Easily Done
I just finished my to-do list, and it has 57 items. *cringes* And they’re almost all urgent. Crap.
So I’m taking it out on the sweet boys of my Smitten series. Bad me.
Title: Easily Done
Word count: 300
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating PG-13
Warnings: Theodore Nott being a twat
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: Written for hd100’s challenge, easy. It’s the newest installment of the Smitten series.
Despite having left breakfast early, Draco was late to Charms. He hurried in ten minutes after the bell, shirt untucked and hair a mess. He apologised sheepishly to Flitwick, who sighed and waved him to his seat.
Draco winced a little when he sat down.
“Draco!” Pansy hissed, delighted. “Just what were you up to with your Boy Wonder?”
Draco was blushing, but he grinned back anyway. “We found an empty corridor. Those Florentine nuns on the fifth floor will never be the same again.”
Pansy laughed. “The paintings all report to Dumbledore, you know,” she said wickedly.
Draco paled.
~*~
“So by now Dumbledore knows you’re easy,” came a nasty voice from behind them. Pansy turned and glared savagely at Nott, but he proved his stupidity by not shutting up. “Doesn’t it bother you that all the Gryffindors can see you acting the panting slut? Someone’s going to teach you a lesson, Malfoy.”
“Someone’s already taught you a lesson, Nott,” Pansy said, sugar-sweet, and touched her wand ostentatiously. “Do I need to do it again?”
Nott’s eyes widened at this, and he shut up. Pansy cackled triumphantly.
Draco’s mouth was still tight. “I’m going to get him,” he muttered.
~*~
After the lesson, Draco decided to go flying: he could always do with more practice, and he needed some exercise to get rid of the still-burning anger in the pit of his stomach.
Draco released his practice Snitch, then kicked off into the twilight-purple air.
He was fifty feet up when a curse was yelled out. The bottom dropped out of Draco’s stomach as his broom fell backwards towards the ground. Draco yowled and tried to stop it, but he couldn’t: next moment he landed, pain thumping through his back.
He looked up at a smirking Theodore Nott. “Hello, Draco.”
So I’m taking it out on the sweet boys of my Smitten series. Bad me.
Title: Easily Done
Word count: 300
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating PG-13
Warnings: Theodore Nott being a twat
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: Written for hd100’s challenge, easy. It’s the newest installment of the Smitten series.
Despite having left breakfast early, Draco was late to Charms. He hurried in ten minutes after the bell, shirt untucked and hair a mess. He apologised sheepishly to Flitwick, who sighed and waved him to his seat.
Draco winced a little when he sat down.
“Draco!” Pansy hissed, delighted. “Just what were you up to with your Boy Wonder?”
Draco was blushing, but he grinned back anyway. “We found an empty corridor. Those Florentine nuns on the fifth floor will never be the same again.”
Pansy laughed. “The paintings all report to Dumbledore, you know,” she said wickedly.
Draco paled.
~*~
“So by now Dumbledore knows you’re easy,” came a nasty voice from behind them. Pansy turned and glared savagely at Nott, but he proved his stupidity by not shutting up. “Doesn’t it bother you that all the Gryffindors can see you acting the panting slut? Someone’s going to teach you a lesson, Malfoy.”
“Someone’s already taught you a lesson, Nott,” Pansy said, sugar-sweet, and touched her wand ostentatiously. “Do I need to do it again?”
Nott’s eyes widened at this, and he shut up. Pansy cackled triumphantly.
Draco’s mouth was still tight. “I’m going to get him,” he muttered.
~*~
After the lesson, Draco decided to go flying: he could always do with more practice, and he needed some exercise to get rid of the still-burning anger in the pit of his stomach.
Draco released his practice Snitch, then kicked off into the twilight-purple air.
He was fifty feet up when a curse was yelled out. The bottom dropped out of Draco’s stomach as his broom fell backwards towards the ground. Draco yowled and tried to stop it, but he couldn’t: next moment he landed, pain thumping through his back.
He looked up at a smirking Theodore Nott. “Hello, Draco.”