Harry Potter - Interesting
summary: Draco notices something...interesting.
notes: For hd_falling challenge.
word: fragrance
Interesting
*
The school was a gilded cage of magic. Its grounds were filled with the tantalizing fragrance of rose and honeysuckle, the heavy air drifting lazily in from over the lake, and the pine-scented breeze crackling electrically from the Forbidden Forest. Draco was enjoying the lovely weather, just on the cusp of summer and reminding the itching students they would soon be free of their schoolwork ills. Outside, Draco stretched on the open lawn and ripped tufts of grass from the soft ground. They fluttered from his fingers on the light breeze. It was a beautiful day and nothing could ruin his mood.
Draco’s sun-warmed skin was suddenly cold as a shadow crossed in front of his closed eyelids. He opened them to find Potter staring down at him. “What do you want, Potter? Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy myself?”
Potter’s mouth opened and closed. He went away.
Draco smiled and closed his eyes again.
When Draco rose to go inside it was nearing dark. The sun stained the sky with watercolor brilliance. Draco looked up at Hogwarts, wishing he were home, and saw someone staring back at him from a window in Gryffindor Tower.
It was Potter.
*
Potter was staring at him from across the great hall. Draco’s plate was piled high with mutton that suddenly tasted like cardboard in his mouth. His stomach gave a little flutter. Why was Potter staring at him? Did he have something on his face? Draco took a sip of his drink and surreptitiously wiped his chin when he was through. There was nothing on it. When he looked up again, Potter was blushing and looking down at his plate.
Interesting.
*
In Potions Potter was surprisingly docile. He didn’t once mention how much he hated Draco or slide over in his seat to talk to the Weasel. He didn’t even mess up the potion, which made Draco think he might actually have studied ahead-surprising, seeing as he’d known for a week he and Draco would be partners on this project, and whoever was partnered with Draco was guaranteed to have their potion turn out right.
Still, it pleased him that Potter was at least trying…even if his hands shook whenever Draco handed him things to slice. Draco made sure to hand him every ingredient he needed. It was worth it to see the little tremor, the red that appeared on the back of Potter’s neck.
*
The quidditch boys’ locker room was full of young men changing in and out of gear. Slytherin practice had just ended and Gryffindors were taking over the field. Potter straggled behind the rest going out the door. Draco hid his smile with his shirt as he pulled it over his head. It came off in a sticky rush. Draco felt the sweat still clinging to his chest and back, felt his hair sticking to the back of his neck and the sides of his face. He looked up at the Gryffindor standing frozen in the doorway…and winked.
*
Draco was sprawled out on the grass by the lake. His eyes were closed. He was waiting.
Finally the expected party came, though he doubted Potter knew Draco could predict his awkward fumblings as if it were child’s play. Potter was going to kiss him today. Draco could feel it in his bones.
“Why are you blocking my sunlight?” Draco asked when the familiar shadow crossed over his eyes. He heard the grass beside him bend and shift, heard the robed figure beside him sit down. Draco didn’t open his eyes.
“Sorry,” came Potter’s voice. “I just…I have something to say. And I’m going to.”
“So get on with it.” Draco bent up on his elbows and opened his eyes. Potter’s hair was messy over his scar, which was white against his ruddy skin. His glasses were taped in the middle and not the right shape for his face. His upper lip had a crook on the left side that made it slightly bigger than its mirror. Still, the sight sent shivers down Draco’s spine. He held them in, anticipating.
“I…I fancy blokes.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Does Weasley know?”
“Of course not! Er…no.” Potter blushed. Draco drank in the color as if by gazing at Potter’s cheeks, he could absorb the feel and texture of that color with his hands.
A feral smile lit the Slytherin’s face. “So…why do you want me to know this, Potter? Come to tell me you fancy me?”
Draco waited. Potter twitched. “What if I said yes?”
“Are you telling me that’s what you came for?” Draco felt laughter bubbling in his throat. He held it in.
Potter paused. His eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips into a thin red line. “Yes,” he admitted at length.
Draco let his laughter loose. He crooked a finger at Potter as the boy rose angrily to his feet. “Wait a minute, Potter.”
“I won’t stay here and be mocked.” Potter cut a malevolent figure for a moment before he became plain Potter again. Draco wondered why he bothered.
“Come back down here a sec. I want to tell you something.” Draco waited. Potter glared at him…and grudgingly sat down again.
“Closer.”
Potter bent close, unconsciously licking his lips.
Draco reached up and snatched Potter’s head. He kissed Potter once on the forehead and once on the lips. “Alright, I accept,” he informed Potter crisply, and went back to sprawling on the grass.
“Wait,” Potter sputtered, “accept what?”
“I’ll date you. There, aren’t you happy? You got what you came for.”
There was no movement, no sound.
Then Potter was blocking his sunlight and lips were on his, a slick tongue sliding into his mouth. Draco smiled and pulled Potter on top of him.
He wondered who in Gryffindor was watching them now.
notes: For hd_falling challenge.
word: fragrance
Interesting
*
The school was a gilded cage of magic. Its grounds were filled with the tantalizing fragrance of rose and honeysuckle, the heavy air drifting lazily in from over the lake, and the pine-scented breeze crackling electrically from the Forbidden Forest. Draco was enjoying the lovely weather, just on the cusp of summer and reminding the itching students they would soon be free of their schoolwork ills. Outside, Draco stretched on the open lawn and ripped tufts of grass from the soft ground. They fluttered from his fingers on the light breeze. It was a beautiful day and nothing could ruin his mood.
Draco’s sun-warmed skin was suddenly cold as a shadow crossed in front of his closed eyelids. He opened them to find Potter staring down at him. “What do you want, Potter? Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy myself?”
Potter’s mouth opened and closed. He went away.
Draco smiled and closed his eyes again.
When Draco rose to go inside it was nearing dark. The sun stained the sky with watercolor brilliance. Draco looked up at Hogwarts, wishing he were home, and saw someone staring back at him from a window in Gryffindor Tower.
It was Potter.
*
Potter was staring at him from across the great hall. Draco’s plate was piled high with mutton that suddenly tasted like cardboard in his mouth. His stomach gave a little flutter. Why was Potter staring at him? Did he have something on his face? Draco took a sip of his drink and surreptitiously wiped his chin when he was through. There was nothing on it. When he looked up again, Potter was blushing and looking down at his plate.
Interesting.
*
In Potions Potter was surprisingly docile. He didn’t once mention how much he hated Draco or slide over in his seat to talk to the Weasel. He didn’t even mess up the potion, which made Draco think he might actually have studied ahead-surprising, seeing as he’d known for a week he and Draco would be partners on this project, and whoever was partnered with Draco was guaranteed to have their potion turn out right.
Still, it pleased him that Potter was at least trying…even if his hands shook whenever Draco handed him things to slice. Draco made sure to hand him every ingredient he needed. It was worth it to see the little tremor, the red that appeared on the back of Potter’s neck.
*
The quidditch boys’ locker room was full of young men changing in and out of gear. Slytherin practice had just ended and Gryffindors were taking over the field. Potter straggled behind the rest going out the door. Draco hid his smile with his shirt as he pulled it over his head. It came off in a sticky rush. Draco felt the sweat still clinging to his chest and back, felt his hair sticking to the back of his neck and the sides of his face. He looked up at the Gryffindor standing frozen in the doorway…and winked.
*
Draco was sprawled out on the grass by the lake. His eyes were closed. He was waiting.
Finally the expected party came, though he doubted Potter knew Draco could predict his awkward fumblings as if it were child’s play. Potter was going to kiss him today. Draco could feel it in his bones.
“Why are you blocking my sunlight?” Draco asked when the familiar shadow crossed over his eyes. He heard the grass beside him bend and shift, heard the robed figure beside him sit down. Draco didn’t open his eyes.
“Sorry,” came Potter’s voice. “I just…I have something to say. And I’m going to.”
“So get on with it.” Draco bent up on his elbows and opened his eyes. Potter’s hair was messy over his scar, which was white against his ruddy skin. His glasses were taped in the middle and not the right shape for his face. His upper lip had a crook on the left side that made it slightly bigger than its mirror. Still, the sight sent shivers down Draco’s spine. He held them in, anticipating.
“I…I fancy blokes.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Does Weasley know?”
“Of course not! Er…no.” Potter blushed. Draco drank in the color as if by gazing at Potter’s cheeks, he could absorb the feel and texture of that color with his hands.
A feral smile lit the Slytherin’s face. “So…why do you want me to know this, Potter? Come to tell me you fancy me?”
Draco waited. Potter twitched. “What if I said yes?”
“Are you telling me that’s what you came for?” Draco felt laughter bubbling in his throat. He held it in.
Potter paused. His eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips into a thin red line. “Yes,” he admitted at length.
Draco let his laughter loose. He crooked a finger at Potter as the boy rose angrily to his feet. “Wait a minute, Potter.”
“I won’t stay here and be mocked.” Potter cut a malevolent figure for a moment before he became plain Potter again. Draco wondered why he bothered.
“Come back down here a sec. I want to tell you something.” Draco waited. Potter glared at him…and grudgingly sat down again.
“Closer.”
Potter bent close, unconsciously licking his lips.
Draco reached up and snatched Potter’s head. He kissed Potter once on the forehead and once on the lips. “Alright, I accept,” he informed Potter crisply, and went back to sprawling on the grass.
“Wait,” Potter sputtered, “accept what?”
“I’ll date you. There, aren’t you happy? You got what you came for.”
There was no movement, no sound.
Then Potter was blocking his sunlight and lips were on his, a slick tongue sliding into his mouth. Draco smiled and pulled Potter on top of him.
He wondered who in Gryffindor was watching them now.