When Harry met The Malfoys
i've been crap with comments and the like this week so i'll attempt to catch up pretty soon :)
Title: When Harry met The Malfoys
Author: idontgiveafaux
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Prompt: Wine
Word Count: 2620
Summary: Being in such close proximity to the Malfoys unnerved Harry…
Warnings: (at your discretion) Few swears
Notes: Birthday gift!fic for liriaen x
Authors Notes: The ending is a bit flat but I just had to incorporate this in some shape or form ever since you made that entry on it :)
Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably as Draco, his mother, and his father all laughed over regaled tales of setting up bets at their annual family banquet last Spring. He took a small sip from his wine glass. There was only a little bit left but he didn’t finish off the last drop because he didn’t want to be left with nothing to do until the next one came. At least lifting his glass to his lips and setting it back down on the table kept him temporarily occupied.
“What was it you were betting on?” he asked Draco, in an attempt to look like he was joining in the conversation and hating the way his voice wobbled in nervousness. There was something about being around the Malfoys that unnerved him. Looking around the table in the restaurant he could see Narcissa hiding a smirk behind her hand and Lucius just staring at him in unconcealed dislike. Draco, dabbing at his eyes with a serviette in the same way he did when he told what he thought to be a humorous joke, turned to him.
“House elf fighting,” he replied, when his laughter had eventually subsided. “Fights to the death. No magic allowed but weaponry encouraged. It was really most hilarious, Harry!”
“Do you remember when Fainray was hitting Keer over the head with an umbrella?” Narcissa piped up.
“Oh don’t, stop!” Draco begged and exploded into howled laughter when she broke into high-pitched squeals that Harry could only assume were the death cries of one of the aforementioned house elves. It was only the promise of a week of Draco as his sex slave that kept him rooted to the chair instead of doing what he felt like doing: getting the hell out of the restaurant and apologising to Hermione for not taking more of an active interest in S.P.E.W. He downed the last of the wine in his glass and then looked around in the vain hope that their second round was on its way. When he saw it wasn’t, and Draco began to describe (in horrific detail) the mutilation left after the house elves fought, he kicked his ankle with a force he hoped would shut him up immediately and perhaps it might have done, had he actually kicked his ankle and not Lucius’ by mistake. Lucius let out a yelp and if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he was going to get a bollocking from Draco (or worse, his bollocks hexed off), he would have laughed.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Narcissa enquired.
“That… that…” The look in his eyes was of pure loathing for Harry but after Lucius snatched a quick glance at his son, he thought better of it and continued less aggressively. “Potter has just decided to kick me for absolutely no reason.”
Harry swallowed hard as three pairs of Malfoy eyes instantly fixated on him. “What on earth makes you think you can go around kicking people?” Narcissa asked coldly.
He couldn’t believe this. He was in the presence of three people who, granted, had tried hard to make up for past behaviour but by no means had changed their manner or attitudes and yet they were all appalled that he kicked someone?
“I warned you before we left about the level of politeness you were expected to have at this dinner,” Draco spat furiously. “How would you like it if I kicked Weasel Senior while we were sat round a table?”
“Well you have!” Harry retorted. “When you and Ron were steaming drunk that one night and you ended up having an argument followed by a kicking match under the table and you got Mr. Weasley by mistake!”
“Sounds amusing,” Lucius sneered.
“Oh it was,” Draco replied wickedly. “Especially when The Weasel kicked Harry by mistake after that and they ended up pulling each others hair and rolling around on the kitchen floor. I wasn’t the only one wasted that night, was I?”
Harry folded his arms and sulked in reply.
The restaurant was extremely busy and the twenty minutes Harry had been sitting at the table felt like a lifetime and they still hadn’t ordered any food yet. Harry let out the loudest groan he thought he could get away with as the Malfoy’s started sniping at the poor service and how they ‘would never set foot in this ghastly place again’ before he reached for Draco’s hand and pulled him away from the conversation and entered into whispered exchange with him. “Can I please leave?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No!”
“Draco, I can’t stand this, it’s horrible.”
“What’s horrible?”
“Your parents.”
“Potter!”
“I’m sorry but I don’t like the way your dad just stares at me. It’s weird.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“Not that. He just stares at me like he hates me.”
“He does hate you.”
“So why am I here!?”
“You’re here for me.”
“Well if I’m here for you then you better not leave that chair for a second until we leave because I’m not being left alone with them. Especially your dad.”
“Fine, whatever.”
“I mean it Draco.”
“Okay!”
“Well well, our second round has finally arrived,” Narcissa announced loudly. Draco looked over to the drinks tray that was slowly hovering over and made a big show of clapping his hands in sarcastic appreciation while Harry just watched Lucius staring back at him with a look of severe loathing on his face. And it was because he was watching Lucius, Harry missed the crooked grin from Draco that was concealed as quickly as it came. The drinks tray hovered over his head and then his attention was diverted from Lucius when it positioned itself in the air neatly and then slowly started to descend down onto the centre of the table. Harry, his reflexes quicker than most others, scooted back in time to avoid the tray that suddenly crashed down onto the table, sending the glasses of wine it was carrying toppling in all directions. Lucius had managed to avoid it too but Draco and Narcissa had been less unfortunate and were now standing up, shouting and screaming loudly at the state of their wine-soaked clothes.
“For goodness sakes, let me fix it,” Lucius said irritably, getting out his wand.
“What are you doing?” Draco demanded in wild hysteria.
“A simple cleaning spell, of course. Or has living with Potter and associating with Weasley made you forget what one of those are?” Harry gave him a dirty look.
“This is designer!” Draco screeched, dodging from the wand. “And so is Mothers - I brought her that for her birthday! It’s non-spell washable! They simply must be dry-cleaned.” Harry didn’t dare mention that Draco had quite forgotten her last birthday and had had to rush out to Topshop to buy something at the last minute.
“I’m going to complain!” Narcissa shouted out loudly.
“We’ll complain afterwards!” said Draco. “Mother, I know this place is unbearable and we’d much rather eat somewhere else but everywhere is so busy. It took us hours just to get a booking.”
“Even when we mentioned the famous Harry Potter was going to be tagging along with us,” Lucius sneered. Harry threw him a hateful glare and then looked up desperately as Draco and Narcissa began to walk away from the table.
“WAIT!” Lucius shouted, seemingly as desperate as Harry not to be left alone in each others company.
“Just order for us, Father,” Draco shouted back, steering Narcissa to the exit and rubbing her back soothingly. “You know what Mother likes and Harry knows what I like. We’re popping off to the drycleaners. We won’t be long.”
Harry had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Since Draco and Narcissa had left, Lucius had just stared. At first, Harry tried staring back, but that just made him more nervous, because he was receiving the same look from Lucius that Draco gave him when he was mad at him. And the fact that it was coming from Draco’s father, the person Draco most likely modelled his own glare on in the first place made it scarier, so after that he decided to stare into his lap. But even so, he could still feel his gaze on him so he got up from his chair and announced, “I’m going to the toilet.”
“Why are you informing me? Merlin, are you that much of an imbecile that you’re incapable of holding your own penis now?” It seemed that Draco’s glare wasn’t the only thing he had adopted from his father’s attributes. That put down was classic Draco. But it was coming from a Draco that he hated and would never shag in a million years and so he was confused as how to deal with him.
“At last, the menus are finally arriving. Sit down, Potter.”
Harry sat down and then angrily scolded himself in his mind for complying with Dra - Lucius’ order so readily. He grabbed the menu that was hovering patiently in front of him and opened it up. Scanning through the first page, he didn’t see anything that took his or Draco’s fancy, so he flicked through the second, and the third before turning to the last page and seeing nothing on there either. He looked up and saw Lucius’ staring at him, only this time his expression was less hateful and more amused.
“Don’t tell me you can’t read now either!”
“Of course I can read!” Harry snapped. “I just don’t see anything that I like on the menu.”
“And Draco?”
“Nothing that he likes either.”
“Are you trying to tell me that my family and I have eaten here many times and Draco, having finished all of what was on his plate every time, doesn’t like anything on the menu?”
“Erm…” Harry was beginning to feel trapped again - trapped into saying the wrong thing and getting bombarded by more perfectly-executed insults from Dra - Lucius. “No?”
Lucius’ amused expression snapped back into his disgusted one. “So order then, you buffoon.”
Inner voices were screaming inside Harry’s mind, telling him to say something back but he just couldn’t. Lucius was exactly like Draco - if you argued with him you were going to lose. And seeing as Harry couldn’t hex him, hit him or hurt him in any other way (again) and would incur Draco’s wrath if he left, he just sat there and took it, reading the menu more thoroughly this time.
“Nothing,” said Harry in defeat finally, tossing the menu onto the table in front of him.
Lucius rolled his eyes but looked pleased nonetheless. “I suppose I’ll order for the three of us,” he replied smugly. “You can just go without if you’re not adult enough to make up your own mind.”
Fuck you, Harry wanted to say but he kept his lips pressed together and swallowed back the expletive that lay temptingly on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he just dared to stick out his tongue immaturely at Lucius, while he was too busy filling out their choices on the scroll with the Order!Quill to notice.
Lucius signed the bottom of the scroll with a flourish and the Quill and scroll dutifully hovered their way to the kitchen. He linked his palms together and rested his chin on his fingers. “So.”
“…So?”
Lucius rolled his eyes again. “For conversation to work, it requires two people to do a little thing called communicating, not you just repeating everything I say.”
“I don’t want to communicate with you!”
“No, I suppose you don’t and the fact that my son is so desperate for us to get along makes no difference to you whatsoever, does it?”
Harry bunched his hands into fists under the table. He was only at this stupid dinner because he did care that Draco wanted them to get along - did he really think he was here for any other reason? “Course it does,” he said sullenly.
The replacement drinks arrived at this point and Lucius didn’t say anything for a while so Harry took his glass from the tray, throwing back his head and opening up his throat to let as much wine down there as possible.
“I want to know what your intentions are with my son.”
Harry spluttered, his eyes wide, and he coughed up some excess wine, making it run down his chin and dribble onto the tablecloth disgracefully. Lucius looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up and he kept breaking his horrified gaze from Harry to snatch looks around the restaurant to see if anyone was witnessing such disgusting behaviour.
“Intentions?” Harry asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
Lucius tossed him a serviette with a pained expression on his face. “Yes. I want to know that you’re going to be there for him. I want to know that you’re not going to mess him around. And as much as it kills me to say it I want to know that you love him.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed before continuing with the next part. “As much as he loves you.”
Harry stared at him in shock. Surely, this wasn’t a blessing in disguise from Lucius? “Y-yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, of course. Yeah.”
“…Well, my faith has certainly been restored after your most eloquent reassurance.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply before he caught sight of Draco and Narcissa coming back into the restaurant. He stood up abruptly, ready to warmly welcome Draco (while giving him a sly dig to the ribs for leaving him there in the first place, of course.) Lucius turned around to see what he was looking at and then stood up too, enveloping his wife into a sweeping hug when they reached the table and kissing her gratefully. Harry thought he heard him say, ‘it was so awful’ but Draco grabbed his arse and flashed him an almost kindly smirk at that point and he let it go.
“Thanks for leaving me,” he muttered.
“No problem,” Draco muttered back and then raised his voice to speak to his father. “Have you ordered?”
“Yes,” Lucius replied, pulling out a chair for Narcissa and waited for her to sit down before he did the same. “Well, I ordered for us three. Potter wasn’t hungry.”
“There was nothing suitable on the menu,” Harry explained, sitting down. “I didn’t think there was anything you liked either but your dad ord -”
“Father,” Lucius interjected.
“Father ordered for you instead,” Harry continued without missing a beat. “I didn’t know you were fond of seafood.”
“I’m not!” replied Draco, pulling a disgusted face. “Surely you should know that after the Valentines day fiasco! Anyway, they don’t just sell seafood here, they sell all sorts.” Harry caught sight of Lucius hiding a smirk and Narcissa tittering away behind her hand and he grimaced angrily.
“Most unfortunate you weren’t hungry, Potter!” said Lucius nastily, tucking into his meal.
“He probably cast a spell on your menu,” Draco mumbled apologetically.
“Well yeah, I know that now,” Harry muttered back angrily. “It all makes sense now. I knew you wouldn’t have been fond of eel pie, whatever flavour the eel juice came in.”
Draco rubbed his knee under the table sympathetically and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of mints. “Polo?”
“No thanks. And don’t let me not having anything to eat stop you from tucking in.”
“I won’t,” Draco assured him. “But let me know if you want a bite.”
Harry would let him know when he wanted a bite. When they got home Draco was officially his
sex slave for a week and he planned to mark every inch of his body for this horrific non-meal.
Title: When Harry met The Malfoys
Author: idontgiveafaux
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Prompt: Wine
Word Count: 2620
Summary: Being in such close proximity to the Malfoys unnerved Harry…
Warnings: (at your discretion) Few swears
Notes: Birthday gift!fic for liriaen x
Authors Notes: The ending is a bit flat but I just had to incorporate this in some shape or form ever since you made that entry on it :)
Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably as Draco, his mother, and his father all laughed over regaled tales of setting up bets at their annual family banquet last Spring. He took a small sip from his wine glass. There was only a little bit left but he didn’t finish off the last drop because he didn’t want to be left with nothing to do until the next one came. At least lifting his glass to his lips and setting it back down on the table kept him temporarily occupied.
“What was it you were betting on?” he asked Draco, in an attempt to look like he was joining in the conversation and hating the way his voice wobbled in nervousness. There was something about being around the Malfoys that unnerved him. Looking around the table in the restaurant he could see Narcissa hiding a smirk behind her hand and Lucius just staring at him in unconcealed dislike. Draco, dabbing at his eyes with a serviette in the same way he did when he told what he thought to be a humorous joke, turned to him.
“House elf fighting,” he replied, when his laughter had eventually subsided. “Fights to the death. No magic allowed but weaponry encouraged. It was really most hilarious, Harry!”
“Do you remember when Fainray was hitting Keer over the head with an umbrella?” Narcissa piped up.
“Oh don’t, stop!” Draco begged and exploded into howled laughter when she broke into high-pitched squeals that Harry could only assume were the death cries of one of the aforementioned house elves. It was only the promise of a week of Draco as his sex slave that kept him rooted to the chair instead of doing what he felt like doing: getting the hell out of the restaurant and apologising to Hermione for not taking more of an active interest in S.P.E.W. He downed the last of the wine in his glass and then looked around in the vain hope that their second round was on its way. When he saw it wasn’t, and Draco began to describe (in horrific detail) the mutilation left after the house elves fought, he kicked his ankle with a force he hoped would shut him up immediately and perhaps it might have done, had he actually kicked his ankle and not Lucius’ by mistake. Lucius let out a yelp and if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he was going to get a bollocking from Draco (or worse, his bollocks hexed off), he would have laughed.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Narcissa enquired.
“That… that…” The look in his eyes was of pure loathing for Harry but after Lucius snatched a quick glance at his son, he thought better of it and continued less aggressively. “Potter has just decided to kick me for absolutely no reason.”
Harry swallowed hard as three pairs of Malfoy eyes instantly fixated on him. “What on earth makes you think you can go around kicking people?” Narcissa asked coldly.
He couldn’t believe this. He was in the presence of three people who, granted, had tried hard to make up for past behaviour but by no means had changed their manner or attitudes and yet they were all appalled that he kicked someone?
“I warned you before we left about the level of politeness you were expected to have at this dinner,” Draco spat furiously. “How would you like it if I kicked Weasel Senior while we were sat round a table?”
“Well you have!” Harry retorted. “When you and Ron were steaming drunk that one night and you ended up having an argument followed by a kicking match under the table and you got Mr. Weasley by mistake!”
“Sounds amusing,” Lucius sneered.
“Oh it was,” Draco replied wickedly. “Especially when The Weasel kicked Harry by mistake after that and they ended up pulling each others hair and rolling around on the kitchen floor. I wasn’t the only one wasted that night, was I?”
Harry folded his arms and sulked in reply.
The restaurant was extremely busy and the twenty minutes Harry had been sitting at the table felt like a lifetime and they still hadn’t ordered any food yet. Harry let out the loudest groan he thought he could get away with as the Malfoy’s started sniping at the poor service and how they ‘would never set foot in this ghastly place again’ before he reached for Draco’s hand and pulled him away from the conversation and entered into whispered exchange with him. “Can I please leave?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No!”
“Draco, I can’t stand this, it’s horrible.”
“What’s horrible?”
“Your parents.”
“Potter!”
“I’m sorry but I don’t like the way your dad just stares at me. It’s weird.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“Not that. He just stares at me like he hates me.”
“He does hate you.”
“So why am I here!?”
“You’re here for me.”
“Well if I’m here for you then you better not leave that chair for a second until we leave because I’m not being left alone with them. Especially your dad.”
“Fine, whatever.”
“I mean it Draco.”
“Okay!”
“Well well, our second round has finally arrived,” Narcissa announced loudly. Draco looked over to the drinks tray that was slowly hovering over and made a big show of clapping his hands in sarcastic appreciation while Harry just watched Lucius staring back at him with a look of severe loathing on his face. And it was because he was watching Lucius, Harry missed the crooked grin from Draco that was concealed as quickly as it came. The drinks tray hovered over his head and then his attention was diverted from Lucius when it positioned itself in the air neatly and then slowly started to descend down onto the centre of the table. Harry, his reflexes quicker than most others, scooted back in time to avoid the tray that suddenly crashed down onto the table, sending the glasses of wine it was carrying toppling in all directions. Lucius had managed to avoid it too but Draco and Narcissa had been less unfortunate and were now standing up, shouting and screaming loudly at the state of their wine-soaked clothes.
“For goodness sakes, let me fix it,” Lucius said irritably, getting out his wand.
“What are you doing?” Draco demanded in wild hysteria.
“A simple cleaning spell, of course. Or has living with Potter and associating with Weasley made you forget what one of those are?” Harry gave him a dirty look.
“This is designer!” Draco screeched, dodging from the wand. “And so is Mothers - I brought her that for her birthday! It’s non-spell washable! They simply must be dry-cleaned.” Harry didn’t dare mention that Draco had quite forgotten her last birthday and had had to rush out to Topshop to buy something at the last minute.
“I’m going to complain!” Narcissa shouted out loudly.
“We’ll complain afterwards!” said Draco. “Mother, I know this place is unbearable and we’d much rather eat somewhere else but everywhere is so busy. It took us hours just to get a booking.”
“Even when we mentioned the famous Harry Potter was going to be tagging along with us,” Lucius sneered. Harry threw him a hateful glare and then looked up desperately as Draco and Narcissa began to walk away from the table.
“WAIT!” Lucius shouted, seemingly as desperate as Harry not to be left alone in each others company.
“Just order for us, Father,” Draco shouted back, steering Narcissa to the exit and rubbing her back soothingly. “You know what Mother likes and Harry knows what I like. We’re popping off to the drycleaners. We won’t be long.”
Harry had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Since Draco and Narcissa had left, Lucius had just stared. At first, Harry tried staring back, but that just made him more nervous, because he was receiving the same look from Lucius that Draco gave him when he was mad at him. And the fact that it was coming from Draco’s father, the person Draco most likely modelled his own glare on in the first place made it scarier, so after that he decided to stare into his lap. But even so, he could still feel his gaze on him so he got up from his chair and announced, “I’m going to the toilet.”
“Why are you informing me? Merlin, are you that much of an imbecile that you’re incapable of holding your own penis now?” It seemed that Draco’s glare wasn’t the only thing he had adopted from his father’s attributes. That put down was classic Draco. But it was coming from a Draco that he hated and would never shag in a million years and so he was confused as how to deal with him.
“At last, the menus are finally arriving. Sit down, Potter.”
Harry sat down and then angrily scolded himself in his mind for complying with Dra - Lucius’ order so readily. He grabbed the menu that was hovering patiently in front of him and opened it up. Scanning through the first page, he didn’t see anything that took his or Draco’s fancy, so he flicked through the second, and the third before turning to the last page and seeing nothing on there either. He looked up and saw Lucius’ staring at him, only this time his expression was less hateful and more amused.
“Don’t tell me you can’t read now either!”
“Of course I can read!” Harry snapped. “I just don’t see anything that I like on the menu.”
“And Draco?”
“Nothing that he likes either.”
“Are you trying to tell me that my family and I have eaten here many times and Draco, having finished all of what was on his plate every time, doesn’t like anything on the menu?”
“Erm…” Harry was beginning to feel trapped again - trapped into saying the wrong thing and getting bombarded by more perfectly-executed insults from Dra - Lucius. “No?”
Lucius’ amused expression snapped back into his disgusted one. “So order then, you buffoon.”
Inner voices were screaming inside Harry’s mind, telling him to say something back but he just couldn’t. Lucius was exactly like Draco - if you argued with him you were going to lose. And seeing as Harry couldn’t hex him, hit him or hurt him in any other way (again) and would incur Draco’s wrath if he left, he just sat there and took it, reading the menu more thoroughly this time.
“Nothing,” said Harry in defeat finally, tossing the menu onto the table in front of him.
Lucius rolled his eyes but looked pleased nonetheless. “I suppose I’ll order for the three of us,” he replied smugly. “You can just go without if you’re not adult enough to make up your own mind.”
Fuck you, Harry wanted to say but he kept his lips pressed together and swallowed back the expletive that lay temptingly on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he just dared to stick out his tongue immaturely at Lucius, while he was too busy filling out their choices on the scroll with the Order!Quill to notice.
Lucius signed the bottom of the scroll with a flourish and the Quill and scroll dutifully hovered their way to the kitchen. He linked his palms together and rested his chin on his fingers. “So.”
“…So?”
Lucius rolled his eyes again. “For conversation to work, it requires two people to do a little thing called communicating, not you just repeating everything I say.”
“I don’t want to communicate with you!”
“No, I suppose you don’t and the fact that my son is so desperate for us to get along makes no difference to you whatsoever, does it?”
Harry bunched his hands into fists under the table. He was only at this stupid dinner because he did care that Draco wanted them to get along - did he really think he was here for any other reason? “Course it does,” he said sullenly.
The replacement drinks arrived at this point and Lucius didn’t say anything for a while so Harry took his glass from the tray, throwing back his head and opening up his throat to let as much wine down there as possible.
“I want to know what your intentions are with my son.”
Harry spluttered, his eyes wide, and he coughed up some excess wine, making it run down his chin and dribble onto the tablecloth disgracefully. Lucius looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up and he kept breaking his horrified gaze from Harry to snatch looks around the restaurant to see if anyone was witnessing such disgusting behaviour.
“Intentions?” Harry asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
Lucius tossed him a serviette with a pained expression on his face. “Yes. I want to know that you’re going to be there for him. I want to know that you’re not going to mess him around. And as much as it kills me to say it I want to know that you love him.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed before continuing with the next part. “As much as he loves you.”
Harry stared at him in shock. Surely, this wasn’t a blessing in disguise from Lucius? “Y-yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, of course. Yeah.”
“…Well, my faith has certainly been restored after your most eloquent reassurance.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply before he caught sight of Draco and Narcissa coming back into the restaurant. He stood up abruptly, ready to warmly welcome Draco (while giving him a sly dig to the ribs for leaving him there in the first place, of course.) Lucius turned around to see what he was looking at and then stood up too, enveloping his wife into a sweeping hug when they reached the table and kissing her gratefully. Harry thought he heard him say, ‘it was so awful’ but Draco grabbed his arse and flashed him an almost kindly smirk at that point and he let it go.
“Thanks for leaving me,” he muttered.
“No problem,” Draco muttered back and then raised his voice to speak to his father. “Have you ordered?”
“Yes,” Lucius replied, pulling out a chair for Narcissa and waited for her to sit down before he did the same. “Well, I ordered for us three. Potter wasn’t hungry.”
“There was nothing suitable on the menu,” Harry explained, sitting down. “I didn’t think there was anything you liked either but your dad ord -”
“Father,” Lucius interjected.
“Father ordered for you instead,” Harry continued without missing a beat. “I didn’t know you were fond of seafood.”
“I’m not!” replied Draco, pulling a disgusted face. “Surely you should know that after the Valentines day fiasco! Anyway, they don’t just sell seafood here, they sell all sorts.” Harry caught sight of Lucius hiding a smirk and Narcissa tittering away behind her hand and he grimaced angrily.
“Most unfortunate you weren’t hungry, Potter!” said Lucius nastily, tucking into his meal.
“He probably cast a spell on your menu,” Draco mumbled apologetically.
“Well yeah, I know that now,” Harry muttered back angrily. “It all makes sense now. I knew you wouldn’t have been fond of eel pie, whatever flavour the eel juice came in.”
Draco rubbed his knee under the table sympathetically and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of mints. “Polo?”
“No thanks. And don’t let me not having anything to eat stop you from tucking in.”
“I won’t,” Draco assured him. “But let me know if you want a bite.”
Harry would let him know when he wanted a bite. When they got home Draco was officially his
sex slave for a week and he planned to mark every inch of his body for this horrific non-meal.