Ron waited sullenly outside the Great Hall, he hated himself for doing this to Harry – but he hadn’t seen him in days, he was too busy mooning around with Ginny to notice Ron any more.
Draco Malfoy strode out, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him. Goyle aimed a kick at Ron’s shin as they walked past, but Malfoy snarled,
“Leave him, Goyle. That runt’s not worth it.” Crabbe and Goyle giggled obediently, but Malfoy winked at Ron.
Later that evening, naked and breathless in each other’s arms, Ron asked Malfoy,
“Why are you such a git?”
“Because I like it.”
Showing posts with label draco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label draco. Show all posts
February 11, 2008
January 29, 2008
Dirty Harry Drabble #3
It was dusk, the sun slid gently behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Harry, under his cloak, stepped behind a giant fir and waited for Draco Malfoy. A few minutes later, Draco peered into the growing gloom.
“Are you in here, Potter?” he asked shakily, he hated coming into the forest. Harry whipped his cloak off, and stood naked before Malfoy, who shrieked with delight and stripped his clothes off too.
Darkness saw Draco kneeling behind Harry, one hand gripping his hair, the other rubbing up and down his spine.
“Harry, you’re filthy.”
“I know.”
“I meant the mud.”
“Are you in here, Potter?” he asked shakily, he hated coming into the forest. Harry whipped his cloak off, and stood naked before Malfoy, who shrieked with delight and stripped his clothes off too.
Darkness saw Draco kneeling behind Harry, one hand gripping his hair, the other rubbing up and down his spine.
“Harry, you’re filthy.”
“I know.”
“I meant the mud.”
October 31, 2007
Ron/Draco Drabble #2
It was past midnight in the Forbidden Forest. Ron, Draco and some Hufflepuffs had detention. Hagrid had told Ron off for letting Malfoy goad him into duelling. As a further punishment, Ron had been paired with Draco for the detention.
“No fightin’.” Roared Hagrid as he stomped off with the three terrified looking Hufflepuffs. As soon as they had disappeared from view, Malfoy pushed Ron hard against a tree. His hands slid underneath Ron’s robe, and his mouth pressed on to Ron’s.
“Malfoy, what are you doing?” said Ron thickly.
“You love it.” Replied Draco, as Ron pulled him closer.
“No fightin’.” Roared Hagrid as he stomped off with the three terrified looking Hufflepuffs. As soon as they had disappeared from view, Malfoy pushed Ron hard against a tree. His hands slid underneath Ron’s robe, and his mouth pressed on to Ron’s.
“Malfoy, what are you doing?” said Ron thickly.
“You love it.” Replied Draco, as Ron pulled him closer.
April 18, 2007
Ron/Draco Drabble #1
Ron twirled his fingers in the smooth blonde hair, as Draco’s head moved gently up and down. He tickled the tiny, pink ears and drew lines over the pale eyebrows and down the flushed cheeks; all the while gasping slightly as Malfoy urgently took his breath away.
It was risky, being that they were in a deserted secret passage, it was one Harry had shown Ron last term; there was a chance he could walk in any minute. Ron let his mind wander over Harry yet again, and wished it were him kneeling on the stone floor, and not Draco.
It was risky, being that they were in a deserted secret passage, it was one Harry had shown Ron last term; there was a chance he could walk in any minute. Ron let his mind wander over Harry yet again, and wished it were him kneeling on the stone floor, and not Draco.
December 13, 2006
Harry/Draco Drabble #2
Harry pulled Draco close, his hand pressing that skinny little neck against him. His other hand slid softly down Draco’s smooth back, his fingers leisurely stroking the white skin of his bum. Draco let out a slow moan as Harry reached between his cheeks, pressed his finger on Draco’s warmest spot; their kiss deepened as they shifted on the blanket. Now it was Harry’s turn to gasp as Draco held him in his fierce grip, slowly teasing his hand up and down. He bit the blonde boy’s lip.
“I hate you, Malfoy.” Said Harry.
“I hate you too.” Answered Draco.
“I hate you, Malfoy.” Said Harry.
“I hate you too.” Answered Draco.
November 30, 2006
Harry/Draco Drabble #1
It was late, so late that it was actually early, and the night was dark. In a corridor on the fifth floor the two boys stood side by side, silently looking around to check if the coast was clear. When they were sure it was, the dark-haired boy ducked behind a tapestry and the blonde-haired boy followed. Draco was already stripped to the waist; he ripped open Harry’s pyjama shirt and pressed their naked chests together, as he kissed him full on the mouth. Malfoy smiled inwardly to feel Harry against his leg. It would, hopefully, be a long night.
February 11, 2006
Cornered
“Gotcha!” shouted Harry, grabbing Draco by the front of his robes.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Potter?” Malfoy shouted back at him, “Get off me!”
“No chance,” said Harry, tightening his grip on Malfoy and dragging him through the nearest door, “you’re going to tell me what you’ve been getting up to.” He shut the door of the empty classroom behind them and threw Malfoy into the nearest chair, which he immediately made to get up from, until he saw that Harry’s wand was pointing directly at his forehead.
Draco had beads of sweat on his upper lip, betraying the calm and disdainful expression he wore on his pale face. He crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands in his lap,
“Where have you been disappearing to?” demanded Harry, pleased to see that Malfoy was now trembling visibly. He slumped in his seat, hands at his sides,
“I’ve got nothing to tell you,” he said dejectedly, “it doesn’t matter now anyway.” This sudden change in Draco’s attitude threw Harry totally, but keeping his guard up he raised his wand again and asked,
“What doesn’t matter anymore? Why doesn’t it matter any more?” he paused, “I heard you talking to Borgin, I know who your new master is.” If Harry was surprised at Malfoy’s sudden despondency, the miserable grimace now spreading over his face spoke volumes,
“Fuck off, Harry.” he said quietly, crossing his arms. Harry’s wand hand wavered slightly, then immediately he realised he was feeling sorry for Malfoy – but also intrigued, to his knowledge Malfoy had only ever used his first name only once before. “I hate you so much, Potter. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s mutual, Malfoy.” Spat Harry bitterly. To his utter amazement, Malfoy began to cry. He turned away from Harry and tried to hide his sobs, by covering his face with his hands. Harry was at a loss as to what to do, his immediate reaction was to console the crying boy, but it was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy crying in his presence.
Harry put his hand on Draco’s shoulder and asked, grudgingly,
“Are you okay?” Malfoy looked up at him, stricken, tears flowing down his face,
“Do I fucking look okay?” he put his hand on Harry’s, then said more quietly, “Don’t yell at me.”
Harry’s mind was in a whirl – had Malfoy gone completely insane, or maybe he was under the Imperius curse, either option was more than likely, and Malfoy hadn’t removed his hand from Harry’s yet.
He stood up, tightening his grip on Harry’s fingers,
“You don’t know how hard it is, Harry,” the name uncomfortable on Malfoy’s tongue, “I said I didn’t want to do it. I said I couldn’t.” before he had a chance to react, Malfoy put his other hand on the back of Harry’s neck, pulled him in close and pressed his lips to Harry’s mouth. Harry pulled away looking horrified, he opened his mouth to speak but Malfoy stopped him,
“Shut up, okay? Just shut up, Potter. Pretend I’m Ron Weasley or something.” he said thickly, and pushed Harry down on to a chair. Harry was dumbfounded, and simply watched agape as Malfoy climbed on to him, one leg either side. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Malfoy, his enemy, his nemesis, ran his fingers up into the wild shock of dark hair. The boys sat looking at each other; Malfoy, still tearful, idly teasing the ends of Harry’s hair – Harry still shocked and wishing he wasn’t enjoying this sensation. They kissed again, slower this time, gently exploring with lips and tongue. Harry started to get hard, and was somewhat pleased (and thoroughly appalled) to feel Malfoy getting hard as well. Malfoy, whose tears had dried by now, slowly moved up and down in Harry’s lap, pressing their hardness together.
Harry broke off the kiss,
“Draco,” Malfoy’s name being equally uncomfortable on his tongue, “we can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Sudden hatred sprang to Malfoy’s eyes, and he got up off Harry immediately.
“Fuck you then, Potter,” he retorted, raising his voice, “you poof.” He grabbed his schoolbag and ran from the classroom, new tears in his eyes.
Harry sat, perplexed, absent-mindedly feeling the tent at the front of his grey trousers. He realised what he was doing and stood up with a start. He still didn’t know what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor. Thinking of what he had just done, Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and hurried off to find Ron and Hermione – they would hear an abridged version of what had just happened.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Potter?” Malfoy shouted back at him, “Get off me!”
“No chance,” said Harry, tightening his grip on Malfoy and dragging him through the nearest door, “you’re going to tell me what you’ve been getting up to.” He shut the door of the empty classroom behind them and threw Malfoy into the nearest chair, which he immediately made to get up from, until he saw that Harry’s wand was pointing directly at his forehead.
Draco had beads of sweat on his upper lip, betraying the calm and disdainful expression he wore on his pale face. He crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands in his lap,
“Where have you been disappearing to?” demanded Harry, pleased to see that Malfoy was now trembling visibly. He slumped in his seat, hands at his sides,
“I’ve got nothing to tell you,” he said dejectedly, “it doesn’t matter now anyway.” This sudden change in Draco’s attitude threw Harry totally, but keeping his guard up he raised his wand again and asked,
“What doesn’t matter anymore? Why doesn’t it matter any more?” he paused, “I heard you talking to Borgin, I know who your new master is.” If Harry was surprised at Malfoy’s sudden despondency, the miserable grimace now spreading over his face spoke volumes,
“Fuck off, Harry.” he said quietly, crossing his arms. Harry’s wand hand wavered slightly, then immediately he realised he was feeling sorry for Malfoy – but also intrigued, to his knowledge Malfoy had only ever used his first name only once before. “I hate you so much, Potter. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s mutual, Malfoy.” Spat Harry bitterly. To his utter amazement, Malfoy began to cry. He turned away from Harry and tried to hide his sobs, by covering his face with his hands. Harry was at a loss as to what to do, his immediate reaction was to console the crying boy, but it was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy crying in his presence.
Harry put his hand on Draco’s shoulder and asked, grudgingly,
“Are you okay?” Malfoy looked up at him, stricken, tears flowing down his face,
“Do I fucking look okay?” he put his hand on Harry’s, then said more quietly, “Don’t yell at me.”
Harry’s mind was in a whirl – had Malfoy gone completely insane, or maybe he was under the Imperius curse, either option was more than likely, and Malfoy hadn’t removed his hand from Harry’s yet.
He stood up, tightening his grip on Harry’s fingers,
“You don’t know how hard it is, Harry,” the name uncomfortable on Malfoy’s tongue, “I said I didn’t want to do it. I said I couldn’t.” before he had a chance to react, Malfoy put his other hand on the back of Harry’s neck, pulled him in close and pressed his lips to Harry’s mouth. Harry pulled away looking horrified, he opened his mouth to speak but Malfoy stopped him,
“Shut up, okay? Just shut up, Potter. Pretend I’m Ron Weasley or something.” he said thickly, and pushed Harry down on to a chair. Harry was dumbfounded, and simply watched agape as Malfoy climbed on to him, one leg either side. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Malfoy, his enemy, his nemesis, ran his fingers up into the wild shock of dark hair. The boys sat looking at each other; Malfoy, still tearful, idly teasing the ends of Harry’s hair – Harry still shocked and wishing he wasn’t enjoying this sensation. They kissed again, slower this time, gently exploring with lips and tongue. Harry started to get hard, and was somewhat pleased (and thoroughly appalled) to feel Malfoy getting hard as well. Malfoy, whose tears had dried by now, slowly moved up and down in Harry’s lap, pressing their hardness together.
Harry broke off the kiss,
“Draco,” Malfoy’s name being equally uncomfortable on his tongue, “we can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Sudden hatred sprang to Malfoy’s eyes, and he got up off Harry immediately.
“Fuck you then, Potter,” he retorted, raising his voice, “you poof.” He grabbed his schoolbag and ran from the classroom, new tears in his eyes.
Harry sat, perplexed, absent-mindedly feeling the tent at the front of his grey trousers. He realised what he was doing and stood up with a start. He still didn’t know what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor. Thinking of what he had just done, Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and hurried off to find Ron and Hermione – they would hear an abridged version of what had just happened.
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