happy birthday cutie pie!
YAY!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CUTIE!
Draco would never admit that he was waiting by the window. He wasn't waiting. To say that he was waiting was to imply that he expected something to happen, that he expected someone to come by, someone with green eyes and an ugly scar. And he wasn't going to wait for Potter. He'd made that clear when Potter had decided not to spend Christmas with him this year.
Even if he was waiting, Potter would never show.
It was Christmas Eve, and Draco knew that he'd be off with his imbeciles, probably crowded into the Weasley family hut around a tacky tree. They were probably drinking some sort of foul-tasting punch and sitting around opening cheap presents. It was precisely Potter's kind of thing, and Draco was still horrified that he had been invited. As if he could ever spend Christmas with the Weasleys. His stomach twisted in disgust (and maybe a little guilt) as the entire scenario replayed itself in his mind -- the way he had yelled, the way Harry had left... It had been a stupid idea. Potter's stupid idea, and it wasn't Draco's fault that things had ended badly. Maybe in a few weeks Potter would floo him and apologise.
Still, Draco was finding it hard to stop peering through the window at the falling snow. His breath had already fogged over the pane twice, and he was about to have to wipe it off again when something moved among the white.
Draco froze, his nose pressed against the glass, and there was something funny about the way his heart seemed to jump into his throat when he saw Harry trudging through the snow, his arms filled with packages covered in ribbons and bows. Normally, Draco would have remarked on Potter's poor colour coordination and his apparent inability to wrap something without swaddling it in ribbons. He was sure that they were pathetically rewrapped gifts the Weasley's had given him anyway, and there probably wasn't a one that Draco would be even remotely interested in.
But as Potter stepped through the door, scattering gifts as he tried to set them on Draco's kitchen table, Draco decided that he didn't much care what was in the packages. He already had everything he wanted this year.
I was going to make you some girly icons but I lost my Photoshop! :o!
♥!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CUTIE!
Draco would never admit that he was waiting by the window. He wasn't waiting. To say that he was waiting was to imply that he expected something to happen, that he expected someone to come by, someone with green eyes and an ugly scar. And he wasn't going to wait for Potter. He'd made that clear when Potter had decided not to spend Christmas with him this year.
Even if he was waiting, Potter would never show.
It was Christmas Eve, and Draco knew that he'd be off with his imbeciles, probably crowded into the Weasley family hut around a tacky tree. They were probably drinking some sort of foul-tasting punch and sitting around opening cheap presents. It was precisely Potter's kind of thing, and Draco was still horrified that he had been invited. As if he could ever spend Christmas with the Weasleys. His stomach twisted in disgust (and maybe a little guilt) as the entire scenario replayed itself in his mind -- the way he had yelled, the way Harry had left... It had been a stupid idea. Potter's stupid idea, and it wasn't Draco's fault that things had ended badly. Maybe in a few weeks Potter would floo him and apologise.
Still, Draco was finding it hard to stop peering through the window at the falling snow. His breath had already fogged over the pane twice, and he was about to have to wipe it off again when something moved among the white.
Draco froze, his nose pressed against the glass, and there was something funny about the way his heart seemed to jump into his throat when he saw Harry trudging through the snow, his arms filled with packages covered in ribbons and bows. Normally, Draco would have remarked on Potter's poor colour coordination and his apparent inability to wrap something without swaddling it in ribbons. He was sure that they were pathetically rewrapped gifts the Weasley's had given him anyway, and there probably wasn't a one that Draco would be even remotely interested in.
But as Potter stepped through the door, scattering gifts as he tried to set them on Draco's kitchen table, Draco decided that he didn't much care what was in the packages. He already had everything he wanted this year.
I was going to make you some girly icons but I lost my Photoshop! :o!
♥!!!