september 4.0, fic: ham and strings on me
Title: ham and strings on me ao3 dw
Rating: pg-13
Pairing(s)/Characters: draco malfoy, harry potter, friends
Word Count/ Art Medium: 558
Warnings (if any): n/a
Disclaimer: i own nothing.
Summary: Draco watches Potter make sandwiches for seven years. It takes him nearly seven of those years to work out that Potter is a pawn in a chess game. ( And more importantly so is he.)
Ham. Cheese. Lettuce. Cucumber if he fancies it. Glares until the best bread is in Draco's hands. Then he watches.
Potter eats in a strange way. Draco has been watching him for years and has silenced those smart enough to question him, like Pansy, by stating that it is his job. It is not. Not officially. Not yet. (He never wants it to be.)
Still.
He watches as Potter watches everyone else grab their lunch desires. He watches as miniature standoffs occur over rolls and types of loaves. More importantly, Draco watches as Harry Potter picks up what is left. Of everything. And simply eats his sandwich unless Hermione Granger forces him to eat more.
Days. Weeks. Terms. Years. ( No one asked Pansy. Merlin's sake.)
Potter hardly eats and when he does it is after everyone else. Ends of loaves. Shrivelled lettuce. Knobs of cheese that Granger forces on him. It is what everyone else leaves. And that just doesn't seem...well, right. Frankly it does not seem to make sense with anything Draco has been told. (Ever.)
(Not anything he has wanted to listen to anyway.)
Bread. Apple. Something green that Draco cannot identify from three tables away and Potter has a sandwich. Draco stares. And glowers. And stabs his own potatoes and meat harshly as Pansy stares at him in turn.
Granger fills her plate with vegetables and meats and beans. Weasley...well Weasley eats but Potter makes his small sandwiches after everyone is done. Does he not know the damage he does to his own magic? Does he not care?
In the morning he eats toast and nothing else. His owl is gifted the flakes Draco is informed come from the Mudbloods. Cornflakes. And he will deny any rumours that they are decent and fill better till lunch than toast.
Potter though.
Merlin, sometimes the owl is the one who eats bacon and not the master. It makes Draco want to rise from his feet and punch the likes of Longbottom and such who should know better.
For Draco it used to be easy to think he just does not care and that Potter thinks himself above needing to harness and nurture his magic and that of his family. Pansy's scowls made him think. Even Goyle questioned Potter's performance. The idea that no one has told him of his Noble and Ancient line and what it all means is far more disturbing. (But at sixteen and marked Draco has too much to concern himself with.)
Potter looks weaker and angrier but his lunch looks better. Draco neither knows not cares. (He feels like he is dying himself). Lunch feels odd. Weird. Paranoid. That is until Crabbe points out that Draco is now the one being watched.
He doesn't know what that means.
He doesn't care what that means.
He does not have the time for meals. He grabs.
Leftovers when he begins to think of it. And that is when Draco understands. No one notices when Draco comes to lunch late and makes his sandwich, of left over ham and knobs of cheese, and leaves and that is when Draco thinks he might understand Harry Potter. (Really.)
It is also when he realises that he is on the wrong side.
(And Potter knew the game from before Draco knew he was pawn on the board.)
17/sam/claw
Rating: pg-13
Pairing(s)/Characters: draco malfoy, harry potter, friends
Word Count/ Art Medium: 558
Warnings (if any): n/a
Disclaimer: i own nothing.
Summary: Draco watches Potter make sandwiches for seven years. It takes him nearly seven of those years to work out that Potter is a pawn in a chess game. ( And more importantly so is he.)
Ham. Cheese. Lettuce. Cucumber if he fancies it. Glares until the best bread is in Draco's hands. Then he watches.
Potter eats in a strange way. Draco has been watching him for years and has silenced those smart enough to question him, like Pansy, by stating that it is his job. It is not. Not officially. Not yet. (He never wants it to be.)
Still.
He watches as Potter watches everyone else grab their lunch desires. He watches as miniature standoffs occur over rolls and types of loaves. More importantly, Draco watches as Harry Potter picks up what is left. Of everything. And simply eats his sandwich unless Hermione Granger forces him to eat more.
Days. Weeks. Terms. Years. ( No one asked Pansy. Merlin's sake.)
Potter hardly eats and when he does it is after everyone else. Ends of loaves. Shrivelled lettuce. Knobs of cheese that Granger forces on him. It is what everyone else leaves. And that just doesn't seem...well, right. Frankly it does not seem to make sense with anything Draco has been told. (Ever.)
(Not anything he has wanted to listen to anyway.)
Bread. Apple. Something green that Draco cannot identify from three tables away and Potter has a sandwich. Draco stares. And glowers. And stabs his own potatoes and meat harshly as Pansy stares at him in turn.
Granger fills her plate with vegetables and meats and beans. Weasley...well Weasley eats but Potter makes his small sandwiches after everyone is done. Does he not know the damage he does to his own magic? Does he not care?
In the morning he eats toast and nothing else. His owl is gifted the flakes Draco is informed come from the Mudbloods. Cornflakes. And he will deny any rumours that they are decent and fill better till lunch than toast.
Potter though.
Merlin, sometimes the owl is the one who eats bacon and not the master. It makes Draco want to rise from his feet and punch the likes of Longbottom and such who should know better.
For Draco it used to be easy to think he just does not care and that Potter thinks himself above needing to harness and nurture his magic and that of his family. Pansy's scowls made him think. Even Goyle questioned Potter's performance. The idea that no one has told him of his Noble and Ancient line and what it all means is far more disturbing. (But at sixteen and marked Draco has too much to concern himself with.)
Potter looks weaker and angrier but his lunch looks better. Draco neither knows not cares. (He feels like he is dying himself). Lunch feels odd. Weird. Paranoid. That is until Crabbe points out that Draco is now the one being watched.
He doesn't know what that means.
He doesn't care what that means.
He does not have the time for meals. He grabs.
Leftovers when he begins to think of it. And that is when Draco understands. No one notices when Draco comes to lunch late and makes his sandwich, of left over ham and knobs of cheese, and leaves and that is when Draco thinks he might understand Harry Potter. (Really.)
It is also when he realises that he is on the wrong side.
(And Potter knew the game from before Draco knew he was pawn on the board.)
17/sam/claw