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hackthis_archiveI’m attempting to make my second pass at writing HP, but it really has been a while to my mind. The last time I participated in HP-verse, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
impudent_rabbit put me on probation for killing Draco too much. Pfft. Seven times isn’t excessive.
New icon courtesy of the girls at A Thousand Words, and gasp, is that H/D I’m drabbling? (I know it’s short. Cut me a break, it’s hard to go back to HP after X2, SV, LOTRips and Everwood).
Harry Potter
Git
“Ah, the Git Who Won’t Die returns.”
Harry paused and let the words sink in. It wasn’t quite glee, just appreciation of the inevitable. Malfoy was as regular as Miss Norris’s trips past the Gryffindor portrait, and his voice seemed eerily loud in the train corridor. In a compartment out the corner of his eye, Harry caught several younger students playing Exploding Snap.
The smirk formed before Harry finished blinking, and he turned around slowly, his wand sliding down the sleeve of his robe into his hand. “I was wondering when you’d slither out to say hello, Malfoy.”
It had taken all of three hours for Malfoy to find Harry, or for Harry to find Malfoy depending on what turn the conversation decided to take. Harry would never admit to trawling the corridors of the train looking for Malfoy because that would be wrong, and Harry knew better. He wasn’t spoiling for a fight -- that much. They were sixth years, and Harry knew better, but as he wasn’t a prefect and he’d just spent the better part of the summer cooped up with Remus and Tonks perhaps a bit of verbal sparring wasn’t that remiss.
“Miss me?” Harry said. Twirling his wand between his fingers, lazily, Harry couldn’t help but notice the distinct lack of Slytherin entourage. That had to be first. Perhaps Malfoy didn’t want an audience for when Harry embarrassed the snot out of him. Rather smart idea, and highly non-Malfoy.
“Like a bad case of Haemorrhaging Herpes,” Malfoy said.
He had grown over the summer much to Harry’s surprise: taller, slightly more imposing, hair just as slick as ever. When Harry blinked, Malfoy’s wand appeared in his hand. That was certainly new. Malfoy must have been practising. “Yeah, I’d heard about that. Did that clear up all right? Parkinson really should get that looked at.”
“Fuck off, Potter.”
“Such language from a prefect? What would…” What would who say? And whom exactly would Harry be telling? Harry’s eyes danced between Malfoy and the car door behind him expectantly, the Goon Squad couldn’t possibly be that far behind.
Malfoy was advancing down the car quite slowly, and there was something about the expression on his face that made Harry’s left eye twitch.
“Niffler got your tongue, Potter?” Malfoy said, coming to a stop only a few metres away from Harry.
If Harry extended his arm and his wand, he could poke Malfoy in the throat. It was not an unappealing idea. “No, just amused at your bravado without Crabbe and Goyle to cover your arse.”
Malfoy made a tsking sound. “Your language, Potter. That will be five points from Gryffindor for insulting a prefect.”
Harry blinked, and then smirked. "Point in fact, Malfoy, since I'm always happy to piss on your parade: prefects can't deduct points. Maybe the stress of Current Events has knocked your one brain cell loose, but don't fret: I can smell the Dark Mark on you, and when your family is in Azkaban, I'm sure –“
Malfoy’s spell rung in Harry’s ears, and no further sounds were forth coming from Harry’s vocal cords. He blinked and poked at Malfoy angrily with his wand, but nothing happened. Out the corner of his eye, Harry saw the Exploding Snap students now gathered at the door of their compartment, staring at the scene in the corridor.
Malfoy grabbed the end of Harry’s wand and pointed it away from his chest.
“Who’s the feckless git now, Potter?” he said, advancing until his breath washed across Harry’s face. “You have no idea who I am or what I can do, and one day, right before you die, you’ll apologise to me for everything.”
Anger poured over Harry from a place he couldn’t name, but when he opened his mouth to retort, again nothing came out.
“I’ve always fancied the Silencing Charm,” Malfoy said thoughtfully, his smirk displaying thin lips and white teeth. His hand closed over the front of Harry’s robe, putting Harry in a psychological binding charm, and Harry blinked while his mind reeled. “It’s just so… silencing.”
And there, in full sight of several younger years, Malfoy kissed Harry.
Malfoy’s lips were dry, and at first he just pressed them against Harry’s mouth, but as though under Imperio, Harry’s mouth parted and Malfoy’s tongue snaked in. His lips were dry, and his mouth tasted of lemon tea and Fizzing Whizzbees, but it was very clear to Harry that Malfoy knew was he was doing.
This kiss was nothing like the one with Cho. It was wet, but without drowning Harry, and at the same time it was stifling and hot. There were teeth and sharp nips to Harry’s bottom lip.
He physically reeled when Malfoy let him go, dropping his wand on the ground.
“You’ll be sorry when you’re dead,” Malfoy whispered against Harry’s lips before pushing him away, and turning back from where he’d come.
Harry’s wandless-hand immediately came up to his mouth, and he touched his lips expectantly as though waiting for them to come off or catch fire. When he bent down to pick up his wand, Harry caught the movements in the compartment that had witnessed it all.
The voyeuristic younger years looked in danger of keeling over at any second, and Harry knew exactly how they felt. Straightening up, Harry pocketed his wand and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth before glaring at them and stalking off.
-finis-
Notes: ..."you, unlike me, are a git." Best line in the entire book.
impudent_rabbit put me on probation for killing Draco too much. Pfft. Seven times isn’t excessive. New icon courtesy of the girls at A Thousand Words, and gasp, is that H/D I’m drabbling? (I know it’s short. Cut me a break, it’s hard to go back to HP after X2, SV, LOTRips and Everwood).
Harry Potter
Git
“Ah, the Git Who Won’t Die returns.”
Harry paused and let the words sink in. It wasn’t quite glee, just appreciation of the inevitable. Malfoy was as regular as Miss Norris’s trips past the Gryffindor portrait, and his voice seemed eerily loud in the train corridor. In a compartment out the corner of his eye, Harry caught several younger students playing Exploding Snap.
The smirk formed before Harry finished blinking, and he turned around slowly, his wand sliding down the sleeve of his robe into his hand. “I was wondering when you’d slither out to say hello, Malfoy.”
It had taken all of three hours for Malfoy to find Harry, or for Harry to find Malfoy depending on what turn the conversation decided to take. Harry would never admit to trawling the corridors of the train looking for Malfoy because that would be wrong, and Harry knew better. He wasn’t spoiling for a fight -- that much. They were sixth years, and Harry knew better, but as he wasn’t a prefect and he’d just spent the better part of the summer cooped up with Remus and Tonks perhaps a bit of verbal sparring wasn’t that remiss.
“Miss me?” Harry said. Twirling his wand between his fingers, lazily, Harry couldn’t help but notice the distinct lack of Slytherin entourage. That had to be first. Perhaps Malfoy didn’t want an audience for when Harry embarrassed the snot out of him. Rather smart idea, and highly non-Malfoy.
“Like a bad case of Haemorrhaging Herpes,” Malfoy said.
He had grown over the summer much to Harry’s surprise: taller, slightly more imposing, hair just as slick as ever. When Harry blinked, Malfoy’s wand appeared in his hand. That was certainly new. Malfoy must have been practising. “Yeah, I’d heard about that. Did that clear up all right? Parkinson really should get that looked at.”
“Fuck off, Potter.”
“Such language from a prefect? What would…” What would who say? And whom exactly would Harry be telling? Harry’s eyes danced between Malfoy and the car door behind him expectantly, the Goon Squad couldn’t possibly be that far behind.
Malfoy was advancing down the car quite slowly, and there was something about the expression on his face that made Harry’s left eye twitch.
“Niffler got your tongue, Potter?” Malfoy said, coming to a stop only a few metres away from Harry.
If Harry extended his arm and his wand, he could poke Malfoy in the throat. It was not an unappealing idea. “No, just amused at your bravado without Crabbe and Goyle to cover your arse.”
Malfoy made a tsking sound. “Your language, Potter. That will be five points from Gryffindor for insulting a prefect.”
Harry blinked, and then smirked. "Point in fact, Malfoy, since I'm always happy to piss on your parade: prefects can't deduct points. Maybe the stress of Current Events has knocked your one brain cell loose, but don't fret: I can smell the Dark Mark on you, and when your family is in Azkaban, I'm sure –“
Malfoy’s spell rung in Harry’s ears, and no further sounds were forth coming from Harry’s vocal cords. He blinked and poked at Malfoy angrily with his wand, but nothing happened. Out the corner of his eye, Harry saw the Exploding Snap students now gathered at the door of their compartment, staring at the scene in the corridor.
Malfoy grabbed the end of Harry’s wand and pointed it away from his chest.
“Who’s the feckless git now, Potter?” he said, advancing until his breath washed across Harry’s face. “You have no idea who I am or what I can do, and one day, right before you die, you’ll apologise to me for everything.”
Anger poured over Harry from a place he couldn’t name, but when he opened his mouth to retort, again nothing came out.
“I’ve always fancied the Silencing Charm,” Malfoy said thoughtfully, his smirk displaying thin lips and white teeth. His hand closed over the front of Harry’s robe, putting Harry in a psychological binding charm, and Harry blinked while his mind reeled. “It’s just so… silencing.”
And there, in full sight of several younger years, Malfoy kissed Harry.
Malfoy’s lips were dry, and at first he just pressed them against Harry’s mouth, but as though under Imperio, Harry’s mouth parted and Malfoy’s tongue snaked in. His lips were dry, and his mouth tasted of lemon tea and Fizzing Whizzbees, but it was very clear to Harry that Malfoy knew was he was doing.
This kiss was nothing like the one with Cho. It was wet, but without drowning Harry, and at the same time it was stifling and hot. There were teeth and sharp nips to Harry’s bottom lip.
He physically reeled when Malfoy let him go, dropping his wand on the ground.
“You’ll be sorry when you’re dead,” Malfoy whispered against Harry’s lips before pushing him away, and turning back from where he’d come.
Harry’s wandless-hand immediately came up to his mouth, and he touched his lips expectantly as though waiting for them to come off or catch fire. When he bent down to pick up his wand, Harry caught the movements in the compartment that had witnessed it all.
The voyeuristic younger years looked in danger of keeling over at any second, and Harry knew exactly how they felt. Straightening up, Harry pocketed his wand and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth before glaring at them and stalking off.
-finis-
Notes: ..."you, unlike me, are a git." Best line in the entire book.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-06-25 11:27 am (UTC)I'm telling you there's more action on that train than any other train, including the Orient Express, in history.