Fic: Photo album, Snapshot 3
Jan. 20th, 2006 07:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asimplechordSnapshot Title: The next morning
Warnings: fluff, a bad word, some wank mentioned
Rating: PG13, I suppose.
Disclaimer: I only wish these characters were mine. But since the things I'd do to them would be obscene, perhaps it's for the best that they belong to JKR, Scholastic, etc.
A/N: Again, written during lunchbreak and unbeta'd, so probably mistakes galore. Seems awkward and stilted to me, and I have a serious issue going back and forth between simple past and past perfect in this bit - the boys are thinking about what happened last night, but even their ponderings are in the simple past. *sigh* Apologies if it is too confusing. But I wanted to get this posted tonight, because I'm going down to see MrIris's grandparents for a day or two, and I couldn't bear to have it stewing in my head while I had no internet access. Instead I'll stew on the next scene. Or the sequel to Blue.
And BTW, do you think it's a Freudian slip that I keep typing 'Snapeshot' by mistake?
Harry lounged in his bed and considered skipping breakfast, but he decided that would be a sign of guilt or discomfort about his actions the previous night. Although he was sorry that part of the scene had played out to such an avid audience, he could find no regret for his words to Ginny. He had never been interested in her in a romantic or sexual sense. He had, in fact, worried a bit that he wasn’t attracted to anyone when he finally had the time to devote to such a trivial concern. He hadn’t been since his ill-fated crush on Cho Chang; he had been too busy and too stressed after his godfather’s death to consider adding another distraction to his already full plate. Instead, he had funneled his affection toward his friends and his surrogate family, the Weasleys.
Harry wasn’t completely unaware of his own appeal to men and women alike, and he could appreciate the charms of both sexes, but he had had precious little time to contemplate or act upon his desires. Since Voldemort had been defeated, that had changed, and while he found the curve of breast and dainty waist attractive, the strength of a masculine hand and stretch of broad shoulders were even more alluring. Only his desire not to have his first sexual experience announced to the world via the Daily Prophet’s front page had kept him from acting. In the last month he had narrowed his preference even further, to a certain blond Slytherin.
At first he hadn’t understood. The dance lesson Draco had given him had ended on a somewhat awkward note, and then Draco had hurried back to the castle. Harry had felt unexpectedly bereft when Draco excused himself from their normal planning-period coffees and pre-dinner Quidditch play. He had considered approaching Draco to ask if all was well, but he had been afraid to hear the answer. After going over their last conversation in his head, Harry had come to a conclusion, but he thought perhaps it was his own wishful thinking: was Draco jealous? It couldn’t be over Ginny; Harry was well aware of the animosity on both sides of that relationship. That left only himself as the object of desire and the reason for Draco's avoidance. He had been afraid to put too much hope into that speculation until he had run into Draco at the Ball. Draco’s lack of a companion and his annoyance at Ginny had confirmed Harry’s suspicions.
Last night, he and Draco had returned to the Great Hall only briefly. They’d meant to stay longer, but the whispers and staring eyes that had followed them during their circle of the room had grated on their nerves. Instead, they’d grabbed some refreshments and headed to the Room of Requirement with the intention of finding a quiet place to talk and maybe dance more.
When the door had appeared and swung open, they had found, rather than a comfortable place for conversation, a room staged for seduction. When the two surprised young men entered the room, they realized why: the Head Boy and Head Girl were locked in a clinch on the chaise longue by the low-burning fire, oblivious to the romantic surroundings. Once they were past their shock, Harry and Draco had separated the pair and escorted them back to the Yule Ball, ignoring the panicked and embarrassed expressions that appeared when they were reminded of their dates, neglected in the Great Hall.
Harry had not been able to hold back: as soon as the Great Hall doors shut behind the miscreants he had burst into laughter. Draco had simply smiled his sardonic smirk, leaving Harry to wonder if he was amused by the students or by him.
When Draco escorted Harry to his rooms, they had loitered outside, reluctant to part. Finally Draco had wished Harry a goodnight.
Harry had been paralyzed by shyness, unable to act, but Draco had followed his words by leaning closer to brush a kiss across Harry’s lips. When there was no objection, he had repeated the action, this time parting his lips slightly to swipe his tongue gently across Harry’s lips. Harry’s eyes had closed, and the eyelids felt almost too heavy to lift when he opened them to see what Draco was doing when he pulled back. He had focused first on slightly parted, glazed lips, and then looked into darkened grey eyes. When Draco leaned forward again, Harry closed his eyes in anticipation. This time, however, a chaste kiss landed on his forehead. He heard a quiet, “Get to bed, I’ll see you at breakfast,” and the brush of expensive leather soles on the flagstones. When he opened his eyes, Draco was gone.
Harry rolled over and clutched his pillow, thinking about that kiss, enjoying the slow heat that it had sent pooling in his belly. Finally he got up. Seeing Draco would be worth receiving Molly’s Howler at the breakfast table.
Draco was awake before he needed to be. He had been unable to sleep, his mind racing, filled with thoughts and plans, all centered around Harry.
He had been afraid that his abrupt withdrawal from Harry’s presence had been noticed, but also afraid that it would not be. He’d known how oblivious Harry was to his feelings, but the clueless response that Harry had given about Ginny after their first dance together had tweaked his jealousy and hurt. Draco knew that Harry found men attractive – he’d seen him ogle the bartender at the Three Broomsticks more than once - but he had nearly given up on the possibility that Harry would ever want more than his friendship.
Last night’s argument with Weasley had been building all evening; he had seen from across the Hall how Harry’s irritation had grown, then his embarrassment had exploded, giving Draco the opportunity he had hoped for. The dance they’d shared had ended too soon, in Draco’s opinion. But he wouldn’t complain, because short as it had been, it had also accomplished something Draco had not expected: it had pried the barnacle that was Ginny Weasley off of Harry. Not that he believed this was permanent; the bitch was too persistent and too obsessed for Draco to believe she’d given up after only one fight.
Draco had decided that he’d let Harry set the pace in their relationship, but he’d been disappointed when their plans for the Room of Requirement had been co-opted by the Head Students. Still, the evening had ended on satisfactory note with that utterly sweet kiss.
As he lay there, thinking of it, he could feel the arousal he had experienced from Harry’s innocent, inexperienced response slide through him again. He’d had to leave Harry at his door last night, and the first thing he’d done when he got to his own rooms was wank, imagining himself and Harry entwined as the two students they’d reprimanded had been. For the first time, he had allowed himself to say Harry’s name aloud when he came, rather than biting his lip to hold the thought in.
A few minutes later, he did so for the second time.
*****
Breathless with anticipation, Harry and Draco met in the Entrance Hall. They stood facing each other, silent, almost vibrating with suppressed excitement. Finally Draco cocked his head toward the Great Hall and gestured Harry in. They found seats next to each other easily enough – most of the professors had already eaten and returned to whatever pursuits occupied their free time, and only Professor Flitwick was still eating. Halfway through the meal Hermione came in. She smiled at Draco and sat down on Harry’s other side, starting a conversation with the Charms professor as she poured herself tea.
Harry and Draco chatted desultorily as they finished their tea, deliberately avoiding discussion of the Ball and ignoring the rustle of the pages of the Daily Prophet elsewhere at the table. They had risen to leave when a snowy owl soared into the Great Hall. Hedwig, who mainly traveled back and forth between Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place, headed toward them. Draco expected a smoking letter to be dropped on the table in front of him or Harry, but Hedwig glided closer and landed in front of his abandoned plate before extending her leg in his direction. Once Draco had removed the scroll, she hopped onto Harry’s shoulder and prodded him to take the other parchment she carried. He did so, but procrastinated, sitting back down and sipping more tea before opening it.
Draco reluctantly sat and unrolled his parchment.
Draco sat stunned for a moment before turning to Harry, who wore an expression of overwhelmed relief.
“Molly…” Harry had to stop to clear his throat. “Molly asked after you. She says she invited you for the holiday? Are you coming?”
“Only if you want me. I don’t want to make things more difficult for you.”
“You’ll make them bearable.”
Will Harry wake to find something good in his stocking? What will Ginny say to Draco's presence at Christmas dinner? Wouldn't you like to know? Hmm, actually, I would like to know....
Warnings: fluff, a bad word, some wank mentioned
Rating: PG13, I suppose.
Disclaimer: I only wish these characters were mine. But since the things I'd do to them would be obscene, perhaps it's for the best that they belong to JKR, Scholastic, etc.
A/N: Again, written during lunchbreak and unbeta'd, so probably mistakes galore. Seems awkward and stilted to me, and I have a serious issue going back and forth between simple past and past perfect in this bit - the boys are thinking about what happened last night, but even their ponderings are in the simple past. *sigh* Apologies if it is too confusing. But I wanted to get this posted tonight, because I'm going down to see MrIris's grandparents for a day or two, and I couldn't bear to have it stewing in my head while I had no internet access. Instead I'll stew on the next scene. Or the sequel to Blue.
And BTW, do you think it's a Freudian slip that I keep typing 'Snapeshot' by mistake?
Harry lounged in his bed and considered skipping breakfast, but he decided that would be a sign of guilt or discomfort about his actions the previous night. Although he was sorry that part of the scene had played out to such an avid audience, he could find no regret for his words to Ginny. He had never been interested in her in a romantic or sexual sense. He had, in fact, worried a bit that he wasn’t attracted to anyone when he finally had the time to devote to such a trivial concern. He hadn’t been since his ill-fated crush on Cho Chang; he had been too busy and too stressed after his godfather’s death to consider adding another distraction to his already full plate. Instead, he had funneled his affection toward his friends and his surrogate family, the Weasleys.
Harry wasn’t completely unaware of his own appeal to men and women alike, and he could appreciate the charms of both sexes, but he had had precious little time to contemplate or act upon his desires. Since Voldemort had been defeated, that had changed, and while he found the curve of breast and dainty waist attractive, the strength of a masculine hand and stretch of broad shoulders were even more alluring. Only his desire not to have his first sexual experience announced to the world via the Daily Prophet’s front page had kept him from acting. In the last month he had narrowed his preference even further, to a certain blond Slytherin.
At first he hadn’t understood. The dance lesson Draco had given him had ended on a somewhat awkward note, and then Draco had hurried back to the castle. Harry had felt unexpectedly bereft when Draco excused himself from their normal planning-period coffees and pre-dinner Quidditch play. He had considered approaching Draco to ask if all was well, but he had been afraid to hear the answer. After going over their last conversation in his head, Harry had come to a conclusion, but he thought perhaps it was his own wishful thinking: was Draco jealous? It couldn’t be over Ginny; Harry was well aware of the animosity on both sides of that relationship. That left only himself as the object of desire and the reason for Draco's avoidance. He had been afraid to put too much hope into that speculation until he had run into Draco at the Ball. Draco’s lack of a companion and his annoyance at Ginny had confirmed Harry’s suspicions.
Last night, he and Draco had returned to the Great Hall only briefly. They’d meant to stay longer, but the whispers and staring eyes that had followed them during their circle of the room had grated on their nerves. Instead, they’d grabbed some refreshments and headed to the Room of Requirement with the intention of finding a quiet place to talk and maybe dance more.
When the door had appeared and swung open, they had found, rather than a comfortable place for conversation, a room staged for seduction. When the two surprised young men entered the room, they realized why: the Head Boy and Head Girl were locked in a clinch on the chaise longue by the low-burning fire, oblivious to the romantic surroundings. Once they were past their shock, Harry and Draco had separated the pair and escorted them back to the Yule Ball, ignoring the panicked and embarrassed expressions that appeared when they were reminded of their dates, neglected in the Great Hall.
Harry had not been able to hold back: as soon as the Great Hall doors shut behind the miscreants he had burst into laughter. Draco had simply smiled his sardonic smirk, leaving Harry to wonder if he was amused by the students or by him.
When Draco escorted Harry to his rooms, they had loitered outside, reluctant to part. Finally Draco had wished Harry a goodnight.
Harry had been paralyzed by shyness, unable to act, but Draco had followed his words by leaning closer to brush a kiss across Harry’s lips. When there was no objection, he had repeated the action, this time parting his lips slightly to swipe his tongue gently across Harry’s lips. Harry’s eyes had closed, and the eyelids felt almost too heavy to lift when he opened them to see what Draco was doing when he pulled back. He had focused first on slightly parted, glazed lips, and then looked into darkened grey eyes. When Draco leaned forward again, Harry closed his eyes in anticipation. This time, however, a chaste kiss landed on his forehead. He heard a quiet, “Get to bed, I’ll see you at breakfast,” and the brush of expensive leather soles on the flagstones. When he opened his eyes, Draco was gone.
Harry rolled over and clutched his pillow, thinking about that kiss, enjoying the slow heat that it had sent pooling in his belly. Finally he got up. Seeing Draco would be worth receiving Molly’s Howler at the breakfast table.
Draco was awake before he needed to be. He had been unable to sleep, his mind racing, filled with thoughts and plans, all centered around Harry.
He had been afraid that his abrupt withdrawal from Harry’s presence had been noticed, but also afraid that it would not be. He’d known how oblivious Harry was to his feelings, but the clueless response that Harry had given about Ginny after their first dance together had tweaked his jealousy and hurt. Draco knew that Harry found men attractive – he’d seen him ogle the bartender at the Three Broomsticks more than once - but he had nearly given up on the possibility that Harry would ever want more than his friendship.
Last night’s argument with Weasley had been building all evening; he had seen from across the Hall how Harry’s irritation had grown, then his embarrassment had exploded, giving Draco the opportunity he had hoped for. The dance they’d shared had ended too soon, in Draco’s opinion. But he wouldn’t complain, because short as it had been, it had also accomplished something Draco had not expected: it had pried the barnacle that was Ginny Weasley off of Harry. Not that he believed this was permanent; the bitch was too persistent and too obsessed for Draco to believe she’d given up after only one fight.
Draco had decided that he’d let Harry set the pace in their relationship, but he’d been disappointed when their plans for the Room of Requirement had been co-opted by the Head Students. Still, the evening had ended on satisfactory note with that utterly sweet kiss.
As he lay there, thinking of it, he could feel the arousal he had experienced from Harry’s innocent, inexperienced response slide through him again. He’d had to leave Harry at his door last night, and the first thing he’d done when he got to his own rooms was wank, imagining himself and Harry entwined as the two students they’d reprimanded had been. For the first time, he had allowed himself to say Harry’s name aloud when he came, rather than biting his lip to hold the thought in.
A few minutes later, he did so for the second time.
*****
Breathless with anticipation, Harry and Draco met in the Entrance Hall. They stood facing each other, silent, almost vibrating with suppressed excitement. Finally Draco cocked his head toward the Great Hall and gestured Harry in. They found seats next to each other easily enough – most of the professors had already eaten and returned to whatever pursuits occupied their free time, and only Professor Flitwick was still eating. Halfway through the meal Hermione came in. She smiled at Draco and sat down on Harry’s other side, starting a conversation with the Charms professor as she poured herself tea.
Harry and Draco chatted desultorily as they finished their tea, deliberately avoiding discussion of the Ball and ignoring the rustle of the pages of the Daily Prophet elsewhere at the table. They had risen to leave when a snowy owl soared into the Great Hall. Hedwig, who mainly traveled back and forth between Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place, headed toward them. Draco expected a smoking letter to be dropped on the table in front of him or Harry, but Hedwig glided closer and landed in front of his abandoned plate before extending her leg in his direction. Once Draco had removed the scroll, she hopped onto Harry’s shoulder and prodded him to take the other parchment she carried. He did so, but procrastinated, sitting back down and sipping more tea before opening it.
Draco reluctantly sat and unrolled his parchment.
Dear Draco,
Forgive my familiarity, but I prefer to avoid the wretched memories associated with your surname, and I’m sure you prefer your given name to the nicknames some of my children have given you.
I am sure that you expected a Howler or other angry missive from me or from Ginny, given recent events. Do not worry, and do not expect harsh words from me on Ginny’s account.
But I write for a much happier reason. You probably know that Harry invited my family to stay in the Black family house, his from his godfather Sirius, when our home was destroyed by Death Eaters. During our occupation, I have acted as hostess at Harry’s request. As such, I would like to invite you to join us for our Christmas celebration. Harry will be traveling here on Christmas Eve, if you do not know the location.
I hope that you join us – you are quite welcome, and your presence may ease the situation for Harry. As a warning, however, I must tell you that if you are toying with the boy I consider my seventh son, you will know my wrath and you will regret it.
Sincerely,
Molly Weasley
Draco sat stunned for a moment before turning to Harry, who wore an expression of overwhelmed relief.
“Molly…” Harry had to stop to clear his throat. “Molly asked after you. She says she invited you for the holiday? Are you coming?”
“Only if you want me. I don’t want to make things more difficult for you.”
“You’ll make them bearable.”
Will Harry wake to find something good in his stocking? What will Ginny say to Draco's presence at Christmas dinner? Wouldn't you like to know? Hmm, actually, I would like to know....
