Some Drabbles
Hello, all. I haven't been writing much lately (ohmigod, I'm about 200 words from the end of Hounfour, I PROMISE), except, of course, for th little drabbles I'm about to post. I've just recently gotten myself into writing drabbles, actually, I need to practise writing succinctly (see Hounfour) and, well, that's about all drabbles are good for :D No, I jest. I like them.
Title: Quidditch
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Snape and his imagination, probably.
Word Count: 100
Rating: A suggestive G? Maybe enroaching on PG.
He hated Quidditch.
He hated flying, and he hated watching others fly better than he would ever manage.
He hated sports, and the opportunities it gave the big and strong to bully the small and weak.
He hated watching those boys, the older boys, in their dirty Quidditch gear, walking around like they owned the school, the world, like they didn’t have to answer to anyone because they could hit a ball or catch a snitch.
He hated seeing their flushed faces, hearing their leather creak, smelling their hot sweat…
He hated not tasting and not touching.
He hated Quidditch.
Title: Dragon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 123
Rating: G
Draco has crazy chameleon eyes, as sneaky as his house. The first thing Draco did when he was old enough to read was study books of etymology and find out what his names mean, the first, and the second, and then together. Draco keeps his nails just a little longer than most boys his age. Draco surrounds himself in grey wool, as soft as clouds, and hoards his treasure.
Harry wants to find out the true colour of Draco’s eyes. Harry doesn’t believe he’s that much of a dragon, and his faith in him, at last, is good. Harry has been scratched by those long nails, but never complained. Harry buries his face in grey wool, and smiles at being called a treasure.
Minor spoiler alert!!
Title: Obsession
Fandom: Guess
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: Oh, R? I suppose.
Obsessed with Draco Malfoy.
He couldn’t, he couldn’t stop thinking about the boy - and not just in the context of trying to catch him out. That had only been the start. But you can only watch someone for so long without noticing…things.
Like the depth of grey eyes, or the silkiness of blond hair.
Or the delicate point of a chin, or the sharp lift of a cheekbone.
Or even the certain way teeth press into a lip, or the shimmery quality dark circles under eyes have.
It wasn’t the same as when he thought about Ginny, he knew that, it wasn’t a fierce, pounding joy it was…darker. It was curled even beneath the beast in him that wanted Ron’s sister, it was a snake deep in his mind that slithered around and whispered ‘You want him’ in the darkness of the night. And it held power over him, power greater than Quidditch, power that forced him to put silencing spells up around his bed again and again as he spilled into his own hand, whispering that name, that. Name.
“No,” he murmured shakily as he raised his wet, warm hand to his mouth and licked, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. And the snake twisted into Draco, smiled and replied -
“Yessssss.”
Title: The Bathroom Door
Fandom: Parry Hotter
Pairing: Draco/Maoning Myrtle, Harry
Rating: M
Wordcount: 378
The door squeaks open, just a couple of inches, and Harry holds his breath. The noise is like the screech of a barn owl, cutting through the still, cold air of the bathroom, and he’s sure it must have been heard all the way down to Hagrid’s hut. Biting his lip, hard, he puts an eye to the crack and peeks inside. Is greeted with the sight of a blond head pressed against a mirror, and the ghost of a teenage girl hovering behind it. Harry breathes, and waits.
“Shhh, Draco, it’s ok, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, shhh…” Spectral hands reach out like they want to touch, and one finger disappears into Draco’s hair. He shivers.
“I do, I do have to, they’ll kill her - both of us. And Father, too, they’ll kill my whole family…”
Still watching, Harry shakes his head in wonder at seeing Draco cry, seeing the tears fall from his bowed face and splash into the basin. He’s human, Harry thinks, he’s human.
Myrtle draws still closer to Draco, trying to catch his eye in the mirror. “It’s not so bad,” she whispers, and her voice is heartbreak. “It’s not. You could come here and be with me forever, then. And we could - I could - I could touch you.” Draco looks up at this, and Harry baulks at his first proper glimpse of his face. Pale, so pale, with dark shadows glimmering under red-rimmed eyes. Draco looks like he hasn’t eaten properly for weeks, and the new gaunt look to his face emphasizes the slant of his high cheekbones. Harry shakes his head again, wondering why he’s noticing Draco’s cheekbones.
“Draco, my love, my only friend, you’re just like me,” Myrtle is starting to blur into Draco, her edges melding into his, and Harry sees Draco shiver again and close his eyes, letting his head drop back to the mirror. “Draco, Draco, you’re so warm,” Myrtle lifts one hand to Draco’s face, to his mouth, and presses her fingers inside. The other goes lower, below the basin, and Harry can hear Draco gasping, still crying. When his hips start to move forwards, slowly, then faster, Harry knows it’s time to leave.
This time the door doesn’t squeak.
Ok, I think that's it. The second two have spoilers, the first two are pre-HBP. You have been warned. So on and so forth.
I'm watching the Footy Show (Nick isn't playing for the Saints tomorrow! Boo hoo. But we're playing Collingwood, so we'll win anyway), so I simply can't be bothered writing any more. Maybe tomorrow?
--Ciao, Beck