#drarry excerpt

[bitkahuna]

“Ponce.”

“That’s me.” Harry sighed, tying his bandana. He was far too tired for anything clever.

“Care so much for your pretty hair?”

“You think it’s pretty?” He grinned. “Rich coming from the boy with manicured hands and perfume.”

“It’s called being civilized, Potter. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

Harry let out a lazy chuckle. Their back and forth was becoming more and more familiar in a way he never expected. It was fun. Mean, sure. They bullied each other. But something about it was also sort of familiar. It was comfortable.

But it took a turn when Draco finally looked over at him and saw his low eyelids and the dark bags under his eyes. The flickering light from the dungeon classroom’s torches cast eerie shadows on Harry's face, giving him an almost spectral appearance. “You look ghastly.” He frowned. “Not too much different from usual, but dreadful nonetheless.” His voice was an odd mix of concern and his usual snide.

Harry was slumped on the table, resting on his elbows. "Just waiting." He muttered, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Waiting?" The word picked at him more than it should. But he wasn’t an idiot and he knew Harry wasn’t either. Right now, despite any budding attraction between them, he had the Boy Who Lived, sworn enemy of Voldemort, sleep-deprived and talking. "And that merits ruining your already questionable appearance?"

"Just needs not to be screwed up.”

Harry's response was vague and tired. Draco, just like his father would, sensed an opportunity. But unlike his father, he had neither the subtly nor grace to pull off a manipulation like that against someone who spent half his summer learning from Knockturn Alley. Still, seizing the opportunity to dig deeper, Draco leaned closer, his icy greyish-blue eyes narrowing under the flicker of torchlight.

"Come now, Potter." Draco murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "What are you waiting for?"

Harry, even in his exhausted state, could almost laugh at Draco’s clumsy attempt at manipulation. The Slytherin’s tactics were transparent, more desperation than any real cunning. Though, he sort of liked hearing Draco lower his voice like that. That didn’t stop him from palming the jasper necklace under his shirt, just in case he was accidentally causing it. He wasn’t. But he still half-smiled, eyes hooded with fatigue as he responded, "Lots of things, Malfoy. I’ve seen you practicing on the Quidditch pitch. Merlin knows I’m worried you might actually start getting good.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he relaxed, pausing to make it seem as though his next reply was a decidedly revealed truth. “It’s the Triwizard Tournament. Can’t figure out what the third task is … I don’t think any of us are getting close.”

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly, a flicker of doubt flashing across his face. He leaned back and crossed his arms as well, trying to mask his own eagerness with disinterest. "Oh, the Tournament." He drawled lazily, twirling his wand between his fingers. "How dreadfully boring that has become. Watching you lot scramble around like headless chickens."

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty obsessed with Diggory for a while there, following him around like a lost puppy, going doe-eyed whenever you talked about him.” While Harry wasn’t saying anything incorrect, he couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy in his voice. Of course, he was fucking jealous.

Draco let out a laugh. “Diggory?” He asked with a wide grin. The main reason he was so delighted was because his plan the entire time had been to make Harry jealous by supporting Diggory. But he never thought it worked, so he stopped. Now, here he was, seeing the fruits of his labor. “He’s charming, but be realistic! He’s lowborn at best. I could never be with someone like him.”

Harry blinked, feeling more awake now than he had in days. He could take the obvious route of going against blood supremacy. But Harry found a much more interesting angle when he thought about it.

-----

[lqtraintracks]

For the Word excerpt ask: 'frog' or 'rainbow' :)

Elise. I fucking love you for giving me FROG. Lmao! This is a(n overly long) snippet from the end of Shiny Things, Slightly Damaged. It may enrich the reading to know that earlier in the story (they’re eighth years) Draco witnessed a first-year getting Harry’s signature on his chocolate frog card. Thus this is the second instance of the word frog in this story. ;) They’re at a room at the Hog’s Head for this, just to set the mood.

It’s late, and they haven’t turned on any lights, but there’s a moon. Malfoy’s skin gleams silver under its light. He’s naked. They both are. They’re sharing the bed, lying on their sides, facing each other.

Ten minutes earlier, Malfoy was riding Harry’s cock, his head thrown back, arse pounding down hard. He came on Harry’s chest, and Harry came inside him, again.

It’s still a little unreal, even though they started fucking only a month after the war ended. Harry couldn’t tell you how or why they started, only that it happened. That one day, returning Malfoy’s wand to him, he saw that stupid, arrogant look in his eye and it was either fight him or… this. To his shock, when he gripped Malfoy hard and breathed in his face, Malfoy chose this, and kissed Harry’s lips raw.

It would have been just the once. Maybe. Except that a week later Harry saw Malfoy coming out of the office of the Mind Healer next door to his own, eyes red and puffy, chin jutting out at seeing Harry there. They’d passed each other quickly, without words. But that night, Malfoy had shown up on the pavement outside Grimmauld, just wandering back and forth—before Harry opened the wards and the door to him, and pulled him roughly inside.

It’s not something that should have happened. Certainly not something that should keep happening. But it does. Because neither of them stops it. Because both of them seek it out in the other. They pretend they have no choice. It’s so much simpler that way.

“What?” Malfoy asks, studying Harry’s face.

“Mm. Nothing. Just thinking we should get back soon.”

Harry hasn’t told his Mind Healer about shagging Malfoy. He wonders if Malfoy’s told his. Not likely, Harry thinks. Which tells him plenty about the viability of what they’re doing. If they could keep it secret from each other, they probably would.

Malfoy scoots closer, his knee between Harry’s, his hand encircling Harry’s cock.

“Again?” Harry asks, a crooked smile pulling at his lips.

Malfoy looks down at the cock swelling as he strokes it, then back up at Harry. “You tell me.” Then, “If you don’t want to, I’ll just wank myself off to your chocolate frog card.”

Harry cannot, absolutely cannot, suppress a mad bubble of laughter at that.

Just as he can’t not notice that Malfoy’s getting hard again too, just from touching him.

Harry moves into his body, takes a firm grip on him as well. Malfoy gasps.

“One more,” says Harry.

And already thrusting his hips into it, Malfoy breathes, “Just one more.”

[fifiistar]

In the quiet, Harry wondered if Draco could hear his heartbeat—how it stuttered, clumsily, every time they stood too close, every time he caught that flash of silver in Draco’s eyes.

[k-kizkhalifa]

Ah excerpt from Pink, this fic is consuming me:

The last report was just about a few sightings of dementors in an area, Draco wasn’t directly familiar with the area but he figured he could check it out tomorrow. He looked up when he heard a knock on the door, and took a nervous breath. He hated that he felt nervous, he wasn’t used to feeling nervous.

He stuffed the reports in a drawer, picked up his mug, and walked over to the door, pulling it open.

Harry stood there in a dark hoodie, and a pair of jeans. His hair messy as ever, his green eyes had a wild look in them and offered a small smile.

“Hello?” Draco asked, trying to play it cool. He had to play it cool, he wasn’t supposed to know that Harry Potter was making an appearance.

“Hey,” Harry let out a breath, taking a step towards Draco. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Draco stepped back, letting him in, “where is Teddy?”

Harry chuckled, “with Andromeda.”

“Why did you laugh?”

“It’s cute, how concerned you are of him,” Harry shrugged, looking arounds Draco’s flat. It was different from Harry’s place. Where Harry was mismatched furniture and cozy, and sometimes cluttered because of Teddy, Draco’s place felt more put together. Sleek, black furniture, nothing out of place, only one wall decorated with a few perfectly sized and placed pictures.

“Hm,” Draco smiled, “take your shoes off, Potter.”

Potter did, just stepping out of them and leaving them by the door. He glanced at Draco, “anything else?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “tea?”

“No, it’s okay.” Harry shook his head, his eyes trailing over Draco, who had changed into a pair of shorts, and a fitted light pink sweatshirt. Harry’s face flushed, Draco and the color pink. Ugh.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Uh, I had a few,” Harry admitted, finally tearing his eyes from Draco. “Theo had some new information.”

Draco would admit he did admire the way Harry didn’t shy away from the truth. “Oh? Theodore Nott, hm?” He moved past Harry, towards the den, “come in, Potter.” Harry followed, and once he watched Draco sit on the couch, he himself took a seat on the smaller one.

“Yeah, Theo.” Harry shrugged, “did you sleep?”

“Sure,” Draco shrugged, he felt tense and nervous. He was sure it showed, and he was sure Harry was going to ask.

“Is this about Theo?”

“Is what about Theo?”

Harry waved a hand, towards Draco, frowning. “The way you’re acting? I can leave if you want, Draco.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Draco moved and sat his practically empty and definitely cold mug of tea on the side table, before running a hand through his bright blonde hair. “I don’t care about Theodore Nott. Does it surprise me? Not in the slightest. Does it interest me? A little.”

Harry snorted, “doesn’t surprise you?”

“Oh, Merlin no, Potter.” Draco gave him a look, “you seem to have a type.”

Harry flushed, shaking his head, and doing well to keep his eyes on Draco’s face, not his stupid pink sweatshirt.

“I was a little interested in how it got started?”

“Ah, ran into him during a case back when I first became an Auror and,” Harry shrugged, “Merlin, he could give a shit about me, and I liked that. He made me work to get information out of him, and after about three weeks he finally gave me something and then made a comment about stopping by for a conversation not related to work.” Harry chuckled, “anyway, it was never anything. Not really.”

Draco studied him, and then he asked. The question he knew he shouldn’t ask, but he did anyway. “Why didn’t it work out?”

Harry smiled, “why didn’t it work out,” he repeated the question, and leaned back in the seat, “I couldn’t ever give him what he was really looking for.”

“What was that?”

“A relationship.” Harry shrugged, “and there was no way in hell I was going to parent Teddy with him.” He shook his head, “he’s not the parenting type.”

Draco chuckled, softly, “I see. Why couldn’t you give him a relationship?” He was edging closer to the answer he was seeking, the one Theodore had hinted at. His eyes trained to Harry, watching him closely.

“Well,” Harry took a breath, returning the look, “there is this other bloke, that I just never could get out of my head.”

Draco arched an eyebrow, “really?”

“Yeah, good looking guy. Maybe you’ve met him?” Harry smiled, the beers he had drank with Theo making him feel a little playful. “Blonde hair, beautiful silver eyes, gorgeous smile, and Merlin, he is so brilliant, and a little funny. Great with children, dedicated to his job, kinda hard to get to know… but, worth it, I think.”

[froidefille]

Day 7: the best of your OTP *

📚 Bond by Anna Fugazzi **

Draco/Harry, 174k, M, OOTP compliant ***

Summary:

Yet another one of those Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Stuff Happens Leading To Twoo Wuv stories. Because every HD writer has to write at least one.

First off, if you enjoy bond fics and haven't (somehow) read this gem yet - oh boy, are you in for a treat. This was the very first bond fic I've read so for me it's an archetype of the trope, sort of like an exemplary model. It has it all - the very veeeery slow enemies to husbands to lovers, excellent plot, worldbuilding and the writing style to die for.

I asolutely loved the bond theme of it and how we can slowly see the boys start to trust each other and how they become friends and each other's Persons’. What I also loved was how believabe the characters were. It was absolutely enfuriating to read how Draco stays true to his beliefs but at te same time, exactly that has made him an excellently-sculptured character. Plus, it makes the final resolution so much sweeter :')

I also have to mention the way intimacy is handled in this fic, because it was so down-to-earth and realistic. In the story both boys are sixteen year olds, forced to suddenly spend all the time with someone they don't even like so obviously the intimacy part was going to be tricky. Dont get me wrong, I like "and suddenly they were kissing" just like any other girl but I LOVED reading how getting intimate was actually difficult for the boys (well, one of them xd) and how they've overcome this (and boy, they have, don't worry 😇).

Oh and also the h/c elements were delicious 💔.

I have already read this fic multiple times. I have this tradition that I read it every summer (and every other about-Christmas time actually) so I have many memories reading it: in uni during English Lit lecture (oh irony haha), on the bus stop, on the beach in Croatia, in my parent's house, in office at work.

I also remember when I was only learning English (lol) and so I have listed every word I didnt know the meaning of from the epilogue to my English notebook (I still have it somewhere!). So yeah, this fic has taught me the word spouse and expression rotten luck xd

Thank you for today’s prompt @hprecfest and until the next one!

* I really appreciate this prompt’s wording as „the best of your OTP” allowed my autistic black-and-white brain write about just one fic as it obviously is one of the best. My OTP happens to be one of the most popular ones hence there is at least a dozen of my personal bests of (some of which are included in the other day’s prompts but some just have to wait for another fest. There's simply too many 😅).

** I actually planned writing about this fic on day 3 for not-on-AO3 prompt as I’ve read this fic on FF.net like, 10 times minimum. So I wrote the whole rec and just before linking FF.net page I thought, let me just check if it is DEFINITELY not on AO3.

And guess what. It is. And I have it bookmarked xd

*** So many adnotations for this one, sorry! Anyway, I wanted to make sure you are informed – Anna writes on her dashboard that she is not tagging her works on AO3 – so tread carefully!

[skeptiquewrites]

For the excerpt game: gaze, rain, or truth, your choice x

Thank you Magpie 💖

For gaze, from Four Seasons, one of my personal favourites.

Malfoy’s gaze flicked up from the group argument about whether the duelling had been difficult or not, and met Harry’s. His eyes narrowed briefly with an expression Harry couldn’t read before he slipped out the front door. He’d left his coat behind in the teetering pile on the barstool, so he wasn’t going home yet, at least.

Harry waited a moment before following Malfoy out into the cold.

He stood out front, flicking open the top of an old fashioned lighter with a sharp click and closed it again. No cigarettes in sight, nor did he seem to be reaching for one. Their breath misted in the crisp night.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“Potter,” Malfoy acknowledged. Click. Close. The streetlight gleamed in his hair and Draco tilted his face upwards into the night air. Harry knew by now that it meant something that he found him interesting.

[gryfferin-gaybies]

Excerpt from a fanfic I'll never write

"Draco, please," Harry said. "It meant nothing. She meant nothing to me." His hair was a mess from tugging his hands through it so many times. His green eyes pleaded with Draco as they stared into his own gray ones with a desperation nearly palpable.

If Draco were to pinpoint the moment his heart broke, it would be then. Not earlier that morning when he learned of Harry's affair, not after work when he confronted Harry, not moments before when Harry had said the words aloud, confessing to Draco's worst nightmare. It wasn't later that evening when Draco walked away from the conversation, not the next few nights he spent alone for the first time in years on Pansy's sofa, not a week later when he broke up with Harry, not even when they signed the divorce papers months down the road, officially disentangling their lives once and for all after nearly a decade of marriage. No, if he had to narrow it down to one specific time, it would be then. As he stared at Harry's expression filled with panic and shame listening to him admit that he threw away years of love and devotion for something meaningless.

Draco cleared his throat. When the telltale lump of unshed tears didn't dissipate, he spoke around it, without breaking the eye contact. "Clearly neither did I nor our relationship."

"Draco, that's not true!" Harry reached for him but he stepped just out of reach. "We were fighting— I was angry— I was hurt and-and drunk and I wanted to hurt you, to get your attention."

"Well, you certainly succeeded." Draco couldn't bear to look at him any longer, couldn't listen to any more of his words. He turned to leave.

"I love you! You know I love you!" Harry called from behind him. He followed Draco all the way to the Floo, begging as he did so. "Please, Draco! Please don't go. Just stay, fight it out with me. We fight all the time. Just fight this out with me. Please! I love you. I'm sorry." Harry's voice cracked on the last five words. It was the first time he'd apologized since Draco had confronted him.

Draco froze in his tracks. He wanted the words to be enough. He wanted to be able to forgive his husband. He wanted to be able to fix it. For a split second, he wondered if they could be enough, if he could make them be enough.

But he knew they never would be. He knew nothing would ever be enough. "I love you too, Harry," Draco stated. Then he left.

[amidnightjen]

CW: major character death, brief descriptions of blood and injury.

It was Kreacher who found him in the end. Kreacher who entered the auror offices, hands wringing and head bowed.

Ron knew it was bad news. His stomach lurched and as he sank to his knees before Kreacher he knew. He knew.

“Master Harry is with Master Draco.”

…that was not what Ron had been expecting to hear. Before he could ask, before he could demand an explanation, Kreacher held out one hand, expression solemn.

“I is taking you to Master Harry.”

Ron took Kreacher’s hand, felt the tug and twist of apparation, and then - and then he saw Harry.

His best friend was slumped against a headstone, head drooping onto his chest, hands slack by his side. His chest was soaked with blood. The sound that escaped Ron then was broken, a sob torn from him as he fell to his knees and reached a cautious hand out to Harry to check what he already knew.

And it was only then that he saw the name on the headstone.

Draco Malfoy.

Master Harry is with Master Draco.

[magpiefngrl]

'Almond' for the word excerpt ask game? <3

Hey babe, thanks for asking!

What a word! I was pretty sure I'd never written it, and indeed, I couldn't find a single instance across all my fics, published or WIPs.

Then I started searching for the word 'nuts', went through several fics, and I eventually came across one instance of 'hazelnuts' in The Boy Who Died:

Malfoy would leave in the morning, in his now customary all black, the signet ring flashing on his left hand, and he’d return at nightfall, usually with a treat for Harry. Fresh strawberries in November, starthistle and brown sugar cupcakes, bite-sized treacle tarts, roasted hazelnuts. Harry wondered if Malfoy intended to fatten him up and eat him; if he’d somehow escaped the swift death by the Harriers for a more gruesome death in Malfoy’s oven.

send me a word and I'll give yous an excerpt

[innoodlewetrust]

“That’s quite nasty, isn’t it?” Harry says, pointing to the Dark Mark.

“It makes for an okay reminder,” Draco says.

“Of what you were?” Harry asks, absurdly generous.

Draco has to take a breath. “Of who I want to be.”

— All Things Go by iota

[bitkahuna]

“In response to recent rumors that a student has been repeatedly drugged with love potions, we will all be learning to brew the antidote. Do remember that drugging someone with a love potion is just that, drugging, and it will be treated with all the swiftness and severity the word implies.” Snape spoke in a stern tone.

Harry was almost impressed by the level of responsibility that Hogwarts seemed to be taking for the situation. Though he would later find out from Padma that it was about McCoy and Knight, and thankfully, neither were under any sort of influence.

Beside their cauldron, there was also a mirror and a bottle of Beguiling Bubbles. While Draco got their supplies, Snape explained that Beguiling Bubbles was chosen as their test potion because, rather than the person who gives them the potion, it makes the drinker fall for the first person they see. Hence, they were meant to look in the mirror to avoid any unwanted or inappropriate affections.

Draco spread their ingredients out and immediately put Harry to work, chopping various ingredients as Draco fiddled with the temperature of the flame to get a rolling boil going.

“While you were gone, Snape said to keep the boil rolling through the whole process and that Beguiling Bubbles is-”

“I know what he said, Potter.” Draco frowned as he fiddled with the flame, trying to get it perfect.

“Yea, but Beguiling Bubbles causing the dri-”

“Will you please let me focus!”

Harry cracked a smile, nodding. Either he knew or he didn’t. It wasn’t Harry’s problem anymore.

Draco continued to be a pompous ass throughout the brewing process, constantly telling Harry what to do and stopping him at multiple points before class was down to its final fifteen minutes. It was time for someone to take the love potion.

“Go on then, Potter.”

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You know I brewed this perfectly.”

“We.” Harry asserted. “We brewed this perfectly.” Harry then just shook his head as he grabbed the love potion, setting it before himself. “It doesn’t matter. What I was trying to tell you earlier, Malfoy, is that you didn’t listen when Snape said t-”

“I know what I’m doing, Potter! I’m certain such trivial details are very helpful for those lacking in skill, but I’m not so pitiful as to require them!”

The next twenty seconds were quite possibly some of the funniest since the afterparty.

Draco snatched the potion from in front of Harry, drank it all, and then, slowly, Harry watched a frown settle on his face as he stared at Harry.

-----

One day, Draco Malfoy will learn to shut the fuck up and listen ... today is not that day

[lqtraintracks]

Hello darling, how about ‘dance’, ‘laugh’, and ‘sigh’ for the word ask game! ❤️

Although I use it in ‘check this hand’, it’s not in the actual lap dance scene, which is... interesting. :D I thought about doing the lap dance from Bolts too, or ‘let me see you stripped’, but then I remembered that Take You Home is a clubbing fic, rife with dancing! So here are the third and sixteenth occurrence of the word. Thanks, Bella! <3

Draco Malfoy writhes on the dancefloor like a wisp of smoke, his undulating body caught in sharp flashes that bisect his fluid movements, shining light on his face one moment—his eyes closed in something that looks like ecstasy—leaving him in the dark the next.

and later...

They dance for what is probably hours but feels like minutes. Around three songs in, Malfoy had asked—close, his lips against Harry’s ear—“Do you want to go to the loo and let me suck you off?”

[fifiistar]

“I am no longer my own,” Draco said quietly, something of a whisper. “I am yours, as you are mine, bound together in ways even fate couldn’t sever."

[k-kizkhalifa]

oh have an excerpt from a fic i am working on bc i really loved this scene. ugh. draco being an adult. harry being a little nervous and uncomfortable. (probably posting the first part later today).

bro "kizinold anon" said the word: pink, and i said: lets write a WHOLE FKN FIC.

anyway, here is this:

Harry walked back down the hallway, thirty minutes later to find his whole den a mess. Draco, with his sleeves rolled up, was standing at the coffee table that he cleared off by quite literally just swiping everything to a pile on the floor, with Harry’s cup of coffee in hand  taking a drink. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

“Piles, organization, whatever you want to call it,” Draco answered after he swallowed, “why haven’t you told anyone about this?” 

“You all are so busy,” Harry shrugged, as he looked down at the coffee table. He eyes drug over Draco’s neat handwriting, Dementor Attacks. Werewolves Missing. Trolls Traveling. A piece of parchment sat above all else that read: North. 

“You think it is nothing?” 

“I plan on doing some asking around,” Harry lifted a shoulder, not meeting Draco’s look, “I’ll take care of it.” 

Draco frowned, “you know we’re all pretty capable wizards, though I do question that Boot, bloke, sometimes.” 

Harry chuckled, “why do you question Boot?” 

“He’s…” Draco lifted a slender shoulder, smiling, “not always friendly, let’s say.” 

“What?” 

Draco shrugged, “anyway, the point I’m trying to make, Potter. Is that you have a pretty capable team. Oh, Creevy is a shit show too.” He sighed, “you have about four of us, in office at all times, that are pretty damn good at what we do.” Draco couldn't really speak on the other team that they rotated at Azkaban with.

Harry smiled, “I know you all are good at what you do, that’s why I get to focus on these things.” 

“Is this about obligations outside the Ministry?” 

Harry sighed, and reached out taking his coffee mug from Draco, before he took his own drink and handed it back, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Everyone has their lives, they deserve to be able to go home and live them.” 

“I feel, just speaking out of hand here, Potter, but that means you get to live life outside of the Ministry, as well.” 

“I do,” Harry looked down at the table again, “so, it’s a lot of movement.” 

“It is,” Draco answered, “felt anything in that scar of yours, lately?” 

“Uhm, no.” Harry rubbed at the scar at the mention of it, “as far as I know, even if it was something to do with Voldemort, whatever part of him was inside of me is dead now. Right? Like that’s why I’m standing here, talking to you, Draco.” 

“Right, of course.” Draco nodded, “no, I haven’t felt anything either.” 

“I wasn't going to ask.” Harry said quickly, his eyes still trained on the papers, “I don’t imagine it’s Voldemort. I would like to think I managed that.” 

Draco chuckled, rolling his eyes, “right, of course.” He moved around Harry’s den, taking another drink of the coffee, as he sat on the edge of the armchair with a tired sigh. “Didn’t Weasley and Boot just take down that small group?” 

“A few weeks ago,” Harry nodded, his eyes drawn to the pink bag. He hated the fact he thought it, again. The thought of Draco Malfoy being the one to wear that pink lingerie set. He turned, forcing himself to look at the papers and willing his erection to just go away. “Why?” 

“Did they say anything? About things like this?” 

“Oh,” Harry cleared his throat and walked over to his briefcase, finding the report and pulling it out. He looked down at it, willing himself to just focus on reading it and not on the fact Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be wearing the pink lingerie set, but that his girlfriend would, and there wasn’t anything Harry could do about it. 

“Well?” 

Harry jumped, before shaking his head, “uh, sorry, Ron’s handwriting….” He sat the report on his desk, “looks like it was just a group of kids thinking about doing black market trades.” 

“Oh,” Draco frowned, “I’m sure they were beaten all to hell.” He added, quietly, finishing the coffee. 

Harry glanced over at the word choice, “what did ya mean Boot wasn’t always friendly?” 

“He’s a little heavy handed,” Draco lifted a shoulder, “okay, so, these reports have started coming in over the last few weeks, right?” 

“Yes, just a bit now.” Harry moved, sitting on the couch opposite Draco, watching the blonde think as he tried to work through it all. 

“What’s North? Besides cold?” His lips turned down, his eyes closed, and then he stood up and looked around. Harry watched him, confused, as the blonde seemed to make himself comfortable with the layout of Harry’s house. He grabbed the coffee mug, walked through the living room, and into the kitchen. Harry turned to watch him, wondering if Draco was like this everywhere he went. He heard him pouring himself another coffee, “cream?” He called, but before Harry could answer he heard the ice box open. 

Harry sat back, on the couch, and then Draco was next to him holding out a warm mug of coffee, just the way it had been. Harry noticed it was a new mug, Draco keeping the one he had been drinking out of. The one, really, Harry had been using before Draco appeared on his doorstep. 

“Azkaban,” Draco said quietly, moving to sit next to Harry, rather than across from him. “But, what is on the island these creatures could want?” He frowned, “aside from the prison?” 

Harry took a drink, trying not to look at the blonde who was making himself very comfortable. He frowned as the words settled around him. “I mean it is very well guarded.” 

Draco nodded, “I’m aware. Have you been out there lately?”

[justheretop0st]

WIP: You Shouldn’t Trust Me

“Out for a nightly walk, Potter? Out of every inch of this castle and you choose to follow me?” Draco kept his wand trained on Potter as he stood.

“So vain Draco,” having flown up ten feet, Draco almost laughed at Harry needing to take a few needed breaths, “No one would follow you willingly. I just know you’re up to something. Katie didn’t fall ill of her own accord.” ‘Colloshoo.’

[skeptiquewrites]

love this!!! How about 'silver' or 'forest'?

Thank you, Starry my love. How about this from my WIP Control (since it's my next long WIP which I was calling spy fic):

Briony didn’t speak for a few long moments. “It can’t have been a miracle, in the way people mean. I mean, with the Killing Curse, a second time.” She tapped the spot on his right shoulder where a second lightning bolt scar matched the first. “What happened that night?”

“The curse rebounded. I don’t know what to tell you,” Harry said. In his mind’s eye, he sometimes had flashes. A long walk through the Forbidden Forest, a whisper to a Snitch, the station at King’s Cross, one last spell with an unfamiliar wand. It caught his breath in his chest and he shook the memories away.

“But you know why.”