drarrymicrofic

[drarrymicrofic]

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt: ink | wc 50

Black, the shape of Draco’s fingerprints. On his clothes—their furniture—the bedsheets. If Draco noticed, he’d vanish them, so Harry kept them secret. His favourite tie had one on the underside. A book he never cared for, now cherished, four smudges on the cover. Harry studied them. Kissed them.

Other microfics

[drarrymicrofic]

He'll be home soon. He'll walk in, stupidly handsome, complaining about our creaky door and living in student accommodation. He'll say hello, smile on his lips and in his eyes.

And I'll be brave and finally ask him out. My heart will race but just for once, I'll be brave.

brave (50 words) - @drarrymicrofic - bingo squares: non-magical AU + roommates + future tense + first person + Draco POV - shoutout to @megreads99 liking this even when I didn't XD

[drarrymicrofic]

ink - @drarrymicrofic

Summer bingo squares: 50 words, forced bonding, trope subversion, Harry POV, romance

The ink is barely dry on the marriage certificate yet Draco has Harry pinned against the wall, sliding Harry’s shirt up out of his jeans.

“The law—” Harry gasps, Draco’s mouth trailing his jaw. “My wife. She’s just outside, remember.”

“I don’t care.” Draco’s kisses turn slow. “You’re mine.”

[drarrymicrofic]

The After rips apart. Splits in two to spit him back out. Draco's heart restarts. The air tastes sharp, electric.

"You didn't expect me to let you die, did you? You owe me. I plan to collect." A voice, emotionless.

Draco turns—it's Potter.

Or something that looks like him.

expect (50 words) - @drarrymicrofic - bingo squares: 50 words + Master of Death - shoutout to @megreads99 for the help and handholding and reassurance <3

[drarrymicrofic]

For @drarrymicrofic prompt: “ink” wc: 150 (based on @cluelessascanbe’s latest and also a scene from my favourite movie when I was a teen)

The full moon illuminates Hogwarts’ grounds, where two professors have snuck out into the lake. They could never do this when school is in session.

While Draco and Harry snog like teenagers, revisiting a past experience they never really quite got with each other, Draco stills. Harry’s groping his arse, but there’s. . .something else.

“All right?” Harry asks.

“Er—”

But there it is again, along the inside of Draco’s thigh. Suddenly, he’s never swam so fast in his life. His and Harry’s quiet laughter has turned to screams, although they soon stand on shore dripping wet and with whatever erections the cold water allowed having fully flagged.

“I was just violated by a squid!” Draco proclaims, sending Harry into a fit of laughter.

“Sorry, sorry. . .” Harry says when he comes back up.

Hands on his hips, Draco huffs a great exhale. Then, he scoffs. “Actually, that felt kind of good.”

[drarrymicrofic]

Ink | @drarrymicrofic

Summertime usually calls for some quiet and rest. This august in particular feels exceptionally long, air filled with anticipation and songs unknown. Draco closes his eyes, palm on the paper – he sent some of mothers feelings transfering ink to England and got a reply written in it in two days.

Warmth, something cozy and gentle with a grain of anxiety and impatience. Such a perfect reflection of his own state and emotions.

It's stupid, really. It's been seven years since the end of the war, he's already graduated the French Alchemical and Rare magic Academy and found a job as a FARA's curse expert here in Nice. Technically he shouldn't work in ministry-near structures but who cares when you have the skills. He thought – everyone, turns out not so much.

Right now he's on a vacation in the backyard of mother's house in Nice, resting after a crazy year. Reading Harry's letter. Feeling almost completely happy.

Almost as in wishing to see Harry but knowing he has no right to be something more than an address on the envelope in the chosen one's life. Weird he still writes to him tho and contacted him first five years ago... Draco tries not to think about it.

– Invite him over already.

He snaps his eyelids open. Mother looks at him and sighs, handing him a bowl of berries with a huge prune in it. Tasty.

– For what, exactly? Reminiscing the horrors?

– Do you honestly think he makes sure to contact you every two days when he's not ass deep in auror work just to see if you've joined another homicidal maniac?

– Perhaps.

– Or perhaps he's still in love with you and you two idiots need to finally sort it out. Voldemort's dead. We're all free. It's different now.

Draco hides the letter in his pocket, gently folded and answers firmly yet quietly.

– The damage is already done. Sometimes it's best to stay away for each person's sanity. You honestly think that Harry Potter wouldn't be knocking on the door if he truly wanted to see someone? There are no invites and none ever will be written. Fresh parchment and glimpses of his life – that's all I'm going to get and I'm quite content with it.

– Can you give yourself a chance?

– Oh I had chances. And managed to make all the wrong choices. Besides, he's getting divorced and moving – there's no time in the schedule.

– Moving where?

– No idea.

From: Harry James Potter

France, Nice

Let's go out on a date sometime. You choose the place and all, I'll just show up looking pretty for once.

Draco laughs unable to contain his shock, fingers gripping the paper.

– You fucking idiot.

You know where to find me. Bring beef to cook, I'll figure out everything else.

P.S. You're always pretty. It's honestly annoying.

[drarrymicrofic]

for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'ink'; 200 words

The invitation is slammed down onto Harry's desk, the iridescent ink glistening in the lamp light.

"What is the meaning of this, Potter?"

"Well…it's a piece of paper with some words on it. I'm sure I remember you being able to read back at Hogwarts?"

"Nice one. Of course I can read it. That doesn't mean I follow."

"Follow?"

"You're asking me to Neville's wedding…as your date. Why?"

"Well, I thought we might have fun together. We usually do."

"Usually?"

"Always, but don't be vain."

"Already asking me to change for him, all downhill from here."

"Is that a yes?"

"Depends."

"Oh?"

"I just want to make sure. Is this you asking to make it official? To the public?"

"No, I'm casually inviting you to the wedding of the year, that's going to be reported on by every paper in the country."

"Don't roll your eyes at me. Besides, there are only two papers, Potter."

"And they'll both have pictures of us. Together."

"Hmmm…I see. Alright then. I suppose that's acceptable."

"Contain your enthusiasm, Malfoy."

"Oh, I'll give you something to contain, don't worry. And, Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"It's only April, Neville's doesn't have to stay the wedding of the year."

[drarrymicrofic]

for @drarrymicrofic prompt ‘ink’; 75 words; thanks @hsvh for the squid inspiration

“‘Nice midnight swim’, he says —“

“Moonlit. Romantic —“

“It’ll cool you right off —“

“The heatwave —“

“Burn off some of that exams tension —“

“Had another idea for that.”

“Isn’t Hagrid your friend? You didn’t know the Giant Squid is territorial during mating season?”

“Poor blue balled sod. Not that i relate.”

“Potter, do you have any idea how hard it’ll be washing this ink from my hair?”

“Could do it for you?”

[drarrymicrofic]

For @drarrymicrofic prompt: “ink” wc: 150

“It’s not funny!”

Harry’s laughing anyway, barely holding on to the side of the boat. Beside him, with his arms helplessly held wide, Draco drips in squid ink.

“Why did you scoop it up?” Draco demands of Harry, who can’t even breathe.

“That was my best net,” their guide laments as it disappears in the blue-green water.

“Oi, Malfoy,” Weasley says through his breathless gasps, “you’ve got a little something—”

Thump—thump, “Gerroff!” and then: SPLASH.

Granger gasps and leaps for the boat’s edge, where Draco now stands triumphant. “Ron!”

“Ha!” Draco points at him. “How’s that feel, Weasel—AHH!”

Harry sweeps Draco up in his arms. Like a bride being carried over the threshold, the two of them soon join Weasley in the chilly waters of Tasmania. Granger and their guide look down at them from above.

The guide shakes his head. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

[drarrymicrofic]

Declarations of love (and other literary pursuits)

For the August @drarrymicrofic prompt ink | 120 words

“What about, ‘Your hair flows like ink, dark on the page, and every time I read a book, I think of you. I love books, so I probably love you too.’”

She looks at him flatly. One eye twitches and he can’t tell if maybe she’s holding in a laugh.

“Draco, that’s terrible. You can’t say that in front of everybody.”

“Fuck.” His head droops forward into his hands. They’ve been at this for days and guests will be arriving soon. Pansy scans the rest of the paper.

“I think these are even worse than when you started. Maybe skip the metaphors? Keep it simple.”

“Showing him that I love him is easy. Putting it into words is much harder.”

[drarrymicrofic]

rebuild

@drarrymicrofic | wc: 144 | bingo: idiots in love, onomatopoeia

Do you love me?” Harry asked, absentmindedly tracing the stitching of their duvet.

“Sometimes,” Draco mumbled, casting another intricate spell.

Harry abandoned the pattern. “Oh.” That wasn’t the answer he expected.

“Did you really just ask me that? I’m almost done rebuilding our bed after some… um… rather spirited activities.”

Laughter escaped Harry. Color crept up Draco’s neck and he rolled his eyes as he cast the final spell.

“There, good as new,” Draco exclaimed proudly. He walked around the bed, admiring his work.

Harry caught him at the foot of the bed and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist. He pulled Draco against his chest as they fell back onto the bed together.

Crack!

Harry froze. Half an hour of work undone in just a few seconds.

Draco sighed. “Whatever.” He kissed Harry as he straddled his hips. “We’ll get a new bed.”

[drarrymicrofic]

pierce

for @drarrymicrofic prompt: inhale

word count: 426

Their foreheads are pressed together, a tacky-stick, their combined sweat forming some sort of glue. Draco couldn’t move if he tried. Harry’s gaze is pinning him, just a blur of green and black at this range.

“Please,” Harry whispers, his breath ghosting across Draco’s lips. It smells good, like wine and cigarettes and that indefinable earth that’s all Harry.

Draco closes his eyes for a long moment, needing a rest from the unrelenting green. He feels a wetness on his cheek, but it’s impossible to tell whose tear it is. He tilts his chin up, presses his lips to Harry’s once— a harsh, sexless thing, more of a curse than a kiss— and plunges the knife between Harry’s ribs.

/

A shocked inhale wrenches itself out of Harry, like paper being torn. It’s startling, how much it hurts. He’s never been stabbed before— though not for a lack of trying, he hears Ron laughing over empty pint glasses. It feels strange— a deep, burning feeling, localised in his chest but radiating out, making him nauseous. He thinks, for the first time in years, of Dobby.

Draco’s hands are fluttering around his chest, skating up and down his ribs like he’s a player piano, and if he hits the right chord he can undo the damage. Harry looks up, tries to smile.

“You— you’ve blood on your teeth,” Draco says, his voice wobbling dangerously. “Harry, fuck— we didn’t think this through, we didn’t— Merlin’s sake, we could have done it completely different, should have asked— oh, shit!”

This last exclamation is due to Harry’s cough. Around the third sentence, he’d been unable to continue suppressing it. Blood spatters Draco’s collar, the drops of red stark and pointless against the crisp starched white. Harry’s fingers are going numb.

“It’s okay,” he says, but it comes out all funny, his tongue is too big for his mouth, and the world is darkening, closing in. “S’okay,” he tries again, “Draco,” and he really is feeling very wobbly now, the wall doing not-much to hold him up, and his sight has shrunk to a pinprick, just flashes of Draco’s eyes, the furrow of his brow, his lips, spit-slicked and mouthing frantically. Healing charms, Harry thinks, and laughs a little at the sweetness of it all. More blood hits Draco, his chin, the corner of his nose. There’s a ringing in his ears, growing louder, the great squealing of a train coming down the tracks, and his last thought is nothing in particular, a smiling thing, warm and sweet and smelling of cedar.

[drarrymicrofic]

Sticky-sweet

It would leave a stain; Draco laughed, full-bellied and wonderful, and licked the juice off Harry’s wrist, then his fingers, one by one. “You can’t,” Harry said, head-spun and helpless against it: “Draco!”

They both paused in the breathless heat. Draco looked up. It spilled out of Harry everywhere, melting down, tacky fingers reaching out to grasp: sleeve-stained, ink-sure, a promise written and fulfilled.

“I can,” Draco challenged, scorching.

Harry’s cheeks hurt. He said, “Come here.”

Draco tasted like nectarines. The stain spread, indelible, a sticky mess in Harry’s chest; he liked the way it settled inside him, ever-bright. Definite.

For @drarrymicrofic's prompt 'ink'.

[drarrymicrofic]

harry/draco | 50 words | @drarrymicrofic prompt: ink

-

Draco stares at the hotel bed. Singular. The bed stares back. “You’re shitting me.”

-

(Yesterday)

“Absofuckinglutely not.”

“One date. You need the PR. Not like we’ll have to share a bed.”

“Put that in ink.”

Harry grins, triumphant. “You sure that’s binding enough? Not blood? An Unbreakable, to be safe?”

-

Read on AO3

[drarrymicrofic]

correspondence

for @drarrymicrofic prompt ink and summer bingo boxes patronuses, wandlore, crackfic, pureblood culture, Rated M, magical houses, 100 words, and love potions/spells/pollens. I guess bingo also?

Malfoy, come get your wand.

Dear Potter, No. DLM

Don’t be a twat. ~~~HJP

Dear Potter, Grimmauld will think we’re courting if I visit and receive a gift. Then we’re good as wed. DLM

Fine! As long as it stops!

Dear Potter, Regretfully declining, DLM

Malfoy. PLEASE. I’ve had a boner for A MONTH!!!

Dear Potter, That cannot be the fault of my wand. Have you sampled a potion from one of the third-floor cupboards? DLM

:( If you won’t get your wand, help me with mine. Literally begging!!! :( Harry 

Harry— Arriving shortly. Send a Patronus if it gets worse. Draco

Images of physical correspondence below the cut 📝

[drarrymicrofic]

like a kiss

@drarrymicrofic, 134 words. prompt: "ink" + summer bingo: veela, no dialogue (hope this counts!), soulmates. cw: blood

It hits Harry’s mouth like a kiss; the first punch on their first night sharing a room in the eighth-years’ dorms.

Plowing a fist back into him has never felt so good—Harry’s never hated more, never wanted more. Malfoy’s the most annoying, most heinous, awful git to walk this earth, and—

His blood is thick as ink, spreading below them on freshly fallen snow. Like this, he looks like he was meant to have been born an angel, instead.

Someone curses. Hands grab Harry; push him back. Away.

Only then does he notice the white of Malfoy's wings—not snow at all. When his eyes meet Malfoy's, he realises his lips feel swollen—freshly separated from something sweet.

It's a daring gaze, a vicious, triumphant sneer: You know what this means—don't you?

[drarrymicrofic]

for @drarrymicrofic prompt: ink bingo card prompts completed: 50 words, azkaban, POV change, epistolary word count: 50 (aka my nemesis) i've included the letters below for easier reading!

Malfoy,  A reminder: prisoners should not be giving prisoners tattoos, or themselves. This is your final warning.  Auror Potter 

Scarhead,  Everyone needs a hobby. I even dedicated a tattoo to you - though I shan't tell you where. DLM

Malfoy,  Don't worry - I'll confirm it's placement with a body search.  Potter