Oh, Lord!
Title: Oh, Lord
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~ 930
Challenge: For hd_500. Prompts: shimmer, elf, ring, "Am I dreaming?"
Summary: With these prompts, I couldn't resist. That's all I'm sayin'. Perhaps a wee bit crack-ish.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. And possibly others. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Oh, Lord
Draco watched Harry. Harry watched the ring. The muttering old wretch watched them both. When the decrepit creature's eyes fell on the ring, they widened, shimmering unnaturally in the dark.
They were resting briefly, but Draco knew they needed to move soon. It wasn't safe there. They would find them. They would find Harry.
But he couldn't sleep. Draco didn't trust the crazed look in the elf's eyes whenever he watched Harry. Draco had to make sure Kreacher didn't get the ring. He had to protect Harry, had to make sure they made it to their destination.
Where were they going again? Draco's mind was fuzzy and nothing was clear to him. How had they got there? Why was the ring so important? And why did Harry keep looking at him that way, like he didn't trust Draco any more?
Draco remembered a time when Harry hadn't trusted him, and rightly so. But there was no ring then; there had been an evil wizard instead.
Could the ring be his too? Was it some old relic of Voldemort's? And who was after them? Death Eaters? No, that didn't seem right. Draco didn't think any of this had to do with Voldemort or the Death Eaters. They were long gone. And he and Harry …
They were together now, had been for years. So why, all of a sudden, did Harry not trust him? It was the ring. It was all about the ring. It was evil. Kreacher knew it too.
Draco had to get the ring and destroy it before it destroyed Harry. No. Wait. Destroying the ring was Harry's job. Harry had to do it. He was the hero. And Draco was his sidekick. No. That wasn't right either. Draco was Harry's nemesis. Yes, that was it. No … wait. He was Harry's boyfriend now.
Draco's head began to throb. It was all so confusing. He tried shaking his head to clear the fog. It didn't work. He concentrated, trying again to remember how they got here.
Draco remembered meeting Harry, going to school with him, being on the opposite side of the war from him. Draco remembered flames, and Harry reaching out to pull him to safety. He remembered the heat above him, beneath him, all around him. But most of all, Draco remembered the heat of Harry's body against his own, and the feeling of comfort and safety that came with it.
He remembered Harry arriving at the manor to return Draco's wand. Harry thanking his mother. Harry testifying on behalf of a Death Eater's wife and son. Harry securing their freedom.
Draco remembered not being able to find a job, being shunned, being threatened. He remembered Harry. Always Harry. Harry extending an olive branch, lending his support, helping him find a job, offering his friendship.
Draco remembered their first date, their first kiss, the first time they made love.
Then Draco remembered the press and how they had attacked him. How they said that he had tricked Harry. That Draco wasn't worthy of Harry's attention, never mind his love. And he remembered Harry telling them all that Draco was more than worthy. That he, Draco Malfoy, had saved Harry too, in every way that mattered. And he remembered Harry holding him, comforting him, loving him.
And then he was here. But how did he get here? Where was here anyway? This was all so strange, so surreal.
Then Draco heard a voice. Harry's voice, calling his name. He looked over at Harry, but he was lying still, sleeping, that evil ring clutched in his hands.
"Draco." Yes, it was Harry's voice, but Harry hadn't moved. The voice was coming from somewhere else, somewhere all around him. It was coming from everywhere … and nowhere.
Am I dreaming? Draco wondered.
"Draco!"
Draco's eyes fluttered open to see Harry. Always Harry.
"Where's the ring?" Draco asked, looking at Harry's empty hands, worried for his safety.
"What ring?" Harry asked.
Draco scowled. "You know very well what ring," Draco said. "It's evil, and you have to get rid of it."
Harry began to laugh, softly at first, gradually getting louder.
"What's so funny?" Draco asked, willing himself to wake up properly.
"I told you it wasn't a good idea to watch the entire trilogy in one go."
Draco looked confused, trying to work out what Harry was talking about.
"Lord of the Rings, Draco. We watched them -- all of them -- at your insistence yesterday. You must have been dreaming about it."
"What?" The fog began to clear, and Draco realised where he was. He felt the blood rush to his face. Harry chuckled.
"Laugh it up, ring boy," Draco said as he climbed out of bed.
Harry looked at him, still chortling. "One question, though."
"Hmm?"
"You don't think I actually look like him -- like Frodo -- do you?"
Draco pondered that. "You mean besides the hairy feet and short stature?"
"Yeah." Harry rolled his eyes. "Besides that."
Draco took his time to respond, paying Harry back a little for laughing at him. "Relax, Scarhead," he finally said. "You're much sexier."
"Good." Harry's look of relief quickly morphed into something more predatory as he placed his hands on Draco's hips and pulled him close.
"Just so you know," Harry said as he placed kisses on Draco's neck, "if ever you want to bring that little dream of yours to life --" Harry pulled back, gave Draco a thorough once-over, then leaned in to nip at his ear. "-- I think you'd make a really hot Legolas."
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~ 930
Challenge: For hd_500. Prompts: shimmer, elf, ring, "Am I dreaming?"
Summary: With these prompts, I couldn't resist. That's all I'm sayin'. Perhaps a wee bit crack-ish.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. And possibly others. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Oh, Lord
Draco watched Harry. Harry watched the ring. The muttering old wretch watched them both. When the decrepit creature's eyes fell on the ring, they widened, shimmering unnaturally in the dark.
They were resting briefly, but Draco knew they needed to move soon. It wasn't safe there. They would find them. They would find Harry.
But he couldn't sleep. Draco didn't trust the crazed look in the elf's eyes whenever he watched Harry. Draco had to make sure Kreacher didn't get the ring. He had to protect Harry, had to make sure they made it to their destination.
Where were they going again? Draco's mind was fuzzy and nothing was clear to him. How had they got there? Why was the ring so important? And why did Harry keep looking at him that way, like he didn't trust Draco any more?
Draco remembered a time when Harry hadn't trusted him, and rightly so. But there was no ring then; there had been an evil wizard instead.
Could the ring be his too? Was it some old relic of Voldemort's? And who was after them? Death Eaters? No, that didn't seem right. Draco didn't think any of this had to do with Voldemort or the Death Eaters. They were long gone. And he and Harry …
They were together now, had been for years. So why, all of a sudden, did Harry not trust him? It was the ring. It was all about the ring. It was evil. Kreacher knew it too.
Draco had to get the ring and destroy it before it destroyed Harry. No. Wait. Destroying the ring was Harry's job. Harry had to do it. He was the hero. And Draco was his sidekick. No. That wasn't right either. Draco was Harry's nemesis. Yes, that was it. No … wait. He was Harry's boyfriend now.
Draco's head began to throb. It was all so confusing. He tried shaking his head to clear the fog. It didn't work. He concentrated, trying again to remember how they got here.
Draco remembered meeting Harry, going to school with him, being on the opposite side of the war from him. Draco remembered flames, and Harry reaching out to pull him to safety. He remembered the heat above him, beneath him, all around him. But most of all, Draco remembered the heat of Harry's body against his own, and the feeling of comfort and safety that came with it.
He remembered Harry arriving at the manor to return Draco's wand. Harry thanking his mother. Harry testifying on behalf of a Death Eater's wife and son. Harry securing their freedom.
Draco remembered not being able to find a job, being shunned, being threatened. He remembered Harry. Always Harry. Harry extending an olive branch, lending his support, helping him find a job, offering his friendship.
Draco remembered their first date, their first kiss, the first time they made love.
Then Draco remembered the press and how they had attacked him. How they said that he had tricked Harry. That Draco wasn't worthy of Harry's attention, never mind his love. And he remembered Harry telling them all that Draco was more than worthy. That he, Draco Malfoy, had saved Harry too, in every way that mattered. And he remembered Harry holding him, comforting him, loving him.
And then he was here. But how did he get here? Where was here anyway? This was all so strange, so surreal.
Then Draco heard a voice. Harry's voice, calling his name. He looked over at Harry, but he was lying still, sleeping, that evil ring clutched in his hands.
"Draco." Yes, it was Harry's voice, but Harry hadn't moved. The voice was coming from somewhere else, somewhere all around him. It was coming from everywhere … and nowhere.
Am I dreaming? Draco wondered.
"Draco!"
Draco's eyes fluttered open to see Harry. Always Harry.
"Where's the ring?" Draco asked, looking at Harry's empty hands, worried for his safety.
"What ring?" Harry asked.
Draco scowled. "You know very well what ring," Draco said. "It's evil, and you have to get rid of it."
Harry began to laugh, softly at first, gradually getting louder.
"What's so funny?" Draco asked, willing himself to wake up properly.
"I told you it wasn't a good idea to watch the entire trilogy in one go."
Draco looked confused, trying to work out what Harry was talking about.
"Lord of the Rings, Draco. We watched them -- all of them -- at your insistence yesterday. You must have been dreaming about it."
"What?" The fog began to clear, and Draco realised where he was. He felt the blood rush to his face. Harry chuckled.
"Laugh it up, ring boy," Draco said as he climbed out of bed.
Harry looked at him, still chortling. "One question, though."
"Hmm?"
"You don't think I actually look like him -- like Frodo -- do you?"
Draco pondered that. "You mean besides the hairy feet and short stature?"
"Yeah." Harry rolled his eyes. "Besides that."
Draco took his time to respond, paying Harry back a little for laughing at him. "Relax, Scarhead," he finally said. "You're much sexier."
"Good." Harry's look of relief quickly morphed into something more predatory as he placed his hands on Draco's hips and pulled him close.
"Just so you know," Harry said as he placed kisses on Draco's neck, "if ever you want to bring that little dream of yours to life --" Harry pulled back, gave Draco a thorough once-over, then leaned in to nip at his ear. "-- I think you'd make a really hot Legolas."