Series: Anything You Can Do (9/?)
Title: Anything You Can Do (9/?)
Episode: #9 - Best Laid Plans
Rating: R - for now
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Disclaimer: The characters of Harry Potter aren't mine. I just like making them shag each other. A lot.
Summary: Being the resident 'it-boy' of the Wizarding World, Draco doesn't appreciate it when Ron Weasley stumbles into the scene and steals all his coverage. This means war.
Notes: An on-going Ron/Draco, that'll be updated almost every other day.
Link:
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Anything You Can Do (9/?)
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“Did you give it to him?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure he drank it?”
“It’s Weasley. Of course he did.”
“… you mean you didn’t watch him?!”
“Lucifer on a broomstick, Draco, what did you want me to do, force it down his throat? And would you take that ridiculous cloak off? You look as conspicuous as You-Know-Who finger-painting in a nursery.”
“Finger-painting is common,” Draco returned in a snobby, matter-of-fact voice but he lowered his hood anyway. He had already been mistaken for a dementor by those Creevy imbeciles and, as fun as it had been chasing them out of the building, he was depriving the world of his good looks.
Blaise, standing next to him and idly looking him over, didn’t look very impressed by the view.
“This isn’t going to work, you know,” he said for what had to be the ninth time that hour. His voice was light and conversational and it grated on every one of Draco’s nerves. Bristling like an angry kneazle with its fur on end, Draco practically hissed at the other man.
“Shut up, Blaise,” he snapped.
Blaise, never one to do as he was told, merely continued to speak.
“I’m just saying, Draco…” his tinkle of a voice carried on, his white teeth bright against his dark skin as his mouth curled at the corners. “This is totally and utterly going to blow up in your face.”
“Only if you fucked up along the way,” Draco sneered, briefly wondering why on earth they were friends when all they did was snipe. “Did you get Potter’s hair?”
Blaise nodded smoothly, picking a bit of invisible lint off of his impeccable robes.
“Yes.”
“And did you put it in the potion?”
Blaise pretended to think about it before eventually shrugging a cool shoulder and conceding,
“I did.”
“And did the concoction go pink?”
Blaise tapped his index finger on his lip, attempting to look thoughtful.
“I’d say it was more puce in hue but yes.”
“Then it bloody well worked,” Draco finished with a glare that warranted no argument. “Now stop irritating me and be quiet while I bask in my own brilliance.”
“Yes, sir,” Blaise drawled mordantly before snagging a salmon entrée from a passing cater waiter. Nibbling at the appetiser and watching the bathroom door with his shrewd, albeit bored, eyes, Blaise finally enquired, “How long do we have to wait here before we snap this picture of them? I do have things to do, you know.”
Wearing a smile so slow and mean that just a look could reduce a baby to tears, Draco swiftly pulled out his wand and cast “Lumos!”.
“Oh, I expect they’ve had long enough. After three… as soon as I open the bathroom door, you snap, understood?”
Blaise, holding Colin Creevy’s discarded camera aloft in his hand, snorted. “It’s not exactly Advanced Arithmancy, Malfoy, but yes, understood.”
“Good. One…” Draco’s face looked maliciously delighted. “Two… Three!”
Slamming the door open with Blaise at his elbow, Draco bounded forward with glee and hungrily scanned the room with his lit wand, expecting to illuminate the filthiest, most debauched scene of rutting ever imaginable.
What he didn’t expect, however, was to see a confused Harry Potter halfway across the room while a half-naked, rather shimmery Ron Weasley launched himself at Draco, knocking them both to the ground.
“Weasley, what the hell?!” he demanded in his most imperious and disgusted voice (this was the floor of a public toilet, after all), struggling to push the rather slippery redhead away. “Get off me, you pauper! Is that body glitter?! What the fuck do you think you’re-”
However, when Weasley’s large hands practically ripped Draco’s cloak from his body a second later, Draco knew exactly what the ‘fuck’ Weasley was trying to do. Him.
“Blaise!” Draco screeched with mortification, flailing backwards and trying to escape as Weasley careered into him like a horny canon ball. “Do something!”
The camera in Blaise’s hand let out a flash just as Weasley lips latched hungrily onto Draco’s and that really wasn’t what Draco had meant at all.
previous episode - next episode
Episode: #9 - Best Laid Plans
Rating: R - for now
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Disclaimer: The characters of Harry Potter aren't mine. I just like making them shag each other. A lot.
Summary: Being the resident 'it-boy' of the Wizarding World, Draco doesn't appreciate it when Ron Weasley stumbles into the scene and steals all his coverage. This means war.
Notes: An on-going Ron/Draco, that'll be updated almost every other day.
Link:
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Anything You Can Do (9/?)
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
previous episode - next episode
“Did you give it to him?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure he drank it?”
“It’s Weasley. Of course he did.”
“… you mean you didn’t watch him?!”
“Lucifer on a broomstick, Draco, what did you want me to do, force it down his throat? And would you take that ridiculous cloak off? You look as conspicuous as You-Know-Who finger-painting in a nursery.”
“Finger-painting is common,” Draco returned in a snobby, matter-of-fact voice but he lowered his hood anyway. He had already been mistaken for a dementor by those Creevy imbeciles and, as fun as it had been chasing them out of the building, he was depriving the world of his good looks.
Blaise, standing next to him and idly looking him over, didn’t look very impressed by the view.
“This isn’t going to work, you know,” he said for what had to be the ninth time that hour. His voice was light and conversational and it grated on every one of Draco’s nerves. Bristling like an angry kneazle with its fur on end, Draco practically hissed at the other man.
“Shut up, Blaise,” he snapped.
Blaise, never one to do as he was told, merely continued to speak.
“I’m just saying, Draco…” his tinkle of a voice carried on, his white teeth bright against his dark skin as his mouth curled at the corners. “This is totally and utterly going to blow up in your face.”
“Only if you fucked up along the way,” Draco sneered, briefly wondering why on earth they were friends when all they did was snipe. “Did you get Potter’s hair?”
Blaise nodded smoothly, picking a bit of invisible lint off of his impeccable robes.
“Yes.”
“And did you put it in the potion?”
Blaise pretended to think about it before eventually shrugging a cool shoulder and conceding,
“I did.”
“And did the concoction go pink?”
Blaise tapped his index finger on his lip, attempting to look thoughtful.
“I’d say it was more puce in hue but yes.”
“Then it bloody well worked,” Draco finished with a glare that warranted no argument. “Now stop irritating me and be quiet while I bask in my own brilliance.”
“Yes, sir,” Blaise drawled mordantly before snagging a salmon entrée from a passing cater waiter. Nibbling at the appetiser and watching the bathroom door with his shrewd, albeit bored, eyes, Blaise finally enquired, “How long do we have to wait here before we snap this picture of them? I do have things to do, you know.”
Wearing a smile so slow and mean that just a look could reduce a baby to tears, Draco swiftly pulled out his wand and cast “Lumos!”.
“Oh, I expect they’ve had long enough. After three… as soon as I open the bathroom door, you snap, understood?”
Blaise, holding Colin Creevy’s discarded camera aloft in his hand, snorted. “It’s not exactly Advanced Arithmancy, Malfoy, but yes, understood.”
“Good. One…” Draco’s face looked maliciously delighted. “Two… Three!”
Slamming the door open with Blaise at his elbow, Draco bounded forward with glee and hungrily scanned the room with his lit wand, expecting to illuminate the filthiest, most debauched scene of rutting ever imaginable.
What he didn’t expect, however, was to see a confused Harry Potter halfway across the room while a half-naked, rather shimmery Ron Weasley launched himself at Draco, knocking them both to the ground.
“Weasley, what the hell?!” he demanded in his most imperious and disgusted voice (this was the floor of a public toilet, after all), struggling to push the rather slippery redhead away. “Get off me, you pauper! Is that body glitter?! What the fuck do you think you’re-”
However, when Weasley’s large hands practically ripped Draco’s cloak from his body a second later, Draco knew exactly what the ‘fuck’ Weasley was trying to do. Him.
“Blaise!” Draco screeched with mortification, flailing backwards and trying to escape as Weasley careered into him like a horny canon ball. “Do something!”
The camera in Blaise’s hand let out a flash just as Weasley lips latched hungrily onto Draco’s and that really wasn’t what Draco had meant at all.
previous episode - next episode