I'm getting around.
Jan. 20th, 2003 09:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archive1. Dysfunctional is updated. Yay Lar!
2. For someone who wasn’t actually home this weekend, I produced a lot of stuff:
Smallville: Breakfast at Tiffany’s
LOTR RPS: Wake and Bake
3.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silviakundera has all the brains, and I’m just a hack. I stole this idea from her, and thankfully she didn‘t mind. Dedicated to bonibaru on the occasion of her birthday. This is one of two stories for you.
Harry Potter
I Tripped Over a Seeker Afraid of Heights
There’s always a first time.
Harry’s first time came after Gryffindor slaughtered Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup, and really, as far as first times go it shouldn’t have been as good as it was. But it was good, and Harry will always come back to that.
Harry’s mind will always bring him back to Malfoy chasing him around the pitch, through hoops and into places that were dark and decaying from years of disuse.
Malfoy was the one who followed Harry into those places that no one else ever dared to go. Malfoy followed Harry in ways that Ron never thought to, and that’s what made all the difference in the end.
Harry doesn’t know if it was Malfoy’s first time. A part of him doesn’t care. Another part does.
All that Harry knows is that on that particular day things came to a head that he had never thought of. Or maybe he had. Harry prefers not to examine his reasoning too closely because he knows how flawed it might turn out to be.
On this particular day Harry had flown with confidence, and Malfoy had flown the way he always did. Haphazardly, careless with himself and his broom, but cautious about things that Harry could only guess at.
Harry had gone higher, and Malfoy had followed him upwards. And there, at the top of the world, Harry had realised that bravery didn’t always have to do with swords. There were some fears that were so basic that Harry never even contemplated their existence.
Harry had been looking for the Snitch, and Malfoy had been looking at him. Harry had noticed that Malfoy was white-knuckling his broom as though it were the only thing between him and certain death. Which it was, but Harry had never contemplated the idea that a Malfoy feared anything. Certainly not heights. But apparently they did, or this one did, and yet he hadn‘t let it keep him back.
He still followed Harry no matter where he went.
And after the game, after landings and showers and before celebrations there had been a look. One look was all it took for Harry to realise that there were other fears that he had. Fears apart from dying and Sirius going back to Azkaban.
Harry Potter, The Boy Who Apparently Had it All, really didn’t have much of anything at all. At least not in relation to knowing how to win over a boy who wouldn’t be seen giving him the time of day.
So Harry thought, and waited, and thought some more. And all of that thinking took place in the space of a shower that went so fast Harry still had suds behind his ears when he changed back into his school clothes. Yet no decision was made, no epiphany was reached on Harry’s part until he saw Malfoy stalking back to his dorm.
Everything happened rather quickly.
Malfoy tripped on something in the grass, and Harry was there offering a hand that he knew would be rejected. But Harry did it anyway because that’s what he did, and Malfoy just gave him this look.
So Harry Potter snogged Draco Malfoy based on said look, and even though Malfoy bit Harry’s lip but otherwise didn’t touch him back, Harry didn’t mind.
He wasn’t afraid of heights at all.
+++
There isn’t always a second time, but for Harry there was.
When he looks back on it later, he’ll think it was the hand in the small of his back that did him in.
It wasn’t Malfoy’s teeth on his earlobe, or the press of lips on the nape of his neck. Just Malfoy’s hand rubbing with a surety of what Harry was willing to give him.
It was a good hand. Warm and insistent, rubbing small circles on a bare patch of skin. Malfoy had insinuated his hand there shortly after dragging Harry into an empty classroom when they were supposed to be in Astronomy. Later on there would be detention, quite possibly with lines written on a blackboard. There would be long, tedious lines about never skiving off class again. But that would be later, because this was now.
Malfoy was always about now.
Even his fear of heights only seemed to come when he was in the air, and Malfoy was the only ‘now’ that Harry could bring himself to care about. It always came back to Malfoy and his hand with long, impossibly elegant fingers that ghosted along Harry’s spine promising him things that he didn’t really want from anyone else.
Truth be told, Harry hadn’t even wanted these things from Malfoy until the first time. So Harry tripped over his own robes when Malfoy pushed him against the wall and took what he wanted.
And Harry let him; because he could.
It wasn’t as though Harry was missing anything in Astronomy that he couldn’t pick up later from Hermione. Besides, there was no point in studying the stars when events on the ground were so much more interesting.
Harry never feared learning.
+++
Very few people get a third time, but Harry did. It took place outside the Great Hall when everyone else was at dinner.
The location was nothing more than solid earth and there was no flying to speak of, proverbial or otherwise. But when Malfoy pulled away suddenly at the sound of voices from somewhere far off, Harry realised that he had a fear all his own that he had never even thought of.
It had nothing to do with flying and everything to do with falling.
Maybe Malfoy could see that in his eyes.
Quite possibly Harry didn’t care.
After all, everyone is afraid of something or other.
-finis-
Notes: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
obsessedmuch for beta duty, and being so great.
2. For someone who wasn’t actually home this weekend, I produced a lot of stuff:
Smallville: Breakfast at Tiffany’s
LOTR RPS: Wake and Bake
3.
silviakundera has all the brains, and I’m just a hack. I stole this idea from her, and thankfully she didn‘t mind. Dedicated to bonibaru on the occasion of her birthday. This is one of two stories for you.Harry Potter
I Tripped Over a Seeker Afraid of Heights
There’s always a first time.
Harry’s first time came after Gryffindor slaughtered Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup, and really, as far as first times go it shouldn’t have been as good as it was. But it was good, and Harry will always come back to that.
Harry’s mind will always bring him back to Malfoy chasing him around the pitch, through hoops and into places that were dark and decaying from years of disuse.
Malfoy was the one who followed Harry into those places that no one else ever dared to go. Malfoy followed Harry in ways that Ron never thought to, and that’s what made all the difference in the end.
Harry doesn’t know if it was Malfoy’s first time. A part of him doesn’t care. Another part does.
All that Harry knows is that on that particular day things came to a head that he had never thought of. Or maybe he had. Harry prefers not to examine his reasoning too closely because he knows how flawed it might turn out to be.
On this particular day Harry had flown with confidence, and Malfoy had flown the way he always did. Haphazardly, careless with himself and his broom, but cautious about things that Harry could only guess at.
Harry had gone higher, and Malfoy had followed him upwards. And there, at the top of the world, Harry had realised that bravery didn’t always have to do with swords. There were some fears that were so basic that Harry never even contemplated their existence.
Harry had been looking for the Snitch, and Malfoy had been looking at him. Harry had noticed that Malfoy was white-knuckling his broom as though it were the only thing between him and certain death. Which it was, but Harry had never contemplated the idea that a Malfoy feared anything. Certainly not heights. But apparently they did, or this one did, and yet he hadn‘t let it keep him back.
He still followed Harry no matter where he went.
And after the game, after landings and showers and before celebrations there had been a look. One look was all it took for Harry to realise that there were other fears that he had. Fears apart from dying and Sirius going back to Azkaban.
Harry Potter, The Boy Who Apparently Had it All, really didn’t have much of anything at all. At least not in relation to knowing how to win over a boy who wouldn’t be seen giving him the time of day.
So Harry thought, and waited, and thought some more. And all of that thinking took place in the space of a shower that went so fast Harry still had suds behind his ears when he changed back into his school clothes. Yet no decision was made, no epiphany was reached on Harry’s part until he saw Malfoy stalking back to his dorm.
Everything happened rather quickly.
Malfoy tripped on something in the grass, and Harry was there offering a hand that he knew would be rejected. But Harry did it anyway because that’s what he did, and Malfoy just gave him this look.
So Harry Potter snogged Draco Malfoy based on said look, and even though Malfoy bit Harry’s lip but otherwise didn’t touch him back, Harry didn’t mind.
He wasn’t afraid of heights at all.
+++
There isn’t always a second time, but for Harry there was.
When he looks back on it later, he’ll think it was the hand in the small of his back that did him in.
It wasn’t Malfoy’s teeth on his earlobe, or the press of lips on the nape of his neck. Just Malfoy’s hand rubbing with a surety of what Harry was willing to give him.
It was a good hand. Warm and insistent, rubbing small circles on a bare patch of skin. Malfoy had insinuated his hand there shortly after dragging Harry into an empty classroom when they were supposed to be in Astronomy. Later on there would be detention, quite possibly with lines written on a blackboard. There would be long, tedious lines about never skiving off class again. But that would be later, because this was now.
Malfoy was always about now.
Even his fear of heights only seemed to come when he was in the air, and Malfoy was the only ‘now’ that Harry could bring himself to care about. It always came back to Malfoy and his hand with long, impossibly elegant fingers that ghosted along Harry’s spine promising him things that he didn’t really want from anyone else.
Truth be told, Harry hadn’t even wanted these things from Malfoy until the first time. So Harry tripped over his own robes when Malfoy pushed him against the wall and took what he wanted.
And Harry let him; because he could.
It wasn’t as though Harry was missing anything in Astronomy that he couldn’t pick up later from Hermione. Besides, there was no point in studying the stars when events on the ground were so much more interesting.
Harry never feared learning.
+++
Very few people get a third time, but Harry did. It took place outside the Great Hall when everyone else was at dinner.
The location was nothing more than solid earth and there was no flying to speak of, proverbial or otherwise. But when Malfoy pulled away suddenly at the sound of voices from somewhere far off, Harry realised that he had a fear all his own that he had never even thought of.
It had nothing to do with flying and everything to do with falling.
Maybe Malfoy could see that in his eyes.
Quite possibly Harry didn’t care.
After all, everyone is afraid of something or other.
-finis-
Notes: Thanks to
obsessedmuch for beta duty, and being so great.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-01-21 09:04 am (UTC)I never really have anything constructive to say, do I?
you always have something constructive to say. pffft. you commented on the small gestures bit, and i've always had a soft spot for those, so you know, i'm really happy :)