MOAR FICS
For FF100
Title: (none)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini
Prompt: 011: Red
Word Count: 1,220
Rating: Eh...PG-13 for one use of a British swear
Summary: Draco and Blaise spends their respective families' money in ways they see fit--they only buys her things, Hermione reasons, because they loves her.
Author's Notes: Wrote this on a whim, and it hasn't been beta'd yet, so it's probably very rough, but I wanted to get it out there. Takes place two years after 7th year, so they're about 19 and 20 years old.
Draco scowled at his girlfriend, tugging at the tie she was insisting he wore, and (although he wouldn't admit it) considered hexing it back to a more suitable color.
He stopped fussing as he heard Mione approach, laughter bubbling into the room before her, and he heard Blaise's answering laugh from the other room. As always, when she swept into the room, he felt his heart skip a beat, and he took a moment to watch her in the mirror as she moved around the bedroom.
She was wearing black, with a shimmering overlay of silver threading through the darker fabric. She'd let her hair down, he noticed, since the last time she'd walked out of the room, and by its more-frazzled-than-usual state, he could only guess she had been fretting over it, trying to figure out what to do with it. He smiled as she moved around the room, small form standing on tiptoe to get the shoebox out of her closet. Finally he sighed and crossed to her, smiling.
"Please, let me," he said, grinning down at her. She huffed up at him and dropped to her heels, grin finally breaking through. He reached up easily and slid down the box she was looking for, saw the label, and gave her a long-suffering look. "No," he said simply, sliding them back up.
"Draco!" Mione had grabbed his arm in an instant and was tugging at it as his fingers tapped over the other labels on other boxes. "Draco, I [i]like[/i] those shoes, there's nothing wrong with them, just because they didn't cost a hundred galleons doesn't mean they're not sturdy--"
"Yes, I know," Draco drawled, finally locating the box he wanted. He slid it out and held it out to her. "They are [i]so[/i] sturdy, in fact, that they lasted you three years in Hogwarts and now two years after that." He shook the box in her direction and she finally took it, grabbing it irritably. "These are much more suitable for that dress," he said, stepping out of the closet and back over to the mirror.
"I just...I don't see WHY I have to put something on my feet that cost more than a month's salary," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and lifting the lid on the box. She sighed softly at the black material, running one finger over the satin-covered heel before putting her irriitated face back on again and shoving the shoe on her foot.
"Because, Mione." Draco said patiently, adjusting his suit. "I bought them for you because I could. Don't," he said quietly when she opened her mouth again to speak, and crossed to her, taking the other shoe out of her hands and kneeling down beside her--carefully, so as to not wrinkle his suit. He slipped the shoe on and pressed a kiss to her ankle before looking up at her. "I don't want my family's money to fund the things it used to," he said softly. "I see things I like for you or for Blaise, and I buy them because I can."
Her poor boy, Hermione thought. He looked so troubled, so unsure. And irritated at the same time. She cupped his face in her hand and traced her thumb over the line of his cheekbone. "I know," she said just as softly. Just as she knew it tormented him to have the money, to know it was there. Just as she knew he poured thousands of galleons into Muggle memorials and charities for young witches and wizards left orphaned by the war. Just as she knew that, while he was pretending to be upset about the event they had to attend tonight, he was the largest anonymous benefactor of the foundation throwing the party. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, softly, reassuring, and he wrapped his fingers in her hair, cupping her face in his other hand, pressing against her. She wound her arms around his neck and returned the need she felt coming from him.
After a few moments, he pulled away, leaving them both slightly breathless. He rested his forehead against hers. "I'll muss your dress," he said, smiling at her.
She laughed lightly. "Your suit already looks a little mussed." He glanced down at it and she stood. "Here," she said, fetching her wand and casting a quick de-wrinkling spell. Draco looked at her, amused.
"You can do that wandlessly, you know," he said, standing and flicking a piece of lint off the lapel of his suit. Mione shrugged.
"I know," she said simply, turning to the mirror on top of her dresser. Draco watched her tug her hair in a variety of directions before she grew frustrated and stopped, dropping her arms when she heard footsteps.
Blaise entered the room, looking lean and dangerous in black with subtle green pinstripes. Draco sometimes thought that Blaise was the only man he knew who could make pinstripes look fashionable. Blaise's eyes--brilliant green to match the tie he wore--took in Draco by one mirror and Mione at the other and he grinned, teeth flashing white against dark skin. "I hate living with two girls," he commented, moving to Mione, "you take too bloody long to get ready." Draco had a retort ready, but since Blaise was currently occupied kissing their girl's forehead, he decided to get revenge later.
Blaise pulled a long, slim box out of his pocket and handed it to Hermione, who looked at him questioningly. "Go on," Blaise said, "You have to open it to wear it." As Hermione moved to do so, Draco stepped over to them.
"Why don't you grumble when he gives you presents?" he asked, indignant. Blaise grinned at him.
"Mine are in much better taste," he answered. Hermione grinned and shrugged.
"He's right." Draco muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "cocky little bugger," and Blaise merely smiled at him and ran one arm down Draco's, entwining their fingers and giving Draco's hand a light squeeze. Draco felt it all the way to the tips of his toes.
Hermione lifted the lid and gasped, then turned and hugged them both, mashing the three of them together in an awkward hug. Draco knew she knew how to finesse it so the three of them were in it equally, but he saw what was in the box and met Blaise's eyes over Mione's head. The two exchanged quiet smiles.
Using their free arms to hug the girl back, the two sought out her hand with their joined ones, and managed to sandwich hers in-between theirs.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Finally, Mione stepped back, trying not to sniffle. "Thank you," she said, smiling at Blaise, who merely shrugged and returned the smile.
Mione stepped back and lifted the delicately woven net of rubies and silver out of the case, and set it on the crown of her head, gathering her curls at the nape of her neck and securing the net around her hair. Draco reached out and touched one of the small ruby flowers that made up the band of the net and smiled.
"So that's why you wanted me to wear red," he said to Blaise.
Blaise's only response was a sharp, wicked grin.
Title: (none)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini
Prompt: 011: Red
Word Count: 1,220
Rating: Eh...PG-13 for one use of a British swear
Summary: Draco and Blaise spends their respective families' money in ways they see fit--they only buys her things, Hermione reasons, because they loves her.
Author's Notes: Wrote this on a whim, and it hasn't been beta'd yet, so it's probably very rough, but I wanted to get it out there. Takes place two years after 7th year, so they're about 19 and 20 years old.
Draco scowled at his girlfriend, tugging at the tie she was insisting he wore, and (although he wouldn't admit it) considered hexing it back to a more suitable color.
He stopped fussing as he heard Mione approach, laughter bubbling into the room before her, and he heard Blaise's answering laugh from the other room. As always, when she swept into the room, he felt his heart skip a beat, and he took a moment to watch her in the mirror as she moved around the bedroom.
She was wearing black, with a shimmering overlay of silver threading through the darker fabric. She'd let her hair down, he noticed, since the last time she'd walked out of the room, and by its more-frazzled-than-usual state, he could only guess she had been fretting over it, trying to figure out what to do with it. He smiled as she moved around the room, small form standing on tiptoe to get the shoebox out of her closet. Finally he sighed and crossed to her, smiling.
"Please, let me," he said, grinning down at her. She huffed up at him and dropped to her heels, grin finally breaking through. He reached up easily and slid down the box she was looking for, saw the label, and gave her a long-suffering look. "No," he said simply, sliding them back up.
"Draco!" Mione had grabbed his arm in an instant and was tugging at it as his fingers tapped over the other labels on other boxes. "Draco, I [i]like[/i] those shoes, there's nothing wrong with them, just because they didn't cost a hundred galleons doesn't mean they're not sturdy--"
"Yes, I know," Draco drawled, finally locating the box he wanted. He slid it out and held it out to her. "They are [i]so[/i] sturdy, in fact, that they lasted you three years in Hogwarts and now two years after that." He shook the box in her direction and she finally took it, grabbing it irritably. "These are much more suitable for that dress," he said, stepping out of the closet and back over to the mirror.
"I just...I don't see WHY I have to put something on my feet that cost more than a month's salary," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and lifting the lid on the box. She sighed softly at the black material, running one finger over the satin-covered heel before putting her irriitated face back on again and shoving the shoe on her foot.
"Because, Mione." Draco said patiently, adjusting his suit. "I bought them for you because I could. Don't," he said quietly when she opened her mouth again to speak, and crossed to her, taking the other shoe out of her hands and kneeling down beside her--carefully, so as to not wrinkle his suit. He slipped the shoe on and pressed a kiss to her ankle before looking up at her. "I don't want my family's money to fund the things it used to," he said softly. "I see things I like for you or for Blaise, and I buy them because I can."
Her poor boy, Hermione thought. He looked so troubled, so unsure. And irritated at the same time. She cupped his face in her hand and traced her thumb over the line of his cheekbone. "I know," she said just as softly. Just as she knew it tormented him to have the money, to know it was there. Just as she knew he poured thousands of galleons into Muggle memorials and charities for young witches and wizards left orphaned by the war. Just as she knew that, while he was pretending to be upset about the event they had to attend tonight, he was the largest anonymous benefactor of the foundation throwing the party. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, softly, reassuring, and he wrapped his fingers in her hair, cupping her face in his other hand, pressing against her. She wound her arms around his neck and returned the need she felt coming from him.
After a few moments, he pulled away, leaving them both slightly breathless. He rested his forehead against hers. "I'll muss your dress," he said, smiling at her.
She laughed lightly. "Your suit already looks a little mussed." He glanced down at it and she stood. "Here," she said, fetching her wand and casting a quick de-wrinkling spell. Draco looked at her, amused.
"You can do that wandlessly, you know," he said, standing and flicking a piece of lint off the lapel of his suit. Mione shrugged.
"I know," she said simply, turning to the mirror on top of her dresser. Draco watched her tug her hair in a variety of directions before she grew frustrated and stopped, dropping her arms when she heard footsteps.
Blaise entered the room, looking lean and dangerous in black with subtle green pinstripes. Draco sometimes thought that Blaise was the only man he knew who could make pinstripes look fashionable. Blaise's eyes--brilliant green to match the tie he wore--took in Draco by one mirror and Mione at the other and he grinned, teeth flashing white against dark skin. "I hate living with two girls," he commented, moving to Mione, "you take too bloody long to get ready." Draco had a retort ready, but since Blaise was currently occupied kissing their girl's forehead, he decided to get revenge later.
Blaise pulled a long, slim box out of his pocket and handed it to Hermione, who looked at him questioningly. "Go on," Blaise said, "You have to open it to wear it." As Hermione moved to do so, Draco stepped over to them.
"Why don't you grumble when he gives you presents?" he asked, indignant. Blaise grinned at him.
"Mine are in much better taste," he answered. Hermione grinned and shrugged.
"He's right." Draco muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "cocky little bugger," and Blaise merely smiled at him and ran one arm down Draco's, entwining their fingers and giving Draco's hand a light squeeze. Draco felt it all the way to the tips of his toes.
Hermione lifted the lid and gasped, then turned and hugged them both, mashing the three of them together in an awkward hug. Draco knew she knew how to finesse it so the three of them were in it equally, but he saw what was in the box and met Blaise's eyes over Mione's head. The two exchanged quiet smiles.
Using their free arms to hug the girl back, the two sought out her hand with their joined ones, and managed to sandwich hers in-between theirs.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Finally, Mione stepped back, trying not to sniffle. "Thank you," she said, smiling at Blaise, who merely shrugged and returned the smile.
Mione stepped back and lifted the delicately woven net of rubies and silver out of the case, and set it on the crown of her head, gathering her curls at the nape of her neck and securing the net around her hair. Draco reached out and touched one of the small ruby flowers that made up the band of the net and smiled.
"So that's why you wanted me to wear red," he said to Blaise.
Blaise's only response was a sharp, wicked grin.