HP Valentine Quickies: Life Advice- Part 3
Title: Life Advice- Part 3
Author: sugareey
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Harry/??? for this part
Rating: PG
Summary: Advice can come to you in some of the oddest ways.
Word count: 2,444
Disclaimer: All character belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury/Scholastic, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: Another series for the awdt Valentine Quickies. For the prompts, "dark secret love", "strangers in the night", "champagne and oysters" and "blind date". Enjoy!
Part 1 l Part 2
Harry was not having a good day. He had hardly slept all night and even if he had, it probably didn’t matter. All he could think about were soft lips, blond hair and those wonderful hands that had caressed him in his dreams. It was cold harsh reality that woke Harry up. Of course. Alone in his bed again.
It must have been a good month since Harry had last brought someone home. He never did have trouble finding anyone. But lately, he really couldn’t have cared less. He wanted more, a lot more. His mind began to wander back to his dream, trying to remember the details. There had been the tongue that trailed along his chest, down toward his navel and right to his-
“I need a shower,” Harry muttered, glancing down at himself briefly as he went to the bathroom.
After opening the door a half an hour later, Harry barely had his towel wrapped around his waist when he heard a loud knock on his door. He dismissed it though, as no one really came to visit him. Unless you counted Mrs. Goldstein from down the hall. She usually threw her cats into Harry’s flat when she needed to do errands, which was quite often. He really didn’t want to deal with the bloody animals today. But the knocking never ceased.
Harry gritted his teeth, ruffling up his damp hair before stalking into his room. He let his towel drop to the floor as he searched his closet for clean trousers. Pulling on a pair of denims, he rushed out into the main room in hopes to tell this person to sod off. He hated having visitors, especially when his flat wasn’t particularly clean. It just made him feel that much more alone, knowing that he didn’t have anyone to share it with.
So when Harry swung the door open a little too forcefully, he did not expect to see Dakin staring at him with wide eyes. To Harry’s surprise, Dakin cleaned up quite well, even if he did look like a soaked rat from the rain.
“Er, hi,” he said shyly.
“I see that you actually do get outdoors, despite the recent dismal weather,” commented Dakin with a slight blush. He ran his fingers through his wet hair so that a few locks fell in front of his eyes. “Bloody rain. It’s horrible outside.”
“At least I don’t need to go outside today then,” replied Harry simply, stepping aside to let Dakin in. “I’ve always been this tan, even in the winter. Probably from all the morning runs.”
“Like I couldn’t tell,” muttered Dakin under his breath, eying Harry from head to toe as he walked into the main room. He peeled off his trench coat, revealing a dark grey jumper that complimented his black trousers.
Harry blinked. Dakin had to know that he looked absolutely edible. And did Dakin actually look at him just now? He must have been imagining it. Here he was, already exposing himself to a bloke he hardly even knew. Harry didn’t want to give the impression that he was sloppy and lazy. Seeing his jacket draped on the arm of the sofa, he grabbed it and put it on.
“So what brings you here?” he asked, zipping the jacket up halfway. “And how did you know where I live?”
“Mrs. Goldstein talks about you all the time. She always says you’re a good chap to help someone out. Which, by the way, is true,” added Dakin, grinning. It’s difficult not to notice things.”
“You know Mrs. Goldstein?”
“Who doesn’t? I happen to run into her every time she has her bags of groceries. I bring them up for her. If there’s no one to listen to her, she’ll talk to herself. Always going on about her cats and how her husband used to prepare champagne and oysters for dinner every night.”
“I can hardly believe that,” said Harry, laughing lightly. “I’m sure her cats would like that. Then I wouldn’t have to keep tuna here to shut them up.”
“You watch her cats?” inquired Dakin with a sympathetic look, leaning against the doorframe.
“They haven’t made my shoes into cat nips yet. And I don’t have a choice. She’s an elderly woman. I can’t exactly say no to her.”
“True. But if she decides to give those beasts up one day…”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t adopt them, if that’s what you were going to say,” reassured Harry, plopping down onto the sofa. He patted the spot next to him. “You don’t have to stand, you know.”
Dakin crossed the room to sit down, his leg bumping against Harry’s in the process. Harry felt a strange jolt of electricity as he picked up the clicker and fiddled with it.
“So.”
“So, I thought I would just say hello to you,” began Dakin honestly. “And thank you again for the book. I actually read it all in one night. I forgot how fantastic that story is! Something to get wrapped up in.”
“I bet,” agreed Harry awkwardly. If only he were more of a reader. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“The ending is a bit tragic, but that’s how life works. There are good times and bad times. It depends if you want to get through it or not.”
Dakin’s words were enough to make Harry stop and think. Despite all of those who had died at the final battle against Voldemort, it hadn’t been enough for Harry to just survive afterward. He had needed a refuge so he could heal. Which was why he was in a flat in Dundee rather than Grimmauld Place.
Not trusting his voice, Harry could only nod as he turned the clicker in his hands. Just like last time, they let the silence take over conversation. It was a nice silence, where Harry didn’t feel obligated to talk if he didn’t want to. With Dakin, he felt comfortable.
When Harry got bored of the clicker and tossed it onto the coffee table, that was when Dakin spoke up. Apparently, he had noticed the parchment scattered on the surface.
“What’s this now?”
“Dakin, don’t-” started Harry frantically, reaching over to take both sheets back.
It was too late. Dakin scanned through each letter, turning each one over. Then he reread them again, this time more slowly. The more he read, the more he frowned. His lips formed into a thin line. It was almost like he was angry. This new side of Dakin was unsettling. It made Harry feel worse that this might have been his fault. He had never wanted to make Dakin angry at him. Harry liked Dakin.
His heart beat faster, his hands becoming clammy. Maybe Dakin thought Harry was an idiot. Why did he have to leave those stupid letters out? If Dakin was going to laugh at him, he would rather have him get it over with. Harry was already embarrassed enough and he didn’t need someone to make a fuss about having an admirer. But perhaps there was a reason why Dakin would be outraged by this whole scandal. Dakin had broken up with his boyfriend only two days ago. He probably resented Harry for even having someone who fancied him. It made sense.
“So you have a dark secret love,” stated Dakin coolly after what seemed like forever.
Harry looked up immediately, searching for some kind of emotion on Dakin’s face. But Dakin stared right back at him, his blue eyes darkening so much, they almost looked grey. His expression revealed nothing. He continued to look at Harry blankly, waiting for an answer.
“Um, I d-dunno,” Harry stammered, refusing to meet Dakin’s eyes. “I just started getting them. The letters, I mean. I don’t even know who they’re from.”
“I see.”
“It could be from anyone,” continued Harry quickly, clasping his hands together. “Maybe it’s a prank or something. Love letters. What a bunch of rubbish. Who would want to send letters to me anyway?”
“Maybe someone who fancies you,” answered Dakin sarcastically. He sighed. “Pranksters don’t impose requests to snog their victims. And these letters sound sincere enough to be real.”
“This could be a way just to humiliate me!” protested Harry. “This wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You almost make it seem like it’s atrocious for someone to like you for who you are.”
“I guess it’s hard to believe. This rarely happens to me.”
“There’s always a first time for everything, Harry,” murmured Dakin softly, getting up from the sofa. He glanced at Harry intensely before making his way to the door. “I should get going.”
“Yeah,” agreed Harry, wondering how the ease between them had suddenly turned into tension. “I guess I’ll see you.”
“Yes, I suppose I will.”
And then Dakin was gone. Harry stared at the open doorway. What just happened? One moment they were joking around and the next, it was like they had a row. Dakin was being ridiculous if he was going to let something small like love letters get to him. It wasn’t until Harry kicked the door shut that he realised Dakin still had them.
“Fuck!” Harry cursed furiously, kicking the door again for extra measure. He managed to stub his toe instead. “Damn it! That bastard!”
He groaned miserably, ignoring the pain he was in. He was not only clumsy, but also much stupider than he thought. It was no wonder he had so much trouble trusting people. They were all betrayers. Harry couldn’t believe Dakin would be one as well. Why had it been a good idea to comfort Dakin in the first place? Harry had been doing just fine without him. Now, Harry was just a right mess and confused as hell. Blackmail wasn’t exactly a threat, but it still offended him that Dakin had invaded his privacy like that.
Harry was contemplating whether hunt down Dakin to get the letters back when he heard a the tap against his window. He smacked his head with the palm of his hand. This was all he needed.
“Tell your master not to send any more messages,” he warned the tawny, taking the scroll from its leg. “It’s causing a lot of problems already. I can’t afford the neighbors to see you out in the day like this.”
The owl narrowed its eyes at him, nipping his finger before disappearing through the window.
“Seems like everything hates me today,” grumbled Harry, sucking on the wound. He glared at the letter, wishing it would catch on fire and burn.
He didn’t need more advice from someone he didn’t know. Why did it always have to be strangers that were always attracted to him? Strangers in the night, strangers of mystery. Whatever the hell they were. More like strangers who were total pillocks. Each and every one he had ever associated with since moving to Dundee. If there was one thing Harry learned, it was that wizards and Muggles were no different from each other.
But was the stranger behind his letters really a stranger at all? This person knew him, and Harry knew many people from the wizarding world, considering how many people he had allied with during the war. There had also been those at the funerals, but Harry disregarded those thoughts quickly. Who would waste their time watching his every move? And more or less disguised as a Muggle? Were they even disguised as a Muggle? There was always Polyjuice potion, but the Ministry had put restrictions on the ingredients to make it. Animagus? The thought of someone living as one of Mrs. Goldstein’s cats was creepy.
Harry picked up the message again, staring at it until it turned into a dark red carnation. No, that couldn’t be right. The last time he had done magic was three years ago. There were times when his magic would get a little out of control, but Harry had learned how to tame it. From what he could remember, staring at something did not transfigure it into something else.
He looked at the scroll in his hand. It changed into a carnation once more, before changing back into parchment. Finally, Harry opened up the letter. Everything froze as he read the words before him.
I didn’t know you were such a heartbreaker. That bloke that you helped out a couple of days ago left your building looking depressed all over again. You should have given him a break.
With that said, it almost intimidates me to ask a simple request from you. But let me explain.
I am sure you have been curious about my identity. By now, you would have figured out that I am not just anyone. I know you have heart. You’re a good person, even though you always put others before yourself. I have seen you, protecting those you don’t even know from their sorrows and evils. You want people to be safe and happy. But what do you want? Someone who is willing to do the same for you?
If this is so, let yourself be treated for dinner. There is new Thai restaurant next to the café. Wait by the bench nearby. Be there at seven o’clock.
I hope this is what you want. If it is, this message will turn into a carnation and stay that way once you finish reading this letter.
Sure enough, the parchment transformed into a carnation once more. Harry couldn’t help but raise it to his nose to smell it. It was lovely. Even the small gesture to give him the…had he just been asked on a blind date?
It was a shame he couldn’t reread the letter again. Whether or not he had been reading it correctly, he couldn’t help but admire the carnation. Harry went to the kitchen, opening random cabinets until he found a glass vase. Turning on the tap, he filled it up with water before dropping the flower in. This was quite a centerpiece. It would do for the coffee table.
Words played over and over in Harry’s mind as he examined the flower, taking in all the hues of red on its petals. Someone wanted to have dinner with him. Someone liked him, really liked him, and it wasn’t for sex or money. It was because he was Harry. Just Harry.
That was enough for Harry to decide what he was going to do. If this person really meant what they said, he would go meet him tonight. He needed something new in his life. And this would be perfect for that. Maybe to even gain a new love.
It was the only reason he smiled as he strolled into his room to change.
Part 4
Author: sugareey
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Harry/??? for this part
Rating: PG
Summary: Advice can come to you in some of the oddest ways.
Word count: 2,444
Disclaimer: All character belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury/Scholastic, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: Another series for the awdt Valentine Quickies. For the prompts, "dark secret love", "strangers in the night", "champagne and oysters" and "blind date". Enjoy!
Part 1 l Part 2
Harry was not having a good day. He had hardly slept all night and even if he had, it probably didn’t matter. All he could think about were soft lips, blond hair and those wonderful hands that had caressed him in his dreams. It was cold harsh reality that woke Harry up. Of course. Alone in his bed again.
It must have been a good month since Harry had last brought someone home. He never did have trouble finding anyone. But lately, he really couldn’t have cared less. He wanted more, a lot more. His mind began to wander back to his dream, trying to remember the details. There had been the tongue that trailed along his chest, down toward his navel and right to his-
“I need a shower,” Harry muttered, glancing down at himself briefly as he went to the bathroom.
After opening the door a half an hour later, Harry barely had his towel wrapped around his waist when he heard a loud knock on his door. He dismissed it though, as no one really came to visit him. Unless you counted Mrs. Goldstein from down the hall. She usually threw her cats into Harry’s flat when she needed to do errands, which was quite often. He really didn’t want to deal with the bloody animals today. But the knocking never ceased.
Harry gritted his teeth, ruffling up his damp hair before stalking into his room. He let his towel drop to the floor as he searched his closet for clean trousers. Pulling on a pair of denims, he rushed out into the main room in hopes to tell this person to sod off. He hated having visitors, especially when his flat wasn’t particularly clean. It just made him feel that much more alone, knowing that he didn’t have anyone to share it with.
So when Harry swung the door open a little too forcefully, he did not expect to see Dakin staring at him with wide eyes. To Harry’s surprise, Dakin cleaned up quite well, even if he did look like a soaked rat from the rain.
“Er, hi,” he said shyly.
“I see that you actually do get outdoors, despite the recent dismal weather,” commented Dakin with a slight blush. He ran his fingers through his wet hair so that a few locks fell in front of his eyes. “Bloody rain. It’s horrible outside.”
“At least I don’t need to go outside today then,” replied Harry simply, stepping aside to let Dakin in. “I’ve always been this tan, even in the winter. Probably from all the morning runs.”
“Like I couldn’t tell,” muttered Dakin under his breath, eying Harry from head to toe as he walked into the main room. He peeled off his trench coat, revealing a dark grey jumper that complimented his black trousers.
Harry blinked. Dakin had to know that he looked absolutely edible. And did Dakin actually look at him just now? He must have been imagining it. Here he was, already exposing himself to a bloke he hardly even knew. Harry didn’t want to give the impression that he was sloppy and lazy. Seeing his jacket draped on the arm of the sofa, he grabbed it and put it on.
“So what brings you here?” he asked, zipping the jacket up halfway. “And how did you know where I live?”
“Mrs. Goldstein talks about you all the time. She always says you’re a good chap to help someone out. Which, by the way, is true,” added Dakin, grinning. It’s difficult not to notice things.”
“You know Mrs. Goldstein?”
“Who doesn’t? I happen to run into her every time she has her bags of groceries. I bring them up for her. If there’s no one to listen to her, she’ll talk to herself. Always going on about her cats and how her husband used to prepare champagne and oysters for dinner every night.”
“I can hardly believe that,” said Harry, laughing lightly. “I’m sure her cats would like that. Then I wouldn’t have to keep tuna here to shut them up.”
“You watch her cats?” inquired Dakin with a sympathetic look, leaning against the doorframe.
“They haven’t made my shoes into cat nips yet. And I don’t have a choice. She’s an elderly woman. I can’t exactly say no to her.”
“True. But if she decides to give those beasts up one day…”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t adopt them, if that’s what you were going to say,” reassured Harry, plopping down onto the sofa. He patted the spot next to him. “You don’t have to stand, you know.”
Dakin crossed the room to sit down, his leg bumping against Harry’s in the process. Harry felt a strange jolt of electricity as he picked up the clicker and fiddled with it.
“So.”
“So, I thought I would just say hello to you,” began Dakin honestly. “And thank you again for the book. I actually read it all in one night. I forgot how fantastic that story is! Something to get wrapped up in.”
“I bet,” agreed Harry awkwardly. If only he were more of a reader. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“The ending is a bit tragic, but that’s how life works. There are good times and bad times. It depends if you want to get through it or not.”
Dakin’s words were enough to make Harry stop and think. Despite all of those who had died at the final battle against Voldemort, it hadn’t been enough for Harry to just survive afterward. He had needed a refuge so he could heal. Which was why he was in a flat in Dundee rather than Grimmauld Place.
Not trusting his voice, Harry could only nod as he turned the clicker in his hands. Just like last time, they let the silence take over conversation. It was a nice silence, where Harry didn’t feel obligated to talk if he didn’t want to. With Dakin, he felt comfortable.
When Harry got bored of the clicker and tossed it onto the coffee table, that was when Dakin spoke up. Apparently, he had noticed the parchment scattered on the surface.
“What’s this now?”
“Dakin, don’t-” started Harry frantically, reaching over to take both sheets back.
It was too late. Dakin scanned through each letter, turning each one over. Then he reread them again, this time more slowly. The more he read, the more he frowned. His lips formed into a thin line. It was almost like he was angry. This new side of Dakin was unsettling. It made Harry feel worse that this might have been his fault. He had never wanted to make Dakin angry at him. Harry liked Dakin.
His heart beat faster, his hands becoming clammy. Maybe Dakin thought Harry was an idiot. Why did he have to leave those stupid letters out? If Dakin was going to laugh at him, he would rather have him get it over with. Harry was already embarrassed enough and he didn’t need someone to make a fuss about having an admirer. But perhaps there was a reason why Dakin would be outraged by this whole scandal. Dakin had broken up with his boyfriend only two days ago. He probably resented Harry for even having someone who fancied him. It made sense.
“So you have a dark secret love,” stated Dakin coolly after what seemed like forever.
Harry looked up immediately, searching for some kind of emotion on Dakin’s face. But Dakin stared right back at him, his blue eyes darkening so much, they almost looked grey. His expression revealed nothing. He continued to look at Harry blankly, waiting for an answer.
“Um, I d-dunno,” Harry stammered, refusing to meet Dakin’s eyes. “I just started getting them. The letters, I mean. I don’t even know who they’re from.”
“I see.”
“It could be from anyone,” continued Harry quickly, clasping his hands together. “Maybe it’s a prank or something. Love letters. What a bunch of rubbish. Who would want to send letters to me anyway?”
“Maybe someone who fancies you,” answered Dakin sarcastically. He sighed. “Pranksters don’t impose requests to snog their victims. And these letters sound sincere enough to be real.”
“This could be a way just to humiliate me!” protested Harry. “This wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You almost make it seem like it’s atrocious for someone to like you for who you are.”
“I guess it’s hard to believe. This rarely happens to me.”
“There’s always a first time for everything, Harry,” murmured Dakin softly, getting up from the sofa. He glanced at Harry intensely before making his way to the door. “I should get going.”
“Yeah,” agreed Harry, wondering how the ease between them had suddenly turned into tension. “I guess I’ll see you.”
“Yes, I suppose I will.”
And then Dakin was gone. Harry stared at the open doorway. What just happened? One moment they were joking around and the next, it was like they had a row. Dakin was being ridiculous if he was going to let something small like love letters get to him. It wasn’t until Harry kicked the door shut that he realised Dakin still had them.
“Fuck!” Harry cursed furiously, kicking the door again for extra measure. He managed to stub his toe instead. “Damn it! That bastard!”
He groaned miserably, ignoring the pain he was in. He was not only clumsy, but also much stupider than he thought. It was no wonder he had so much trouble trusting people. They were all betrayers. Harry couldn’t believe Dakin would be one as well. Why had it been a good idea to comfort Dakin in the first place? Harry had been doing just fine without him. Now, Harry was just a right mess and confused as hell. Blackmail wasn’t exactly a threat, but it still offended him that Dakin had invaded his privacy like that.
Harry was contemplating whether hunt down Dakin to get the letters back when he heard a the tap against his window. He smacked his head with the palm of his hand. This was all he needed.
“Tell your master not to send any more messages,” he warned the tawny, taking the scroll from its leg. “It’s causing a lot of problems already. I can’t afford the neighbors to see you out in the day like this.”
The owl narrowed its eyes at him, nipping his finger before disappearing through the window.
“Seems like everything hates me today,” grumbled Harry, sucking on the wound. He glared at the letter, wishing it would catch on fire and burn.
He didn’t need more advice from someone he didn’t know. Why did it always have to be strangers that were always attracted to him? Strangers in the night, strangers of mystery. Whatever the hell they were. More like strangers who were total pillocks. Each and every one he had ever associated with since moving to Dundee. If there was one thing Harry learned, it was that wizards and Muggles were no different from each other.
But was the stranger behind his letters really a stranger at all? This person knew him, and Harry knew many people from the wizarding world, considering how many people he had allied with during the war. There had also been those at the funerals, but Harry disregarded those thoughts quickly. Who would waste their time watching his every move? And more or less disguised as a Muggle? Were they even disguised as a Muggle? There was always Polyjuice potion, but the Ministry had put restrictions on the ingredients to make it. Animagus? The thought of someone living as one of Mrs. Goldstein’s cats was creepy.
Harry picked up the message again, staring at it until it turned into a dark red carnation. No, that couldn’t be right. The last time he had done magic was three years ago. There were times when his magic would get a little out of control, but Harry had learned how to tame it. From what he could remember, staring at something did not transfigure it into something else.
He looked at the scroll in his hand. It changed into a carnation once more, before changing back into parchment. Finally, Harry opened up the letter. Everything froze as he read the words before him.
I didn’t know you were such a heartbreaker. That bloke that you helped out a couple of days ago left your building looking depressed all over again. You should have given him a break.
With that said, it almost intimidates me to ask a simple request from you. But let me explain.
I am sure you have been curious about my identity. By now, you would have figured out that I am not just anyone. I know you have heart. You’re a good person, even though you always put others before yourself. I have seen you, protecting those you don’t even know from their sorrows and evils. You want people to be safe and happy. But what do you want? Someone who is willing to do the same for you?
If this is so, let yourself be treated for dinner. There is new Thai restaurant next to the café. Wait by the bench nearby. Be there at seven o’clock.
I hope this is what you want. If it is, this message will turn into a carnation and stay that way once you finish reading this letter.
Sure enough, the parchment transformed into a carnation once more. Harry couldn’t help but raise it to his nose to smell it. It was lovely. Even the small gesture to give him the…had he just been asked on a blind date?
It was a shame he couldn’t reread the letter again. Whether or not he had been reading it correctly, he couldn’t help but admire the carnation. Harry went to the kitchen, opening random cabinets until he found a glass vase. Turning on the tap, he filled it up with water before dropping the flower in. This was quite a centerpiece. It would do for the coffee table.
Words played over and over in Harry’s mind as he examined the flower, taking in all the hues of red on its petals. Someone wanted to have dinner with him. Someone liked him, really liked him, and it wasn’t for sex or money. It was because he was Harry. Just Harry.
That was enough for Harry to decide what he was going to do. If this person really meant what they said, he would go meet him tonight. He needed something new in his life. And this would be perfect for that. Maybe to even gain a new love.
It was the only reason he smiled as he strolled into his room to change.
Part 4