Out to Lunch
Title: Out to Lunch
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 365
Author's notes: For hogwarts365: Caterpillar, Stripes, Slow
Summary: Harry and Draco banter over lunch.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
“There’s a caterpillar in my salad.”
Harry peered into the rainforest on Malfoy’s plate. A black worm with yellow stripes was indeed making its merry way around a cherry tomato. Harry snickered at Malfoy’s disgusted look.
“Look on the bright side,” he advised. “In a week, free butterfly.”
Malfoy mumbled something about where Harry could shove his free butterflies. His gaze flicked to the aforementioned caterpillar again, who rudely refused to disappear. Malfoy shoved the plate away, neatly nicking half of Harry’s BLT in the process.
Harry didn’t even blink. “Every single time,” he deadpanned.
“People share food on dates,” Malfoy informed him.
“This is not a date. It’s lunch with a co-worker,” Harry replied, for the hundredth time. “If it was a date, it would be our hundredth date. And I for one, expected you to put out by now.”
“Not for this cheap fare, I won’t,” Malfoy retorted. He positioned a zucchini strip in the caterpillar’s way, because he was still a complete git.
“So, what will it take?” Harry asked, with a teasing grin. “Would a pint at the Leaky Cauldron get me a quickie in the loo?”
“A hearty handshake and your paperwork mysteriously disappears over the weekend.”
“What if I went all romantic? Slow jazz, wine...all that shite.”
“You wouldn’t know passable jazz if it hit you over the head with a saxophone.”
“Hardly the point. Will it get you in bed or not?”
“I’m not a sure thing, you pig. I don’t owe you anything just because you’re taking me out to dinner.”
Ah ha!
Harry saw an opportunity and pounced. “So, we are actually going out to dinner?”
Malfoy gave him a flat look. “If I find a caterpillar in my salad, you’ll be sorry.”
Harry grinned triumphantly. It had taken four years and Merlin knows how many lunches, but he’d finally managed to ask Malfoy out. For all their guile, Slytherins could be endearingly gullible sometimes. Harry bit back a chuckle and returned to his sandwich.
“You know, Potter,” Malfoy drawled. “We could have had this conversation four years ago with the exact same results.”
Harry’s smile faded to a pout. “Shut up and eat your caterpillars.”
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 365
Author's notes: For hogwarts365: Caterpillar, Stripes, Slow
Summary: Harry and Draco banter over lunch.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
“There’s a caterpillar in my salad.”
Harry peered into the rainforest on Malfoy’s plate. A black worm with yellow stripes was indeed making its merry way around a cherry tomato. Harry snickered at Malfoy’s disgusted look.
“Look on the bright side,” he advised. “In a week, free butterfly.”
Malfoy mumbled something about where Harry could shove his free butterflies. His gaze flicked to the aforementioned caterpillar again, who rudely refused to disappear. Malfoy shoved the plate away, neatly nicking half of Harry’s BLT in the process.
Harry didn’t even blink. “Every single time,” he deadpanned.
“People share food on dates,” Malfoy informed him.
“This is not a date. It’s lunch with a co-worker,” Harry replied, for the hundredth time. “If it was a date, it would be our hundredth date. And I for one, expected you to put out by now.”
“Not for this cheap fare, I won’t,” Malfoy retorted. He positioned a zucchini strip in the caterpillar’s way, because he was still a complete git.
“So, what will it take?” Harry asked, with a teasing grin. “Would a pint at the Leaky Cauldron get me a quickie in the loo?”
“A hearty handshake and your paperwork mysteriously disappears over the weekend.”
“What if I went all romantic? Slow jazz, wine...all that shite.”
“You wouldn’t know passable jazz if it hit you over the head with a saxophone.”
“Hardly the point. Will it get you in bed or not?”
“I’m not a sure thing, you pig. I don’t owe you anything just because you’re taking me out to dinner.”
Ah ha!
Harry saw an opportunity and pounced. “So, we are actually going out to dinner?”
Malfoy gave him a flat look. “If I find a caterpillar in my salad, you’ll be sorry.”
Harry grinned triumphantly. It had taken four years and Merlin knows how many lunches, but he’d finally managed to ask Malfoy out. For all their guile, Slytherins could be endearingly gullible sometimes. Harry bit back a chuckle and returned to his sandwich.
“You know, Potter,” Malfoy drawled. “We could have had this conversation four years ago with the exact same results.”
Harry’s smile faded to a pout. “Shut up and eat your caterpillars.”