HPDrizzle Fest 2020: The Locus of the Fracas
Title: The Locus of the Fracas
Author/Artist: enchanted_jae
Prompt: # 12: It's icy out, and two people who wouldn't normally be hanging onto each other have to do so to avoid falling on their faces.
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1,810
Rating: R
Warning(s): Foul language
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: All the kudos to the sweet sw33tch3rrypi3 for looking this one over.
Summary: Harry is assigned community payback, and it's all Malfoy's fault.
Harry scowled and tugged his bobble hat down as far as he could while still being able to see. It didn't help much; it was bloody cold out, and Harry didn't have a wand. Per the stipulations of his community payback, he was not allowed to use magic.
Harry aimed a glare at Draco Malfoy, only to see him glaring right back. For some reason, that only irked Harry more. "This is your fault," he growled.
"How dare you blame me for this, you impertinent slag?!"
"You started it!" Harry hollered, belatedly realizing how childish that made him sound. He didn't care. This truly was Malfoy's fault.
After a contentious Quidditch match between Harry's Arrows and Malfoy's Falcons, both teams had ended up at the same pub. The staff had wisely seated them as far apart as possible, but Harry and Malfoy had ended up at the bar at the same time. Glares had turned to accusations of cheating, which escalated to shouted insults and culminated in punches being thrown. In moments, both teams joined in, touching off an epic melee. Other patrons waded into the fray, and the brawl spilled out onto the street. It wasn't until the DMLE arrived that order was restored.
Members of both teams ended up spending the night in the Ministry's holding cells, and each of them was ordered to pay a hefty fine. Harry and Malfoy had been singled out, however, when it became clear that they'd been the locus of the fracas. The Minister of Magic himself had sentenced them to community payback. Harry couldn't believe Kingsley would treat him so rudely, but no amount of wheedling and offers of restitution for damage could sway the Minister.
As a result, Harry was shivering outside of Hogsmeade, armed only with a garbage grabber and a sack for refuse. He and Malfoy had been tasked with cleaning up any rubbish along the road leading from the village to Hogwarts. It was just Harry's luck that there had been freezing precipitation the night before. Everything was now coated with a thin layer of ice.
"I did not start anything," snapped Malfoy, recalling Harry to their argument. "I simply approached the bar to order a round of pints for my mates, when you had to come up and start whinging about how I cheated to catch the Snitch."
"You did cheat!"
"How in the bloody hell was I cheating?!"
"Your trousers were too tight!" Harry accused without thinking. Immediately, he wished the words back. Now that Malfoy knew he'd been ogling his arse, Harry would never hear the end of it.
Malfoy's eyebrows disappeared beneath the edge of his hat--a fedora-shaped creation that appeared both warm and elegant. He opened his mouth, but Harry wasn't about to wait around to hear what emerged from Malfoy's rude gob. He gripped his grabber, turned his back on Malfoy, and stepped onto the road.
Harry's foot slipped. His free arm windmilled as he attempted to remain upright, but it was a lost cause. Harry fell, his hip taking the brunt of the landing.
Malfoy brayed like the jackass he was. "How much did you drink last night, Potter? You seem to still be feeling the effects."
"Piss off," snapped Harry. He used his grabber as leverage to clamber back to his feet. Harry wobbled precariously. It felt as if any sudden movement on his part would result in another inglorious fall.
Still chortling, Malfoy strode forward. His feet went in different directions, and he ended up on the cobbles far faster than Harry had.
Harry doubled over with laughter. Ah, it was good to see his nemesis sprawled on the ground. Harry's cock jerked, as if eager to get a look at Malfoy, too. Harry sobered quickly and cleared his throat. "Okay there, Malfoy?"
"Go fuck yourself," snarled Malfoy. He got to his knees, which also caused a commotion in Harry's pants, then rose gingerly to his feet.
"I reckon we both need to be more careful," Harry remarked. His hip still ached, and he didn't fancy falling down again. He took a cautious step and then another while Malfoy was only just regaining his feet. There was a scrap of parchment beside the road, and Harry stabbed it with his grabber. Pleased with his victory, he brought the piece of rubbish to his bag, which he pivoted to reach. The movement caused Harry to lose his footing again. He yelped, flapped about, dropped his grabber and latched onto Malfoy for support.
"Unhand me, you Squib!"
Harry felt himself falling, which caused him to tighten his grip on Malfoy. He didn't mean to land on his rival, although it was far better than landing on the hard cobbles again.
"Geroff, you clumsy cunt!" yelled Malfoy. He shoved at Harry and scrabbled to his knees.
Harry couldn't help but notice that there was a tear in Malfoy's trousers, above his left knee. He hoped Malfoy wouldn't notice, otherwise there-
"My trousers!" cried Malfoy. "Now look at what you've done!"
"A simple spell will fix that," said Harry.
"I had to surrender my wand," Malfoy bit out.
Harry shrugged from where he sat on the cold cobbles. "Fix them later," he said. He turned onto his uninjured hip and climbed slowly to his feet. Harry's right foot slipped and he pitched forward, catching himself on his hands. It was painful, and he swore under his breath.
Malfoy snickered from where he was still kneeling on the icy road. "Practicing for the Ice Capades, Potter?"
"Shut your gob," growled Harry. He managed to stand up straight, but he was reluctant to move for fear of slipping once more.
"Give me a hand up," said Malfoy.
Harry's eyes widened in astonishment. "You're barking mad," he declared. "If I try to help you, I'll likely end up on my arse again."
Malfoy muttered unkind things and cautiously put one foot on the cobbles. He attempted to push off from it and stand, but his foot skidded. He cried out and flailed, snagging Harry's coat as he fell and dragging Harry down with him.
"Bloody fucking hell, Malfoy!" Harry was half lying underneath his rival, hip and shoulder throbbing from where he'd made contact with the road again. As Malfoy floundered atop him, another part of Harry's body began to throb.
"Geroff!" he snarled, trying to push Malfoy off of himself while at the same time attempting to wriggle out from under him.
"Stop squirming!" cried Malfoy. Had his voice risen an octave? Malfoy succeeded in rolling away from Harry, but neither of them attempted to move further.
After a long moment spent on the cold ground, Harry sat up and rubbed his sore shoulder. "This is absurd," he muttered. "How are we to clean up the roadside if we can't even stand, let alone walk?"
"You could crawl."
"Piss off," Harry grumped. However, Malfoy's sarcastic suggestion was not without merit. Harry swallowed his pride and crawled to the side of the road, where the icy grass wasn't nearly as slick as the icy cobbles. He stood up, wincing as his abused hip protested.
Malfoy glared at him from where he sat in the middle of the road. He located his hat and jammed it back on his head. "What about me?"
Harry smirked at him. "Crawl."
Malfoy's lip curled in a sneer. "Piss off."
"What was that?" taunted Harry. "I can't hear you all the way up here."
Malfoy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like cunt and followed Harry's example by crawling to the side of the road.
"How the mighty have fallen," simpered Harry. "I wish I had a camera. Too bad there's nothing that will let me relive this memory over and over. Oh, wait-"
"Shut your willie washer," growled Malfoy. He'd arrived at the relative safety of the grass, where he levered himself upright once more.
Harry couldn't help but think Malfoy looked adorable, all rumpled and irate, like an angry cat. He laughed, the happy sound turning to a squawk of dismay when Malfoy shoved him onto the road again. Harry's feet slipped. His arms swung, and he tried to grab at something, anything, to prevent another painful fall. His hand latched onto Malfoy's sleeve.
It was Malfoy's turn to yelp when Harry fell and dragged him down to the cobbles. They landed in a heap, cursing and punching one another. Harry ended up on top of Malfoy, sides heaving as he panted for breath, specs lost somewhere on the road, and sporting wood. He was too tired to fight any longer, and it seemed Malfoy agreed. He lay unmoving, eyes closed and breathing hard. Speaking of hard...
Harry reluctantly rolled off of Malfoy to collapse next to him on the road. He chuckled weakly. "Some professional athletes we are," he muttered. "Rolling on the ground, rucking like firsties, although I don't think it would have made me randy at age eleven."
"I'm topping."
Harry couldn't possibly have heard Malfoy correctly. He carefully sat upright and fumbled about for his glasses. Finding them, Harry settled the specs on the bridge of his nose and peered closely at Malfoy. "What did you say?"
Malfoy didn't move. "This is bloody ridiculous," he grumbled. "I'm cold and randy, and I'm going home to rub one out, unless you'd like to join me."
Harry's semi-interested cock twitched and lengthened into full-on interest. "I'd, erm, love to join you, but we're somewhat stuck here. No wands, remember?"
Malfoy opened his eyes and smirked. "That's what you think," he said. He sat up and pulled a wand out of his sleeve.
Harry's mouth fell open in surprise. "Malfoy! That's..." He'd been about to say cheating, but arguing over that particular subject is what had landed them in their current predicament. "I thought you had to surrender your wand."
"This is a spare," said Malfoy.
"Huh," Harry grunted. "How very..." He didn't want to say clever. "Slytherin of you," he finished, impressed in spite of himself.
Malfoy responded with a smug grin. His conceit abated somewhat as he was forced to crawl back to the grass again. Harry followed suit, and they were soon upright and facing one another.
"What do you say, Potter? Do you plan to offer up your arse, or would you like to stay here and pick up rubbish?"
"I get to top the next time," Harry bargained.
"Fine," agreed Malfoy. He extended his arm. "Let's go."
"Wait," said Harry. "We don't want to get in more trouble by skiving off. Can't you use your wand to clean up the roadside?"
Malfoy sniffed. "I picked up my share of trash," he insisted, looping their arms together and spinning them in place.
Before he felt the wrench of Apparation, Harry could have sworn he heard Malfoy say, "I picked up you, didn't I?"
Author/Artist: enchanted_jae
Prompt: # 12: It's icy out, and two people who wouldn't normally be hanging onto each other have to do so to avoid falling on their faces.
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1,810
Rating: R
Warning(s): Foul language
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: All the kudos to the sweet sw33tch3rrypi3 for looking this one over.
Summary: Harry is assigned community payback, and it's all Malfoy's fault.
Harry scowled and tugged his bobble hat down as far as he could while still being able to see. It didn't help much; it was bloody cold out, and Harry didn't have a wand. Per the stipulations of his community payback, he was not allowed to use magic.
Harry aimed a glare at Draco Malfoy, only to see him glaring right back. For some reason, that only irked Harry more. "This is your fault," he growled.
"How dare you blame me for this, you impertinent slag?!"
"You started it!" Harry hollered, belatedly realizing how childish that made him sound. He didn't care. This truly was Malfoy's fault.
After a contentious Quidditch match between Harry's Arrows and Malfoy's Falcons, both teams had ended up at the same pub. The staff had wisely seated them as far apart as possible, but Harry and Malfoy had ended up at the bar at the same time. Glares had turned to accusations of cheating, which escalated to shouted insults and culminated in punches being thrown. In moments, both teams joined in, touching off an epic melee. Other patrons waded into the fray, and the brawl spilled out onto the street. It wasn't until the DMLE arrived that order was restored.
Members of both teams ended up spending the night in the Ministry's holding cells, and each of them was ordered to pay a hefty fine. Harry and Malfoy had been singled out, however, when it became clear that they'd been the locus of the fracas. The Minister of Magic himself had sentenced them to community payback. Harry couldn't believe Kingsley would treat him so rudely, but no amount of wheedling and offers of restitution for damage could sway the Minister.
As a result, Harry was shivering outside of Hogsmeade, armed only with a garbage grabber and a sack for refuse. He and Malfoy had been tasked with cleaning up any rubbish along the road leading from the village to Hogwarts. It was just Harry's luck that there had been freezing precipitation the night before. Everything was now coated with a thin layer of ice.
"I did not start anything," snapped Malfoy, recalling Harry to their argument. "I simply approached the bar to order a round of pints for my mates, when you had to come up and start whinging about how I cheated to catch the Snitch."
"You did cheat!"
"How in the bloody hell was I cheating?!"
"Your trousers were too tight!" Harry accused without thinking. Immediately, he wished the words back. Now that Malfoy knew he'd been ogling his arse, Harry would never hear the end of it.
Malfoy's eyebrows disappeared beneath the edge of his hat--a fedora-shaped creation that appeared both warm and elegant. He opened his mouth, but Harry wasn't about to wait around to hear what emerged from Malfoy's rude gob. He gripped his grabber, turned his back on Malfoy, and stepped onto the road.
Harry's foot slipped. His free arm windmilled as he attempted to remain upright, but it was a lost cause. Harry fell, his hip taking the brunt of the landing.
Malfoy brayed like the jackass he was. "How much did you drink last night, Potter? You seem to still be feeling the effects."
"Piss off," snapped Harry. He used his grabber as leverage to clamber back to his feet. Harry wobbled precariously. It felt as if any sudden movement on his part would result in another inglorious fall.
Still chortling, Malfoy strode forward. His feet went in different directions, and he ended up on the cobbles far faster than Harry had.
Harry doubled over with laughter. Ah, it was good to see his nemesis sprawled on the ground. Harry's cock jerked, as if eager to get a look at Malfoy, too. Harry sobered quickly and cleared his throat. "Okay there, Malfoy?"
"Go fuck yourself," snarled Malfoy. He got to his knees, which also caused a commotion in Harry's pants, then rose gingerly to his feet.
"I reckon we both need to be more careful," Harry remarked. His hip still ached, and he didn't fancy falling down again. He took a cautious step and then another while Malfoy was only just regaining his feet. There was a scrap of parchment beside the road, and Harry stabbed it with his grabber. Pleased with his victory, he brought the piece of rubbish to his bag, which he pivoted to reach. The movement caused Harry to lose his footing again. He yelped, flapped about, dropped his grabber and latched onto Malfoy for support.
"Unhand me, you Squib!"
Harry felt himself falling, which caused him to tighten his grip on Malfoy. He didn't mean to land on his rival, although it was far better than landing on the hard cobbles again.
"Geroff, you clumsy cunt!" yelled Malfoy. He shoved at Harry and scrabbled to his knees.
Harry couldn't help but notice that there was a tear in Malfoy's trousers, above his left knee. He hoped Malfoy wouldn't notice, otherwise there-
"My trousers!" cried Malfoy. "Now look at what you've done!"
"A simple spell will fix that," said Harry.
"I had to surrender my wand," Malfoy bit out.
Harry shrugged from where he sat on the cold cobbles. "Fix them later," he said. He turned onto his uninjured hip and climbed slowly to his feet. Harry's right foot slipped and he pitched forward, catching himself on his hands. It was painful, and he swore under his breath.
Malfoy snickered from where he was still kneeling on the icy road. "Practicing for the Ice Capades, Potter?"
"Shut your gob," growled Harry. He managed to stand up straight, but he was reluctant to move for fear of slipping once more.
"Give me a hand up," said Malfoy.
Harry's eyes widened in astonishment. "You're barking mad," he declared. "If I try to help you, I'll likely end up on my arse again."
Malfoy muttered unkind things and cautiously put one foot on the cobbles. He attempted to push off from it and stand, but his foot skidded. He cried out and flailed, snagging Harry's coat as he fell and dragging Harry down with him.
"Bloody fucking hell, Malfoy!" Harry was half lying underneath his rival, hip and shoulder throbbing from where he'd made contact with the road again. As Malfoy floundered atop him, another part of Harry's body began to throb.
"Geroff!" he snarled, trying to push Malfoy off of himself while at the same time attempting to wriggle out from under him.
"Stop squirming!" cried Malfoy. Had his voice risen an octave? Malfoy succeeded in rolling away from Harry, but neither of them attempted to move further.
After a long moment spent on the cold ground, Harry sat up and rubbed his sore shoulder. "This is absurd," he muttered. "How are we to clean up the roadside if we can't even stand, let alone walk?"
"You could crawl."
"Piss off," Harry grumped. However, Malfoy's sarcastic suggestion was not without merit. Harry swallowed his pride and crawled to the side of the road, where the icy grass wasn't nearly as slick as the icy cobbles. He stood up, wincing as his abused hip protested.
Malfoy glared at him from where he sat in the middle of the road. He located his hat and jammed it back on his head. "What about me?"
Harry smirked at him. "Crawl."
Malfoy's lip curled in a sneer. "Piss off."
"What was that?" taunted Harry. "I can't hear you all the way up here."
Malfoy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like cunt and followed Harry's example by crawling to the side of the road.
"How the mighty have fallen," simpered Harry. "I wish I had a camera. Too bad there's nothing that will let me relive this memory over and over. Oh, wait-"
"Shut your willie washer," growled Malfoy. He'd arrived at the relative safety of the grass, where he levered himself upright once more.
Harry couldn't help but think Malfoy looked adorable, all rumpled and irate, like an angry cat. He laughed, the happy sound turning to a squawk of dismay when Malfoy shoved him onto the road again. Harry's feet slipped. His arms swung, and he tried to grab at something, anything, to prevent another painful fall. His hand latched onto Malfoy's sleeve.
It was Malfoy's turn to yelp when Harry fell and dragged him down to the cobbles. They landed in a heap, cursing and punching one another. Harry ended up on top of Malfoy, sides heaving as he panted for breath, specs lost somewhere on the road, and sporting wood. He was too tired to fight any longer, and it seemed Malfoy agreed. He lay unmoving, eyes closed and breathing hard. Speaking of hard...
Harry reluctantly rolled off of Malfoy to collapse next to him on the road. He chuckled weakly. "Some professional athletes we are," he muttered. "Rolling on the ground, rucking like firsties, although I don't think it would have made me randy at age eleven."
"I'm topping."
Harry couldn't possibly have heard Malfoy correctly. He carefully sat upright and fumbled about for his glasses. Finding them, Harry settled the specs on the bridge of his nose and peered closely at Malfoy. "What did you say?"
Malfoy didn't move. "This is bloody ridiculous," he grumbled. "I'm cold and randy, and I'm going home to rub one out, unless you'd like to join me."
Harry's semi-interested cock twitched and lengthened into full-on interest. "I'd, erm, love to join you, but we're somewhat stuck here. No wands, remember?"
Malfoy opened his eyes and smirked. "That's what you think," he said. He sat up and pulled a wand out of his sleeve.
Harry's mouth fell open in surprise. "Malfoy! That's..." He'd been about to say cheating, but arguing over that particular subject is what had landed them in their current predicament. "I thought you had to surrender your wand."
"This is a spare," said Malfoy.
"Huh," Harry grunted. "How very..." He didn't want to say clever. "Slytherin of you," he finished, impressed in spite of himself.
Malfoy responded with a smug grin. His conceit abated somewhat as he was forced to crawl back to the grass again. Harry followed suit, and they were soon upright and facing one another.
"What do you say, Potter? Do you plan to offer up your arse, or would you like to stay here and pick up rubbish?"
"I get to top the next time," Harry bargained.
"Fine," agreed Malfoy. He extended his arm. "Let's go."
"Wait," said Harry. "We don't want to get in more trouble by skiving off. Can't you use your wand to clean up the roadside?"
Malfoy sniffed. "I picked up my share of trash," he insisted, looping their arms together and spinning them in place.
Before he felt the wrench of Apparation, Harry could have sworn he heard Malfoy say, "I picked up you, didn't I?"