen eyes. It certainly...looked clean. The place had obviously been swept and dusted, the boxes that had cluttered the corners for months were gone and the rubbish Draco hoarded on a regular basis was nowhere in sight.
Interesting.
“You cleaned,” Harry commented sceptically. He could hardly be blamed for sounding suspicious.
Draco just smiled brightly, the very picture of innocence. “I told you I didn’t need help,” he said, sliding smoothly to stand in front of the closet. “All done here.”
Harry noted the subtle movement and his eyes flashed. “Of course,” he replied flatly, taking a stealthy step forward. “I didn’t doubt you for a second.”
“Good.”
“Yes.”
The silent tension rolled off in waves. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Draco held his gaze. Harry’s shoulders went back. A bead of sweat rolled down Draco’s lip.
And then they pounced.
Harry went for the closet with a blood-curdling attack cry. Draco howled and tried to shove him away. Harry was faster. He dodged Draco, wrenched the closet door open and cried out in triumph.
“Aha! I knew it!”
“You know nothing, Potter!”
“You’re hoarding again!” Harry yelled, pointing madly at the colossal, crammed closet.
“I am not!” Draco bellowed back, trying to pull Harry away from his treasure. “Those are essentials! I need every single thing in that closet!”
“Oh? Even this,” Harry paused to rummage about the mess, “splintered, old wand?”
“It was my first wand ever! Does sentiment mean nothing to you?”
“Does sentiment also apply to that rusted cauldron in the back?”
“That was the cauldron in which I brewed my first successful potion. It’s a family heirloom!”
“For the love of...can we at least get rid of this...er, what is this exactly?”
“I don’t know but it was obviously important enough for me to save, so you can’t throw it out!”
Harry gave up and threw his arms up in exasperation. “I’m just going to say it. You should be on a Muggle reality show.”
“Oh, like you don’t have your hang ups!” Draco snapped back. “I’ll bet you have tons of stuff you can’t get rid of.”
“I don’t,” Harry scoffed. “Unlike certain people, I don’t believe in hording. It’s unhealthy and...”
“Accio Harry’s box of crap!”
Harry squawked in indignation as a box did in fact, fly into the room and settle smugly at Draco’s feet. “That’s not a ‘box of crap’!” he protested hotly. “Those are sentimental keepsakes!”
“Is that right?” Draco drawled, rummaging through the box. “So what’s the fascinating story behind this charming...faucet? And on that note, really? A faucet.”
Harry snatched the faucet from him and huddled it to his chest protectively. "It’s from the bathroom where Ron, Mione and I fought the mountain troll. It’s where we first became best friends. You have to admit that’s a good one.”
“Of course. And this box of...I’m going to say snake scales?”
“Dragon scales, actually. Norbert’s first shedding.”
“Okay, ew. And what’s this?” Draco smirked as he pulled out a tattered scrap of parchment. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Pray tell, what reason could you possibly have for keeping this around? A treasure map, perhaps? Your first ever receipt for a Butterbeer? Or...”
“Actually,” Harry cut in, a small smile playing on his lips as he gazed at the parchment. “Why don’t you turn it over and see for yourself?”
Draco raised a sceptical eyebrow but complied without question. His eyes widened as he scanned the faded writing scrawled across the creased paper.
“Harry. This...this is...”
Harry's smile widened. “The letter you wrote to me after the War. You asked if...”
“...if it was too late for us to be anything but enemies,” Draco finished. His grey eyes were soft when he turned to Harry again. “And you wrote back.”
Harry wrapped an arm around him. “I’m glad I did,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Draco’s brow.
Draco smiled into the kiss, pulling him in deeper before gently breaking away. “Hold on a second,” he whispered and waved his wand.
Harry’s eyes widened as something whizzed by and flew into his hand. When he opened his palm, a small, golden Snitch was sitting there, buzzing sleepily. He grinned incredulously. “Is that...?”
“From our first date,” Draco confirmed. He wrapped his arms around Harry and rested his chin on his shoulder. “And just for the record, I know you let me win.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry protested with a laugh. Draco jostled him and tightened his hold and Harry leaned into him again, enjoying the feeling of being held as they sat together, surrounded by clutter and rubbish and an utter mess...
...all evidence of a wonderful life together. A life he couldn’t imagine without Draco in it.
“You know, maybe we don’t have to throw everything out just yet,” Harry murmured softly.
“Thank you, love. I appreciate it,” Draco said, pressing a kiss to his neck. “But in the interest of full disclosure, I think we should get rid of that box by my desk.”
“Really? Why?”
“No reason,” Draco replied with a shrug. “It’s just that I don't remember taking it out and there’s a good chance it crawled over there by itself.”
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,200
Summary: Draco is a hoarder. Harry is no better.
Author's notes: Written for JMDC with the prompts: cheerful, spring, linen, bright.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Harry hummed cheerfully as he shook out the linens and dusted every flat surface he could find. To most people, spring cleaning was a dull chore that couldn’t be helped. But Harry saw it as the start of something new- a chance to get rid of all of last year’s clutter and start over with a bright, clean house. So he dusted and scrubbed and cleared away box after box, content in the knowledge that when this was over he and Draco would have a lot more space in their little flat.
But halfway through the clearing up, he noticed something strange.
“Huh,” Harry commented, picking up the item that had snared his attention. It was a small plastic figurine of Galvin Gudgeon, Seeker for the Chudley Cannons. Harry recognised it from a toy set Draco had ordered last year, played with exactly twice and then promptly forgotten. More importantly, Harry had thrown the set out just yesterday.
Odd.
Very odd.
His frown deepened as he took a good, long look around the flat. Now that he was paying attention, he could see that something was definitely up. Draco’s ratty, old Quidditch gloves were back in the hall closet. A mug with a broken handle had snuck its way back in the kitchen. And was that Teddy’s old toy broom? Hadn’t he thrown that out last year?
“For Merlin’s sake,” Harry groaned in dismay.
Not this again!
No, he decided abruptly. It was bad enough last year and he simply could not go through this again. This time, he was nipping it in the bud. So Harry squared his shoulders determinedly, hoisted up his mop and hollered for his boyfriend.
“Draco, I’m done in here. Do you need any help cleaning up?”
“Don’t bother,” Draco called blithely from the depths of his study. “I’m finished too.”
Harry rolled his eyes and stalked over. “Sure about that?” he called again, not even bothering to hide the challenge in his tone. He didn’t wait for a reply. If he was lucky, perhaps he could catch Draco in the act. Harry turned the knob and strode right in.
Draco turned and blinked at him, resting the broom he’d been holding against the wall. Harry scanned the study with keen eyes. It certainly...looked clean. The place had obviously been swept and dusted, the boxes that had cluttered the corners for months were gone and the rubbish Draco hoarded on a regular basis was nowhere in sight.
Interesting.
“You cleaned,” Harry commented sceptically. He could hardly be blamed for sounding suspicious.
Draco just smiled brightly, the very picture of innocence. “I told you I didn’t need help,” he said, sliding smoothly to stand in front of the closet. “All done here.”
Harry noted the subtle movement and his eyes flashed. “Of course,” he replied flatly, taking a stealthy step forward. “I didn’t doubt you for a second.”
“Good.”
“Yes.”
The silent tension rolled off in waves. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Draco held his gaze. Harry’s shoulders went back. A bead of sweat rolled down Draco’s lip.
And then they pounced.
Harry went for the closet with a blood-curdling attack cry. Draco howled and tried to shove him away. Harry was faster. He dodged Draco, wrenched the closet door open and cried out in triumph.
“Aha! I knew it!”
“You know nothing, Potter!”
“You’re hoarding again!” Harry yelled, pointing madly at the colossal, crammed closet.
“I am not!” Draco bellowed back, trying to pull Harry away from his treasure. “Those are essentials! I need every single thing in that closet!”
“Oh? Even this,” Harry paused to rummage about the mess, “splintered, old wand?”
“It was my first wand ever! Does sentiment mean nothing to you?”
“Does sentiment also apply to that rusted cauldron in the back?”
“That was the cauldron in which I brewed my first successful potion. It’s a family heirloom!”
“For the love of...can we at least get rid of this...er, what is this exactly?”
“I don’t know but it was obviously important enough for me to save, so you can’t throw it out!”
Harry gave up and threw his arms up in exasperation. “I’m just going to say it. You should be on a Muggle reality show.”
“Oh, like you don’t have your hang ups!” Draco snapped back. “I’ll bet you have tons of stuff you can’t get rid of.”
“I don’t,” Harry scoffed. “Unlike certain people, I don’t believe in hording. It’s unhealthy and...”
“Accio Harry’s box of crap!”
Harry squawked in indignation as a box did in fact, fly into the room and settle smugly at Draco’s feet. “That’s not a ‘box of crap’!” he protested hotly. “Those are sentimental keepsakes!”
“Is that right?” Draco drawled, rummaging through the box. “So what’s the fascinating story behind this charming...faucet? And on that note, really? A faucet.”
Harry snatched the faucet from him and huddled it to his chest protectively. "It’s from the bathroom where Ron, Mione and I fought the mountain troll. It’s where we first became best friends. You have to admit that’s a good one.”
“Of course. And this box of...I’m going to say snake scales?”
“Dragon scales, actually. Norbert’s first shedding.”
“Okay, ew. And what’s this?” Draco smirked as he pulled out a tattered scrap of parchment. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Pray tell, what reason could you possibly have for keeping this around? A treasure map, perhaps? Your first ever receipt for a Butterbeer? Or...”
“Actually,” Harry cut in, a small smile playing on his lips as he gazed at the parchment. “Why don’t you turn it over and see for yourself?”
Draco raised a sceptical eyebrow but complied without question. His eyes widened as he scanned the faded writing scrawled across the creased paper.
“Harry. This...this is...”
Harry's smile widened. “The letter you wrote to me after the War. You asked if...”
“...if it was too late for us to be anything but enemies,” Draco finished. His grey eyes were soft when he turned to Harry again. “And you wrote back.”
Harry wrapped an arm around him. “I’m glad I did,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Draco’s brow.
Draco smiled into the kiss, pulling him in deeper before gently breaking away. “Hold on a second,” he whispered and waved his wand.
Harry’s eyes widened as something whizzed by and flew into his hand. When he opened his palm, a small, golden Snitch was sitting there, buzzing sleepily. He grinned incredulously. “Is that...?”
“From our first date,” Draco confirmed. He wrapped his arms around Harry and rested his chin on his shoulder. “And just for the record, I know you let me win.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry protested with a laugh. Draco jostled him and tightened his hold and Harry leaned into him again, enjoying the feeling of being held as they sat together, surrounded by clutter and rubbish and an utter mess...
...all evidence of a wonderful life together. A life he couldn’t imagine without Draco in it.
“You know, maybe we don’t have to throw everything out just yet,” Harry murmured softly.
“Thank you, love. I appreciate it,” Draco said, pressing a kiss to his neck. “But in the interest of full disclosure, I think we should get rid of that box by my desk.”
“Really? Why?”
“No reason,” Draco replied with a shrug. “It’s just that I don't remember taking it out and there’s a good chance it crawled over there by itself.”