h/d recs (aka i do actually read shit not written by maya)
OKAY, I OFFICIALLY WANT THIS REC LIST TAKEN OUT OF MY HANDS. so i'm posting it.
maya is conspicuously absent from this list, because i'd meant for it to be H/D FIC OTHER THAN MAYA THAT PEOPLE SHOULD READ, but if you haven't read maya's h/d stuff, do it now, go, scram, get outta here, you'll thank me later. don't know where to start? here are my suggestions. also, here's a list of main pairings for each fic so that you don't end up reading mcgonagall/flitwick without meaning to.
and we are at our apogee | angelgazing | PG13
Draco thinks about the hard parts of revenge.
comments: an old favorite. i mostly love this one for the idea.
but not for love | fictualities | PG
"You're dead," Harry observes.
"All the best people are."
Harry knows he is supposed to laugh, but he just nods. "Yeah. They are," he says. He has a list. It's a long list.
Draco rolls his eyes. "You used to be more fun."
comments: kill me. that's an order, not a request.
draco under glass | pushdragon | NC17
Malfoy only continues to watch him and wait. It occurs to Harry that uncomfortable questions come easier from the mouths of men in glasses. The lenses shelter Malfoy's eyes, taking the hardness out of them, and the fine silver frames with strands of white hair brushing over them by his temples put a scholarly cast on his face. With his stillness and the visual harmony of his white skin and simple black robes, Malfoy has put himself out of reach of Harry's anger. He wonders if Malfoy himself understands how effective a shield it is.
comments: HELLO, PUSHDRAGON FIC. you will see this author crop up on this list a lot, because their work is uh-may-zing, and fiercely and exquisitely character driven. oh, and the porn is first rate.
étude: a lesson in voice (sequel to nocturne for quill and ink) | pushdragon | NC17
On the mornings when Draco pulls things out of the cupboards, sorts out the piles in the hallway, and starts putting it all into boxes, Harry takes refuge in the bedroom. On the first day, Harry throws a mug at him when he opens the door, hard enough to shatter into splinters and keep him out for the whole day and night. On the second day, he pulls Draco onto the bed and subjects him to the sort of brutally thorough handjob that leaves him wrapping himself around Harry's body, panting and begging. The subsequent days fall somewhere in between.
The house is full of stacked boxes. Only the kitchen cupboards remain to be emptied.
comments: i was nervous when i read this because its predecessor, nocturne for quill and ink, is one of my favorite h/d fics ever, and i was loathe to see the fragile ambiguity of the ending give way to something too light, or too neat. i really needn't have worried.
harry potter and the inconvenient condition | mirabella | R
"You're at St. Mungo's," Malfoy told him. "Granger drafted me to sit with you at night, seeing as how I'm a day or so from being released anyway - well, and I think she hopes you'll kill me -"
Harry shook his head, wishing he knew where his glasses were. "Wait, that I'll what? What in buggery have you done now, Malfoy? And why am I strapped to the bed?"
Malfoy looked vaguely annoyed. "I haven't done anything, Potter. You were the one stupid enough to get drunk and go wandering around alone at night in the shadow of the Carpathians. And as to why you're strapped to the bed…" Malfoy smirked and tossed Harry his glasses, waited while Harry fumbled them onto his face, and then lifted his wrist and turned it toward the candlelight. His skin was so very pale, transparent as alabaster, and underneath it, limned with faint blue lines…
Thirsty. Oh, Jesus, Harry was thirsty, and Draco was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. His hand shot out before he could stop it, yanked to a halt by the straps with Malfoy's wrist half an inch from his outstretched fingertips.
"That's why," Malfoy said quietly, and for once he didn't sound mocking.
comments: LOL THIS FIC. harry, through an unfortunate turn of events, is a vampire. with a special thirst for draco's blood. no, shut up, it's enjoyable! also i've always been a fan of mirabella's characterization, particularly her draco.
istanbul was | pushdragon | G
Byzantium, after all, took the name of one man upon itself and flourished.
comments: mostly throwing this in here because it's the most exquisite "proposal fic" i've ever read.
lamp in the cooling room | sansa1970 | PG13
"Leave it to you to see divinity in a bedraggled child."
"What better place? You tell me."
comments: FUCK THIS FIC. i read it once when i was hormonal and basically curled up into a sniveling ball afterwards and wanted to die. then i read it again when i was feeling more level-headed to make sure my reaction the first time wasn't a fluke. (it wasn't.) it's sort of sparse, but it holds up.
never mind the bollocks, it's draco/harry (shake your groove thing) | duinn fionn | PG13
"You... you're a Veela," Harry exclaimed, deeply worried at the obvious direction this story was taking.
"Half-Veela, actually. And half-dragon. And half-ferret Animagus."
"That's three halves."
"Well, they don't teach maths at Hogwarts, so don't blame me. Anyway, you're very astute, Potter. Was it the fact that my milkshake brought all the boys to the yard?"
comments: PURE, SHAMELESS CRACK/PARODY FIC.
nocturne for quill and ink | pushdragon | NC17
The note is written in Draco's sharp-edged scrawl. Its steep downward slant suggests negligence, as if he'd written it while holding something more important in the other hand. It lies on the dining room table - a battered hulk of oakwood run aground against the wall between the windows that look onto the laneway. Draco has shoved back the debris of stained teacups, discarded letters and slag-heaps of old Prophets to make a bare border around the note, so it can't be missed.
comments: hands down one of my favorite h/d fics ever. i could say this about pretty much every fic written by this author, but seriously, it is exquisite. the characterization is so good it makes me want to weep.
...so this is where mirabella's shadow of his wings would go if her fic archive site were still active (even the wayback machine won't work, believe me, i tried). since it's not on her dreamwidth account either (which is where i managed to find "inconvenient condition," listed above) and she's expressly asked people not to repost her fic (which i assume includes providing a download link), we are tragically out of luck. R.I.P. THAT BEAUTIFUL UNFINISHED WIP.
still life | monochromal | PG
"I want to know if you'll follow me," he whispers, and slips out to his left-sideways, moonlit, like a flash of silver. For once in this twisted frame-to-frame existence, he is alive. He can already feel the heat, the fire. And maybe, for the first time since he opened his eyes to the dim stone of the memorial, since he felt the disconcerting feeling of waking in a world of nothing but paint, maybe he forgives Draco.
comments: absolutely had to include this one. the author has long since deleted their journal, hence why i put it up over at my box.net account. it's a very, very early fic, written years ago, so it's not really compliant with a lot of the canon. harry and draco are dead, but immortalized as portraits, much to harry's distaste. if i had to sum this fic up in one word it'd be: poignant.
A TALE OF HORNS SERIES:
1/4. a tale of horns: the inaugural tongues of fire photographic wall calendar | pushdragon | NC17
"Is that all you want to do? Fritter away the last of your family's money on crazy stunts?"
"Until I run out of challenges," Draco snapped back. He could feel his jaw going rigid, along with all the tendons in his face.
"Don't," Potter said and kissed him.
This time, concentrating, Potter was good at it. Better than good. He kissed like it was an erotic act in itself, more than just an introduction to something more carnal. His tongue lingered in Draco's mouth. His body raising itself over Draco's once more was a heat source in the cooling air.
In the end it was Draco who gave in to impatience and slid his hand back into the open front of Potter's trousers. Their murmurs met in Potter's mouth when he cradled Potter's slack length and worked it towards hardness. But Draco needed more than a grope this time. Needed to see everything that Potter had, get it out in the open, claim it, suck it, rub himself into it. Potter's hand followed his shoulder as he scrambled down the ottoman and guided the tip of Potter's cock between his lips. That got him a very satisfying shudder and, with it, a realisation. Once was never going to be enough, not for any of this. He liked the way Potter moved. He liked the way Potter smelled. He liked the way Potter didn't stop being Potter when he fucked.
2/4. mating rituals of the winged predator: how mr. february got almost everything he wanted (sequel to a tale of horns) | pushdragon | NC17
He knew how he wanted it to be. He wanted Potter like he'd got him by the end of that afternoon of the photo shoot - drunk on sex to the point where there was no glimmer of self-control left in him, drifting and trailing on Draco's whim. Holding nothing back. Giving himself over completely to pleasure. That's how Draco wanted him, and when he'd got him to that point, Draco was going to fuck him. And Potter would be so out of it he'd barely even remember how Draco had done it; all he'd know is that an hour later his hands were still shaking and his hips were still jerking to the rhythm of Draco's thrusts and he had never, ever felt so empty in his life as he did without the stroke of Draco's cock in him. That's how Draco wanted it. But he had to admit, there were about a hundred other ways he was prepared to accept it.
3/4. claws that catch: the fierce beast in his lair (sequel to mating rituals of the winged predator) | pushdragon | NC17
A couple of Potter's limbs cracked as he stretched out by Draco's side. He bent his face down close, questioning. Draco couldn't - he couldn't let Potter kiss him right now, not when he didn't have the slightest defence in place. He dragged one hand out from behind his head and laid his fingertips on Potter's lips. Potter's breath slipped between them, warm and slow. He took two of Draco's fingers gently between his teeth and let his eyes fall closed and seemed content with that. His eyebrows were a wretched mess and his lashes clumped together with moisture, the product of exertion and all that abuse of his gag reflex. He was really just a little bit pathetic in his eagerness. Draco drew his fingers free as Potter's forehead descended to rest in the crook of his neck. He even allowed the possessive drape of Potter's leg over his own.
4/4. dragon riding for beginners: how the cover boy finally got it (sequel to claws that catch) | pushdragon | NC17
This was a temporary arrangement, even if a mere two nights in a hotel bed in Brasov had been a long enough absence to make his pulse quicken just now as he approached Potter's front door. He could have come round the back way, through Toad's Eye Lane, like everybody else. But he liked this door with its short journey through Muggle streets in his slightly inappropriate clothes. He liked having a doorway that was all his own. He liked the little foyer inside the door, with the quiet company of Potter's coats on their pegs as Potter's arms slid around his neck and he got his first taste of a long night of Potter's mouth. He was even quite fond of the strips of blue and red stained glass that flanked the doorway, which, for a few select minutes in the early evening, might dapple Potter's left hip in colour as Draco backed him into the wall and undressed him.
comments: A TALE OF HORNS SERIES. THE MOST CHARACTER-DRIVEN EXCUSE FOR PORN YOU WILL EVER READ. seriously, like i said, this author sets the standard for porn (5,000 word blowjobs, etc), and yet it isn't just porn for the sake of porn - it drives the story forward in a very real way because it's so rooted in character. UGH. JUST, SO GREAT.
trajectories | bookshop | PG
"You don't know where he is, do you," said Harry.
Malfoy shrugged. "He's somewhere in the castle," he said. "He's got to be. There's only the one painting."
Harry thought about how many paintings there were in the castle, how many places there were to hide if you were a painting who didn't want to be found, and only one person in the whole world wanted to find you.
"He wanted to kill you," Harry said. "Before he started the fire."
"Get lost, Potter," said Malfoy, without much heat. He reached out and ran his finger along the edge of the empty portrait, collecting dust from the frame. "I've wanted to kill you plenty of times."
comments: this is really gen fic with a side of h/d, but it's amazing, and a little haunting, and a little heartbreaking, and very poignant.
the virtues of the common cold | sheafrotherdon | PG
“Please don’t leave wet spots on my plasterwork,” he asked, pushing Harry into the bedroom. “Find something to wear. Pyjamas are in the third drawer down. I’m making tea.”
“Pyjamas?” asked Harry fuzzily.
Draco sighed. “You have a cold, Potter. Should you attempt to Apparate now you’ll only splinch yourself, so you clearly can’t go home. You’re freezing and soaked to the skin and I refuse to have my somewhat-significant-other die because he was insane enough to actually walk. In public. Among the working classes.” He gestured with an elegant hand. “Find clothes. Never wear corduroy to my house again. And shut up.”
“Snob,” muttered Harry, without any real rancour.
comments: another one of my favorite authors back in the day, though chiefly for her sirius/remus stuff (yeah, go check that shit out).
wheels of fire (the official autobiography of harry potter) | captain_tulip | R
"What do you want?"
Harry sighs. "I don't want embellishments. I don't want to be shown as - as the hero. I mean, strangely enough, I sort of want what you said." Malfoy raises an eyebrow but Harry keeps pushing through, determined to get his point across. "I want people to know that I didn't have friends as a child, that I was a spindly backwards boy. That when I arrived at Hogwarts I was weird and crap at Potions and didn't get on with people. I want people to know that there was a lot of luck involved in what happened with my life, that I was helped extraordinarily by other people, that there's stuff about me that isn't amazing and marvellous. That I fumbled through life just like everyone else, and there were plenty of people who were smarter than me and stronger than me and who deserved to live more than I did but died anyway. I want people to see that I'm just a person."
"But at the same time maintain that sense of superiority so that they don't come up to you in the street and try to relate, right?"
"No!" Harry says, scandalised. Then. "Wait, can you do that?"
Malfoy shrugs. "Sure. If you want." He places his quill on his lap and leans forward. "Because honestly, Potter, you think things are bad now? Wait till they discover you're a 'real person'. You'll never get away." This thought appears to amuse Malfoy, and with a sudden start he throws his head back and lets out a raucous laugh.
comments: this fic is just straight up cute. again, a little more rushed in terms of build up than i like (as with most stories written for h/d fic fests, frankly), but good!
NOTE: this is in no way a comprehensive h/d rec list. these are a few i enjoy (a couple of them i'd like to take with me to my grave). generally you can find pretty good fare on comms such as hd_holidays, hd_worldcup, and the_eros_affair.
maya is conspicuously absent from this list, because i'd meant for it to be H/D FIC OTHER THAN MAYA THAT PEOPLE SHOULD READ, but if you haven't read maya's h/d stuff, do it now, go, scram, get outta here, you'll thank me later. don't know where to start? here are my suggestions. also, here's a list of main pairings for each fic so that you don't end up reading mcgonagall/flitwick without meaning to.
and we are at our apogee | angelgazing | PG13
Draco thinks about the hard parts of revenge.
comments: an old favorite. i mostly love this one for the idea.
but not for love | fictualities | PG
"You're dead," Harry observes.
"All the best people are."
Harry knows he is supposed to laugh, but he just nods. "Yeah. They are," he says. He has a list. It's a long list.
Draco rolls his eyes. "You used to be more fun."
comments: kill me. that's an order, not a request.
draco under glass | pushdragon | NC17
Malfoy only continues to watch him and wait. It occurs to Harry that uncomfortable questions come easier from the mouths of men in glasses. The lenses shelter Malfoy's eyes, taking the hardness out of them, and the fine silver frames with strands of white hair brushing over them by his temples put a scholarly cast on his face. With his stillness and the visual harmony of his white skin and simple black robes, Malfoy has put himself out of reach of Harry's anger. He wonders if Malfoy himself understands how effective a shield it is.
comments: HELLO, PUSHDRAGON FIC. you will see this author crop up on this list a lot, because their work is uh-may-zing, and fiercely and exquisitely character driven. oh, and the porn is first rate.
étude: a lesson in voice (sequel to nocturne for quill and ink) | pushdragon | NC17
On the mornings when Draco pulls things out of the cupboards, sorts out the piles in the hallway, and starts putting it all into boxes, Harry takes refuge in the bedroom. On the first day, Harry throws a mug at him when he opens the door, hard enough to shatter into splinters and keep him out for the whole day and night. On the second day, he pulls Draco onto the bed and subjects him to the sort of brutally thorough handjob that leaves him wrapping himself around Harry's body, panting and begging. The subsequent days fall somewhere in between.
The house is full of stacked boxes. Only the kitchen cupboards remain to be emptied.
comments: i was nervous when i read this because its predecessor, nocturne for quill and ink, is one of my favorite h/d fics ever, and i was loathe to see the fragile ambiguity of the ending give way to something too light, or too neat. i really needn't have worried.
harry potter and the inconvenient condition | mirabella | R
"You're at St. Mungo's," Malfoy told him. "Granger drafted me to sit with you at night, seeing as how I'm a day or so from being released anyway - well, and I think she hopes you'll kill me -"
Harry shook his head, wishing he knew where his glasses were. "Wait, that I'll what? What in buggery have you done now, Malfoy? And why am I strapped to the bed?"
Malfoy looked vaguely annoyed. "I haven't done anything, Potter. You were the one stupid enough to get drunk and go wandering around alone at night in the shadow of the Carpathians. And as to why you're strapped to the bed…" Malfoy smirked and tossed Harry his glasses, waited while Harry fumbled them onto his face, and then lifted his wrist and turned it toward the candlelight. His skin was so very pale, transparent as alabaster, and underneath it, limned with faint blue lines…
Thirsty. Oh, Jesus, Harry was thirsty, and Draco was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. His hand shot out before he could stop it, yanked to a halt by the straps with Malfoy's wrist half an inch from his outstretched fingertips.
"That's why," Malfoy said quietly, and for once he didn't sound mocking.
comments: LOL THIS FIC. harry, through an unfortunate turn of events, is a vampire. with a special thirst for draco's blood. no, shut up, it's enjoyable! also i've always been a fan of mirabella's characterization, particularly her draco.
istanbul was | pushdragon | G
Byzantium, after all, took the name of one man upon itself and flourished.
comments: mostly throwing this in here because it's the most exquisite "proposal fic" i've ever read.
lamp in the cooling room | sansa1970 | PG13
"Leave it to you to see divinity in a bedraggled child."
"What better place? You tell me."
comments: FUCK THIS FIC. i read it once when i was hormonal and basically curled up into a sniveling ball afterwards and wanted to die. then i read it again when i was feeling more level-headed to make sure my reaction the first time wasn't a fluke. (it wasn't.) it's sort of sparse, but it holds up.
never mind the bollocks, it's draco/harry (shake your groove thing) | duinn fionn | PG13
"You... you're a Veela," Harry exclaimed, deeply worried at the obvious direction this story was taking.
"Half-Veela, actually. And half-dragon. And half-ferret Animagus."
"That's three halves."
"Well, they don't teach maths at Hogwarts, so don't blame me. Anyway, you're very astute, Potter. Was it the fact that my milkshake brought all the boys to the yard?"
comments: PURE, SHAMELESS CRACK/PARODY FIC.
nocturne for quill and ink | pushdragon | NC17
The note is written in Draco's sharp-edged scrawl. Its steep downward slant suggests negligence, as if he'd written it while holding something more important in the other hand. It lies on the dining room table - a battered hulk of oakwood run aground against the wall between the windows that look onto the laneway. Draco has shoved back the debris of stained teacups, discarded letters and slag-heaps of old Prophets to make a bare border around the note, so it can't be missed.
comments: hands down one of my favorite h/d fics ever. i could say this about pretty much every fic written by this author, but seriously, it is exquisite. the characterization is so good it makes me want to weep.
...so this is where mirabella's shadow of his wings would go if her fic archive site were still active (even the wayback machine won't work, believe me, i tried). since it's not on her dreamwidth account either (which is where i managed to find "inconvenient condition," listed above) and she's expressly asked people not to repost her fic (which i assume includes providing a download link), we are tragically out of luck. R.I.P. THAT BEAUTIFUL UNFINISHED WIP.
still life | monochromal | PG
"I want to know if you'll follow me," he whispers, and slips out to his left-sideways, moonlit, like a flash of silver. For once in this twisted frame-to-frame existence, he is alive. He can already feel the heat, the fire. And maybe, for the first time since he opened his eyes to the dim stone of the memorial, since he felt the disconcerting feeling of waking in a world of nothing but paint, maybe he forgives Draco.
comments: absolutely had to include this one. the author has long since deleted their journal, hence why i put it up over at my box.net account. it's a very, very early fic, written years ago, so it's not really compliant with a lot of the canon. harry and draco are dead, but immortalized as portraits, much to harry's distaste. if i had to sum this fic up in one word it'd be: poignant.
A TALE OF HORNS SERIES:
1/4. a tale of horns: the inaugural tongues of fire photographic wall calendar | pushdragon | NC17
"Is that all you want to do? Fritter away the last of your family's money on crazy stunts?"
"Until I run out of challenges," Draco snapped back. He could feel his jaw going rigid, along with all the tendons in his face.
"Don't," Potter said and kissed him.
This time, concentrating, Potter was good at it. Better than good. He kissed like it was an erotic act in itself, more than just an introduction to something more carnal. His tongue lingered in Draco's mouth. His body raising itself over Draco's once more was a heat source in the cooling air.
In the end it was Draco who gave in to impatience and slid his hand back into the open front of Potter's trousers. Their murmurs met in Potter's mouth when he cradled Potter's slack length and worked it towards hardness. But Draco needed more than a grope this time. Needed to see everything that Potter had, get it out in the open, claim it, suck it, rub himself into it. Potter's hand followed his shoulder as he scrambled down the ottoman and guided the tip of Potter's cock between his lips. That got him a very satisfying shudder and, with it, a realisation. Once was never going to be enough, not for any of this. He liked the way Potter moved. He liked the way Potter smelled. He liked the way Potter didn't stop being Potter when he fucked.
2/4. mating rituals of the winged predator: how mr. february got almost everything he wanted (sequel to a tale of horns) | pushdragon | NC17
He knew how he wanted it to be. He wanted Potter like he'd got him by the end of that afternoon of the photo shoot - drunk on sex to the point where there was no glimmer of self-control left in him, drifting and trailing on Draco's whim. Holding nothing back. Giving himself over completely to pleasure. That's how Draco wanted him, and when he'd got him to that point, Draco was going to fuck him. And Potter would be so out of it he'd barely even remember how Draco had done it; all he'd know is that an hour later his hands were still shaking and his hips were still jerking to the rhythm of Draco's thrusts and he had never, ever felt so empty in his life as he did without the stroke of Draco's cock in him. That's how Draco wanted it. But he had to admit, there were about a hundred other ways he was prepared to accept it.
3/4. claws that catch: the fierce beast in his lair (sequel to mating rituals of the winged predator) | pushdragon | NC17
A couple of Potter's limbs cracked as he stretched out by Draco's side. He bent his face down close, questioning. Draco couldn't - he couldn't let Potter kiss him right now, not when he didn't have the slightest defence in place. He dragged one hand out from behind his head and laid his fingertips on Potter's lips. Potter's breath slipped between them, warm and slow. He took two of Draco's fingers gently between his teeth and let his eyes fall closed and seemed content with that. His eyebrows were a wretched mess and his lashes clumped together with moisture, the product of exertion and all that abuse of his gag reflex. He was really just a little bit pathetic in his eagerness. Draco drew his fingers free as Potter's forehead descended to rest in the crook of his neck. He even allowed the possessive drape of Potter's leg over his own.
4/4. dragon riding for beginners: how the cover boy finally got it (sequel to claws that catch) | pushdragon | NC17
This was a temporary arrangement, even if a mere two nights in a hotel bed in Brasov had been a long enough absence to make his pulse quicken just now as he approached Potter's front door. He could have come round the back way, through Toad's Eye Lane, like everybody else. But he liked this door with its short journey through Muggle streets in his slightly inappropriate clothes. He liked having a doorway that was all his own. He liked the little foyer inside the door, with the quiet company of Potter's coats on their pegs as Potter's arms slid around his neck and he got his first taste of a long night of Potter's mouth. He was even quite fond of the strips of blue and red stained glass that flanked the doorway, which, for a few select minutes in the early evening, might dapple Potter's left hip in colour as Draco backed him into the wall and undressed him.
comments: A TALE OF HORNS SERIES. THE MOST CHARACTER-DRIVEN EXCUSE FOR PORN YOU WILL EVER READ. seriously, like i said, this author sets the standard for porn (5,000 word blowjobs, etc), and yet it isn't just porn for the sake of porn - it drives the story forward in a very real way because it's so rooted in character. UGH. JUST, SO GREAT.
trajectories | bookshop | PG
"You don't know where he is, do you," said Harry.
Malfoy shrugged. "He's somewhere in the castle," he said. "He's got to be. There's only the one painting."
Harry thought about how many paintings there were in the castle, how many places there were to hide if you were a painting who didn't want to be found, and only one person in the whole world wanted to find you.
"He wanted to kill you," Harry said. "Before he started the fire."
"Get lost, Potter," said Malfoy, without much heat. He reached out and ran his finger along the edge of the empty portrait, collecting dust from the frame. "I've wanted to kill you plenty of times."
comments: this is really gen fic with a side of h/d, but it's amazing, and a little haunting, and a little heartbreaking, and very poignant.
the virtues of the common cold | sheafrotherdon | PG
“Please don’t leave wet spots on my plasterwork,” he asked, pushing Harry into the bedroom. “Find something to wear. Pyjamas are in the third drawer down. I’m making tea.”
“Pyjamas?” asked Harry fuzzily.
Draco sighed. “You have a cold, Potter. Should you attempt to Apparate now you’ll only splinch yourself, so you clearly can’t go home. You’re freezing and soaked to the skin and I refuse to have my somewhat-significant-other die because he was insane enough to actually walk. In public. Among the working classes.” He gestured with an elegant hand. “Find clothes. Never wear corduroy to my house again. And shut up.”
“Snob,” muttered Harry, without any real rancour.
comments: another one of my favorite authors back in the day, though chiefly for her sirius/remus stuff (yeah, go check that shit out).
wheels of fire (the official autobiography of harry potter) | captain_tulip | R
"What do you want?"
Harry sighs. "I don't want embellishments. I don't want to be shown as - as the hero. I mean, strangely enough, I sort of want what you said." Malfoy raises an eyebrow but Harry keeps pushing through, determined to get his point across. "I want people to know that I didn't have friends as a child, that I was a spindly backwards boy. That when I arrived at Hogwarts I was weird and crap at Potions and didn't get on with people. I want people to know that there was a lot of luck involved in what happened with my life, that I was helped extraordinarily by other people, that there's stuff about me that isn't amazing and marvellous. That I fumbled through life just like everyone else, and there were plenty of people who were smarter than me and stronger than me and who deserved to live more than I did but died anyway. I want people to see that I'm just a person."
"But at the same time maintain that sense of superiority so that they don't come up to you in the street and try to relate, right?"
"No!" Harry says, scandalised. Then. "Wait, can you do that?"
Malfoy shrugs. "Sure. If you want." He places his quill on his lap and leans forward. "Because honestly, Potter, you think things are bad now? Wait till they discover you're a 'real person'. You'll never get away." This thought appears to amuse Malfoy, and with a sudden start he throws his head back and lets out a raucous laugh.
comments: this fic is just straight up cute. again, a little more rushed in terms of build up than i like (as with most stories written for h/d fic fests, frankly), but good!
NOTE: this is in no way a comprehensive h/d rec list. these are a few i enjoy (a couple of them i'd like to take with me to my grave). generally you can find pretty good fare on comms such as hd_holidays, hd_worldcup, and the_eros_affair.