#lksdfjlskdflwf

[faiell]

Trash Tuesday

ok yes it's Saturday, almost Sunday, but whatever!! thank u @kamaela and @phoenixortheflame for tagging me! this is a not edited, not fully-formed tidbit from a thing i wrote ages ago, from a longfic idea (HA) which idk what will happen to, so it may be trash or it may get rescued. ok whatever im doing it

“You’re not Harry Potter,” Draco said, gaze fixed pointedly away from the Auror who had just entered the room. He sat with as much grace as could be mustered in the stark steel chair that was cutting into his rear. His chin was balanced in a considering manner against one hand, and he leaned his shoulders forward, just so—a practiced pose, as if he were entertaining guests in his own parlor. The only thing that belied his current situation was the pair of crude iron shackles around his wrists. 

It was honestly barbaric--Draco could feel his magic withering up inside them. And although the humiliation was nothing new, it still burned.

He distracted himself from it by circling his fingers over the faint indents pockmarking his side of the table. Bite marks, he realized, as he traced a divot that seemed very canine. Leaving them there was surely just an intimidation tactic. The DMLE was not so full of incompetent bastards that they couldn’t set it right with a simple Reparo.

The Auror took the seat opposite him. “You’re a criminal. You don’t get to make demands.”

Draco’s lip twitched, and he finally gave the Auror a once-over. She seemed young—a rookie, then. He let out a dramatic sigh and leaned back, pulling on his shackles so that the chain snaked to the floor with a loud rattle. “That’s word for word what the last one said. Does Robards train you all to be copies of the same person?”

At his taunting of her superior, she flushed, and the knuckles of her hand went white. Hot-blooded twats, the lot of them, he thought. Draco’s lip still stung from what the last Auror had thought about his smart-mouthed comments.

“You talk big, but I know who you are,” she said, turning up her nose at him. “You’re just some washed up Death Eater.”

She was too young to really know what that meant. Draco gave her an icy smile. “Correct. And you’re just the person stuck here with me until Potter arrives. As I’ve said repeatedly, I won’t answer questions to anyone else."

She sniffed. “Sure. If he’ll even come for the likes of you.” 

“He’ll come,” he said. 

She shrugged, and, mercifully, decided to disregard him from that point onwards. He was thankful for the silence as he sat there, ignoring the growing pit in his stomach that came with waiting for The Boy Who Lived (And Who Probably Still Hated Him). Her last jab had been uncomfortably close to the possibility that was now gnawing at Draco’s core—Harry could very well ignore his plea and refuse to question him. Then Draco would be well and truly fucked. 

He could only hope that Harry had changed his mind in the weeks since their confrontation—that he’d decided Draco was worth giving another chance to, or at the very least, worth a listen.

Mostly, Draco thought it would be nice if Harry would look at him one more time.

okay i'll post a lil bit more from this :/ i found some more non-cringey parts. throwing the trash at yall.

“Malfoy,” sighed Harry. He rubbed at his eyes before settling down in the seat the other Auror had just vacated. “There had better be a good reason for this.”

“You came,” Draco said, immediately diverging from the script he’d written in his head during the last hour. 

Harry gave Draco a little smile, the kind that tugged up only one side of his lip. “Almost didn’t. But it’s not every day Draco Malfoy turns himself into the DMLE for, what was it?” He read out loud from the little file in front of him. “Unauthorized production of controlled potions.”

Draco shrugged, trying not to be disarmed by Harry’s unexpectedly mellow behavior. “I expect they’ve already ransacked my flat by now.”

Harry turned a page in the report and nodded. “They did. And you know what they found?”

No, he didn’t. But he could imagine.

Any levity on Harry’s face had vanished. He pinned Draco with a furrowed gaze. “Dark Magic, Malfoy. Lots of it. Your entire place was a death trap. The first two Aurors to arrive on scene are at St. Mungo’s.”

“Merlin,” Draco breathed, eyes wide. “Are they…?”

Harry studied him for a long moment before he spoke. “They’ll be fine. They were smart enough to trigger the curse indirectly, though it still nearly blasted them to pieces. It seems they had some sort of warning.”

His hastily scribbled message had been somewhat heeded. Draco let out a small sigh of relief.

Harry folded his arms now, jaw setting in the way that it did when he was feeling particularly stubborn. He sounded reproachful. “Apparently, you’ve refused to say a word to anyone but me. Well I’m here now, so talk.”

Talking. That was usually one of his talents. Draco avoided Harry’s intense gaze, looking instead at an ink stain that marred the deep red robes near his elbow. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated several times without managing to produce any sound. 

“You’re not going to like this,” he settled on finally, voice muffled while he rubbed a hand down his face.

tagging @pl0tty @smehur @sleepstxtic @jtimu @citrusses and anyone else reading this!! I LOVE READING THESE SO PLEASE TAG ME IF YOU DO IT so that i don't miss it!!