Grand Gesture
Title: Grand Gesture
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco, Hermione
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Strong suggestion, flangst
Word count: 1050
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for:
♦ Donation gift for taradiane, in thanks for the It Gets Better charity VGift. The request was for break up/make up
♦ hd_fluff Prompt #106 - poem
Summary: Determined to win Draco back, Harry tries his hand at poetry.
"What am I going to do, Hermione?" Harry moaned into his hands.
"Find someone new?" his friend suggested weakly. Harry shot her a dark look, and Hermione threw her hands into the air and sighed. "Oh, alright," she said. "If you want to win Malfoy back, I'll help. I really don't like seeing you so unhappy."
"Thank you, Hermione," said Harry. "Draco is too proud to make this easy on me."
"You'll have to make a grand gesture to prove to him that you're sincere about wanting him back in your life," mused Hermione. Her eyes gleamed as she began to think. "What sort of things does he like?"
"Other than sex, do you mean?"
"Harry!"
Harry cracked a smile at Hermione's rosy blush. "He likes Quidditch and Thai food, chess and potions-"
"Think of something romantic," Hermione interrupted. "You're trying to woo him, remember?"
Harry's brows furrowed as he thought. "Draco likes poetry," he said at last.
"Brilliant!" cried Hermione. "Write him a heartfelt poem."
~*~
"Write him a poem," Harry muttered sarcastically to himself later that night. He was seated at the kitchen table, surrounded by wadded-up balls of paper--testament to his attempts to write Draco a sodding poem.
Harry heaved a sigh and put pen to paper to try again.
Draco, I love you
There's no one above you
I like you below me
I like when you blow me
"Oh, Godric," groaned Harry. "This sounds like it was written by an adolescent with a stiff willy."
Harry absently squeezed his stiff willy. Certain parts of him missed Draco rather more than other parts of him did. Harry's ribs didn't miss Draco's elbows in bed, for instance. Right now, however, Harry would happily endure any number of bruises, just to spoon Draco once again.
I miss you, Draco
Harry wrote the words, and his throat felt tight. He had no business trying to compose an epic poem when all he wanted to say was in those three words. If only Draco wasn't too stubborn to see him, Harry would tell him so, to his face.
Feeling sorry for himself, Harry Summoned the bottle of Ogden's he'd been saving for a special occasion. He opened it and drank straight from the bottle.
~*~
"Come on, Harry. Up you get. It's bedtime."
~*~
Harry woke up and moaned as the light assaulted his eyes through his closed lids. He remembered opening a bottle of Ogden's last night, but he didn't recall going to bed. Yet, here he was, between the sheets of his bed and wearing a pair of pyjamas. Harry rolled over to face away from the window and whimpered as his stomach lurched with the motion. He reached feebly for his glasses on the nightstand and closed his hands around a small vial instead. He brought it close to his face and struggled to focus on it. Harry uncorked the vial and sniffed. Hangover potion he realized. He downed it in one gulp and sighed in instant relief.
Harry waited a moment before sitting up. His head no longer pounded, and his stomach felt fine. He fumbled for his glasses and put them on before yawning and flinging the covers back. After using the loo, Harry trudged to the kitchen, intent on tea and toast.
Harry halted in the threshold and took his glasses off. He cleaned them with the hem of his T-shirt, then put them on again. The vision in the kitchen was still there.
"Draco?" Harry croaked.
"Hello, Harry. Are you feeling better?"
"Wh-what are you doing here?"
Draco sighed and ruffled his hair, a sure sign that he was nervous. "I came by last night to collect some of my books, only to find you passed out at the table. I put you to bed."
Harry was embarrassed to have been seen like that. "Thank you," he said quietly, wondering why Draco had bothered to stay.
"I took the liberty of reading your attempts at poetry," said Draco.
Harry's heart sank, and he felt his face heat up. If Draco was going to laugh at him, Harry hoped he would just do it and go away.
"Do you mean it?" Draco whispered, holding up the piece of paper, on which Harry had simply written I miss you, Draco.
Harry licked his dry lips and dropped his eyes. "I meant all of it," he said. "I just didn't have the ability to put it into anything resembling poetry."
"We've both had difficulty articulating our feelings," Draco muttered. His eyes were downcast, too. "For instance, I couldn't find a way to tell you I wanted to come home."
"You must have known I would have welcomed you back," said Harry. "I've missed you." He dragged a chair out and sat at the table, opposite Draco.
"I didn't know that," Draco countered, although his voice lacked any heat. "The last time we spoke, we..."
"We both said some terrible things," Harry acknowledged. "I didn't mean any of it; I was angry."
"I didn't mean it, either," admitted Draco. "You hurt me, and I wanted to hurt you back."
Harry closed his eyes and gulped. "Can you forgive me?" he asked, stretching a tentative hand across the table.
Cool, trembling fingers covered Harry's, and Draco said, "I do forgive you, and I apologize for my behavior that night."
Harry opened his eyes, and his heart clenched at the expression on Draco's face. It was both fearful and hopeful, not unlike Harry felt at the moment. He turned his hand over and linked his fingers with Draco's. "I've already forgiven you," he said. "I was trying to win you back with bad poetry."
Draco smiled. "It wasn't so terrible," he said. "I especially enjoyed the verse about oral sex."
"Oh, Merlin," groaned Harry, covering his face with his free hand.
Draco chuckled as he stood up. He tugged on Harry's hand, pulling him up to stand. "Let's go make up," he said. "Maybe I'll treat you to one of my brilliant blow jobs."
Harry's willy twitched in delight, and he rushed from the kitchen, hauling Draco in his wake on their way to the bedroom. They had a lot of making up to do.
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco, Hermione
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Strong suggestion, flangst
Word count: 1050
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for:
♦ Donation gift for taradiane, in thanks for the It Gets Better charity VGift. The request was for break up/make up
♦ hd_fluff Prompt #106 - poem
Summary: Determined to win Draco back, Harry tries his hand at poetry.
"What am I going to do, Hermione?" Harry moaned into his hands.
"Find someone new?" his friend suggested weakly. Harry shot her a dark look, and Hermione threw her hands into the air and sighed. "Oh, alright," she said. "If you want to win Malfoy back, I'll help. I really don't like seeing you so unhappy."
"Thank you, Hermione," said Harry. "Draco is too proud to make this easy on me."
"You'll have to make a grand gesture to prove to him that you're sincere about wanting him back in your life," mused Hermione. Her eyes gleamed as she began to think. "What sort of things does he like?"
"Other than sex, do you mean?"
"Harry!"
Harry cracked a smile at Hermione's rosy blush. "He likes Quidditch and Thai food, chess and potions-"
"Think of something romantic," Hermione interrupted. "You're trying to woo him, remember?"
Harry's brows furrowed as he thought. "Draco likes poetry," he said at last.
"Brilliant!" cried Hermione. "Write him a heartfelt poem."
~*~
"Write him a poem," Harry muttered sarcastically to himself later that night. He was seated at the kitchen table, surrounded by wadded-up balls of paper--testament to his attempts to write Draco a sodding poem.
Harry heaved a sigh and put pen to paper to try again.
Draco, I love you
There's no one above you
I like you below me
I like when you blow me
"Oh, Godric," groaned Harry. "This sounds like it was written by an adolescent with a stiff willy."
Harry absently squeezed his stiff willy. Certain parts of him missed Draco rather more than other parts of him did. Harry's ribs didn't miss Draco's elbows in bed, for instance. Right now, however, Harry would happily endure any number of bruises, just to spoon Draco once again.
I miss you, Draco
Harry wrote the words, and his throat felt tight. He had no business trying to compose an epic poem when all he wanted to say was in those three words. If only Draco wasn't too stubborn to see him, Harry would tell him so, to his face.
Feeling sorry for himself, Harry Summoned the bottle of Ogden's he'd been saving for a special occasion. He opened it and drank straight from the bottle.
~*~
"Come on, Harry. Up you get. It's bedtime."
~*~
Harry woke up and moaned as the light assaulted his eyes through his closed lids. He remembered opening a bottle of Ogden's last night, but he didn't recall going to bed. Yet, here he was, between the sheets of his bed and wearing a pair of pyjamas. Harry rolled over to face away from the window and whimpered as his stomach lurched with the motion. He reached feebly for his glasses on the nightstand and closed his hands around a small vial instead. He brought it close to his face and struggled to focus on it. Harry uncorked the vial and sniffed. Hangover potion he realized. He downed it in one gulp and sighed in instant relief.
Harry waited a moment before sitting up. His head no longer pounded, and his stomach felt fine. He fumbled for his glasses and put them on before yawning and flinging the covers back. After using the loo, Harry trudged to the kitchen, intent on tea and toast.
Harry halted in the threshold and took his glasses off. He cleaned them with the hem of his T-shirt, then put them on again. The vision in the kitchen was still there.
"Draco?" Harry croaked.
"Hello, Harry. Are you feeling better?"
"Wh-what are you doing here?"
Draco sighed and ruffled his hair, a sure sign that he was nervous. "I came by last night to collect some of my books, only to find you passed out at the table. I put you to bed."
Harry was embarrassed to have been seen like that. "Thank you," he said quietly, wondering why Draco had bothered to stay.
"I took the liberty of reading your attempts at poetry," said Draco.
Harry's heart sank, and he felt his face heat up. If Draco was going to laugh at him, Harry hoped he would just do it and go away.
"Do you mean it?" Draco whispered, holding up the piece of paper, on which Harry had simply written I miss you, Draco.
Harry licked his dry lips and dropped his eyes. "I meant all of it," he said. "I just didn't have the ability to put it into anything resembling poetry."
"We've both had difficulty articulating our feelings," Draco muttered. His eyes were downcast, too. "For instance, I couldn't find a way to tell you I wanted to come home."
"You must have known I would have welcomed you back," said Harry. "I've missed you." He dragged a chair out and sat at the table, opposite Draco.
"I didn't know that," Draco countered, although his voice lacked any heat. "The last time we spoke, we..."
"We both said some terrible things," Harry acknowledged. "I didn't mean any of it; I was angry."
"I didn't mean it, either," admitted Draco. "You hurt me, and I wanted to hurt you back."
Harry closed his eyes and gulped. "Can you forgive me?" he asked, stretching a tentative hand across the table.
Cool, trembling fingers covered Harry's, and Draco said, "I do forgive you, and I apologize for my behavior that night."
Harry opened his eyes, and his heart clenched at the expression on Draco's face. It was both fearful and hopeful, not unlike Harry felt at the moment. He turned his hand over and linked his fingers with Draco's. "I've already forgiven you," he said. "I was trying to win you back with bad poetry."
Draco smiled. "It wasn't so terrible," he said. "I especially enjoyed the verse about oral sex."
"Oh, Merlin," groaned Harry, covering his face with his free hand.
Draco chuckled as he stood up. He tugged on Harry's hand, pulling him up to stand. "Let's go make up," he said. "Maybe I'll treat you to one of my brilliant blow jobs."
Harry's willy twitched in delight, and he rushed from the kitchen, hauling Draco in his wake on their way to the bedroom. They had a lot of making up to do.