The Mad Writings of a Professional Procrastinator

Fic: Here, There, and Everywhere

winterdaffodils — Mon, 14 Jul 2014 02:21:02 GMT

Originally posted by winterdaffodils at post

Title: Here, There, and Everywhere
Author: winterdaffodils
Rating: G
Word count: 100
Characters/pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Challenge: Written for dracoharry100 's prompt #354: There.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Authors Notes: Laziness and inattention finally worked out alright for me (I wrote this earlier this week and completely failed to keep an eye on the time). I didn't use the prompted word specifically but I'm hoping the heavy implications make that alright, if not I'll gladly pull it.

"I thought you said they were both male."

"Of course they're both male! They're purple!"

"That really really has nothing to do with gender."

"At least the wretched things are cute," Draco offered.

"Cute, fuzzy balls of fluff," Harry agreed, poking the one sleeping on his right foot with the toes of his left.

"And the purring is quite soothing," Draco continued, side-eyeing Harry carefully to determine whether he was still truly irritated over their surplus of pets.

"With one or two, maybe. Not sixty-three."

Draco shrugged.

"Maybe we can apply for a licence and sell them," Harry muttered.

Get this party started on a...Friday night!

winterdaffodils — Sat, 07 Jun 2014 04:22:13 GMT

Art by cremebunny, banner by capitu

this_bloody_cat's fun prompt and my fill! It's my first one of these, proud it's in honour of Draco's birthday.

Fic: The greatest of these (take)

winterdaffodils — Mon, 19 May 2014 02:19:08 GMT

Title: The greatest of these
Author: winterdaffodils
Team: Death Eaters!
Word count: 100x13
Characters/pairings: Draco&Harry, Ron, Blaise
Challenge:for the money - #346: take
Authors Notes: I could have cried a little when the new prompt went up, I've been busting my tush all day to write for the ones I missed because I had nothing for 'ceremony' and then smoochfest ate my brain. So what you see here is: 334-ceremony, 335-upside down, 336-follow, 337-lead, 338-anything goes, 339-good, 340-better, 341-best, 342-rise and shine, 343-fair's fair, 344-around, 345-give, and for the week, 346-take. Omg. lol Let me know if I should tag for all of those.
The title was take from 1 Corinthians 13:13, "...but the greatest of these is charity."

"He's got to be around here somewhere," Harry huffed, muttering to himself and ignoring the startled and worried expressions of the people walking past him as he checked and double checked each changing room, bathroom, and storage closet in the chapel.

It was a large building, even by wizarding standards, but he'd have thought it would be impossible for Draco to disappear so easily. Especially today of all days, when so many people were coming up to congratulate or check on Harry, it only seemed right for Draco to suffer through it all with him. He'd deserve it, after all.

Harry glanced at his watch, hissing a blue streak--before looking around the church guiltily--the ceremony was set to start in ten minutes and his arsehole husband-to-be was quite suspiciously missing in action.

Molly and Narcissa had spent so much time on this wedding that they were bound to be killed if they didn't get this show on the road in T-minus--he checked his watch again with a groan--nine minutes and seventeen seconds.

Draco hated when he did it but time was of the essence now. After another guilty look around, Harry cast a silent Point me.

The tug of magic was immediate, pulling Harry back the way he had come with a surprising jerk.

He trailed the feeling, following it to first one small room--and on finding it obviously still empty, to another and another.

Harry checked his watch with a grimace, debating whether he should let Narcissa have him when he finally found Draco or if killing him himself would be more satisfying.

He let the fantasy play in his head as he walked into more rooms he had already checked, cursing Draco for guessing he would resort to this and taking preventative measures.

He had just closed the door on his fourth toilet when his magic gave a hopeful leap. Harry frowned, listening harder to the careful silence in this hallway.

The niggling feeling that something wasn't right grew stronger and hoping he wasn't about to walk into something he didn't want to see, Harry let instincts that had only sharpened since the war lead him into what now appeared to be an office, Harry's finite incantatum loud in the large space.

A muffled thump drew him to the small lounge partially hidden by the desk that took up most of the room.

"Hey," he called after watching Draco lift his head and flop back again with a grimace. "I thought we put a moratorium on anything goes for our stag nights," he murmured, trying for light and easy but figuring he sounded a bit more accusatory.

"I'm not hungover, Harry," Draco snapped, his expression tight and closed off the way it only was when he didn't mean to be such a bastard.

"Well, that's alright then," Harry grinned for him. "I wouldn't want to face your mother otherwise."

Draco winced, just like Harry thought he would.

"So what's wrong? The truth, yeah?"

Draco's frown deepened as he looked away. “Nothing,” he promised, everything about him screaming the opposite.

“Yes, because you look about as joyful as one expects of a nearly married man,” Harry sneered, injecting as much venom into his tone as he thought Draco could bear.

“Don't be angry at me, Harry,” Draco whispered, a little more brokenly than Harry expected.

He softened immediately, his fingers gentle in Draco's hair.

“It's just Blaise...”

“Fuck,” Harry growled. “I knew letting him be your best man was a horror waiting to happen.”

“It's not--”

“I could kill him for this,” Harry muttered, pacing a short path. “He knows this is happening, knows we love each other. Why does he keep trying to talk you out of it?”

“Probably because you won't listen,” Draco answered, looking at him upside down. “He mostly warns me away for your sake.”

“That's horseshit,” Harry spat, angrily running his fingers through his hair and ruining the work Hermione and Ginny had put into making it neat.

“It's not completely,” Draco cut in, catching Harry's hand on his next pass. “You know it.”

“He's supposed to be your friend,” Harry whispered, his hand clenching against Draco's rather obsessively.

“Better he says it than someone else, don't you think,” Draco asked, attempting to flattening Harry's hair again. “He was just saying what a lot of people are still thinking. It's my fault I took it so badly.”

Harry shook his head, angry but recognizing how much Draco needed him to let this go. “Are you ready now, then,” he asked a little hesitantly.

Draco drew in a deep breath, smiling at him. “Sorry for hiding, but I just...you know?”

Harry nodded, because he did know. He'd had similar conversations with Hermione, though always in Draco's favour. They both knew how Draco's family history would be under scrutiny, how each movement would be judged against his past.

It'd been the first time he'd really considered their relationship might not be for the best. “But... we're good, right,” he couldn't help asking.

Draco's hand tightened around his, his smile almost too bright as he led Harry out of his hiding place. “Let's go give them hell,” he answered, his face softening into a true smile. “Blaise deserves it.”

“Fair's fair,” Harry agreed readily enough, following Draco into the hallway where Blaise and Ron tried to loiter innocently.

“You're an arsehole,” Draco announced without ceremony.

“Hey,” Ron squawked before realising that Draco was speaking and looking pointedly at Blaise.

“I just wanted you to be sure,” Blaise defended himself quickly, glancing up the hallway. “Pansy wanted to ship you to Fiji, I knew the mums would kill us.”

“Good call,” Harry agreed, pulling Draco past their best friends. “You're both still arseholes. You couldn't have saved me searching the whole fucking church?”

“I asked them not to,” Draco confessed when they had left Ron and Blaise behind.

“Yeah, well, you're an arsehole, too. I've known that for years.” Harry smirked while Draco tried and failed to sneer. There would be no arguing that point. “Now, time to rise and shine,” he muttered. “We have to smile for six hundred of our nearest and dearest strangers and escape before they ask us to cut the cake.”

“Have you ever met my mother, Potter,” Draco asked with no small amount of amusement. “Because I've certainly met Molly Weasley.”

Harry winced. “This is going to take days, isn't it,” he asked, defeated by the combined will of the two most important women in their lives.

“I tried to kerb their most outrageous impulses,” Draco offered calmly. “My mother wanted to invite all of wizarding Europe.”

“Where would we have even held the wedding then? On broomsticks,” Harry muttered, tensing a little as they neared the 'bridal' chambers. He could hear Ron's snort every time he mentioned the room they had chosen for dressing. “You still have to convince your mother to give you away.”

“And you have to convince her to let you take me,” Draco pointed out tartly, his glare too real.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, pulling him away from the door that lead to their waiting families, semi-chosen audience, and the rest of their lives. “I love you. And scary though she tries to be, she loves you fiercely. I don't mind listening to threats over your safety.”

Draco smiled and tugged him into a kiss.

“I don't supposed she's read Corinthians,” Harry asked softly, kissing him harder.

“She's familiar with the concept of charity, Potter,” Draco promised.

Fic: Same Time, Next Year - Smoochfest 2014

winterdaffodils — Sat, 10 May 2014 22:46:04 GMT

Author LJ Name: winterdaffodils
Title: Same Time, Next Year
Prompt Number: M34
Original Work Name: Same Time, Next Year
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny, Draco/Astoria
Summary: It shouldn't have even started, they had nothing to bring them together, but all the best things are harder to stop than to begin.
Rating: PG-13ish
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Long-term infidelity
Epilogue compliant? Excepting some interview canon, this is completely epilogue compliant.
Word Count: ~5300
Author's Notes: My teapot loves me this I know, for she listens to me whine, puts up with my slacking, and is always willing to smack me for mistakes. Any remaining are mine, I can't not fiddle. Mods! I love you guys so much, thank you for putting up with me too, I know I push the line. Dear prompter of M34, thank you so much for the opportunity to experience this story, both through the film and my interpretation of it. I hope I don't disappoint. <3

~ 2006 ~

It started innocently enough, at least Draco thought it must have. A chance meeting in the last place either of them might have expected. But then, they hadn't given each other much thought in almost a decade, had largely ignored any mentions in the Prophet or, in Harry's case, The Quibbler. Their lives ran parallel, intersecting through friends and family, but never crossing in their own interactions. Draco had always been perfectly content with that fact.

This was all Pansy's fault. Somehow, something he had done or maybe even forgotten to do had led to this utter travesty of a moment.

Years ago Draco would have sworn he'd know that mess of hair anywhere. That every wizard everywhere could spot and identify the famous fringe at one hundred paces. But now, taking a considering sip of a very full bodied lager, Draco had to stop and look again, searching out that famous scar and wishing the wanker had bothered with a glamour so that Draco might have never noticed him.

It didn't matter now though. Even in such a large room, they might as well have been alone for how aware Draco was of Potter walking toward a booth along the outer wall of the bar.

There shouldn't have been any bad blood between them anymore, nothing really to indicate they had ever even breathed the same air, and yet all Draco wanted to do was duck back to his hired room and disappear.

He lowered his head over the remainder of his drink, hoping to be overlooked but watching through his hair. When Potter came too close to his table between the door and wide bar, Draco ducked his head again. He could almost feel the heat of the other man as he moved past Draco's well-chosen seat.

Draco sipped delicately at his drink, determined to be elegant if he was exposed.

"Mind if I join you?" Strong fingers wrapped around the back of the chair beside him, pulling it out a bit.

Draco slid the empty glass across his table and took a deep breath, feeling the brunet shift behind him.

"I'm not sure that's allowed, Potter," he replied slowly, that all too easy drawl barely colouring his tone.

Draco looked up at the other man, shaking the pale strands of his hair away from his face. It did no good to hide behind them when he'd already been sighted.

"Even among strangers, I think it might offend someone to see us acting cordial toward one another."

Potter blinked at him, clearly surprised to find a familiar face.

Draco offered him a polite smile. "You can withdraw your offer now."

Gryffindor courage seemed to swell inside Potter's chest, a strange smile stretching across his face.

"No, Malfoy, I definitely think a drink is in order."

*

“Go away, Potter,” Draco muttered when the other man came back to help himself to the only other seat at his table and sat a pint down in front of him.

“Nah,” Harry answered nonchalantly, a queer little self-satisfied smirk on his face as he toasted Draco with his drink and took a healthy swallow. “I didn't poison it,” he promised when Draco continued to ignore his own. “Here,” he sighed, standing again and leaning over the table to swap their glasses. “Perfectly safe.”

Draco met his eyes squarely, reaching to take Potter's abandoned drink and gulping down the rest before pushing the empty glass back to Potter's side of the table.

“See, we can be perfectly companionable,” Potter praised, sipping at the full pint. “So, what are you doing here, Malfoy?”

“Having a pint,” Draco answered easily, pointing at the empty glass in a smug salute.

“Prat,” Harry muttered, drinking from his own with a grimace Draco thought must be at the company rather than the taste of the ale. “Good to know some things never change.”

“Everything changes,” Draco gainsaid, turning a careless eye on Potter. “What brings the honoured Auror so far from home?”

“I would ask the same,” Harry answered, settling more comfortably into his seat and taking a longer drink of his ale.

*

“It was Ginny,” Harry muttered some while later, pushing aside a few empty glasses and looking over at Draco who only quirked a curious eyebrow. “They offered me a promotion. Head Auror. And I just don't know if I want it.”

“You were practically bred for it,” Draco acknowledged, draining the last inch from his fo-sixth pint and wondering vaguely if he should have been drinking at all with Harry Potter sitting two and a half feet away from him.

*

“You are aware we don't have anything to catch up on,” Draco asked curiously, shoving his own hair back behind his ear because it might be too odd to reach across the table and do it to Potter's mop. “We share no fond memories. Even the bad memories are completely overshadowed by the War. And I did my NEWTS by Owl. We didn't 'bond' in McGonagall's precious eighth year. Why are you at my table?”

“Seemed fun,” Harry answered with a shrug. “Another?”

“Just one,” Draco agreed, though that's what he thought he'd said thr-five pints ago.

*

Draco woke to a Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch game kicking off in his skull, his pained groan lost in the feel of bludgers bouncing against his skull. He groaned again, rolling away from the harsh glint of the sun through the lightly patterned curtains. An answering groan distracted him easily from the warm press of bare flesh against him. Despite the bright light and the lingering ache in places he wasn't thinking about just then, Draco jerked away, sitting up to stare down at the dozing form of one Harry Potter.

How much had they had to drink last night?

*

"Look, Potter--"

"Harry," Harry answered, slipping on his shirt and watching as Draco adjusted his tie.

"What," Draco asked, stopping to stare in a fair bit of confusion.

"Harry. My name."

"I've called you Potter for the last fifteen years."

"Yeah, I kinda figured it was time that changed. You didn't mind it last night."

Draco frowned, suddenly overwhelmed by the memory of calling out Harry as Potter pushed inside of him for the first time.

*

“We should probably talk about this,” Draco murmured, running a hand through his hair and dropping to sit somewhat uncomfortably at the foot of the bed.

Harry left off tugging his pants into a more comfortable position, wondering if this was the moment Draco became the Malfoy of their past: threatening and sneering to get his way. “Alright,” he agreed cautiously, settling against the headboard and staring at the back of messy blond hair.

“Well, I...” Draco began hesitantly, fumbling with the socks he hadn't managed to put on yet. “It was fantastic, wasn't it,” he asked, glancing over his shoulder to meet Harry's eyes.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed softly, warmth filling him all the way to his toes. “But we shouldn't do it again,” he added quickly, shifting guiltily.

“Today or ever,” Draco asked before he could stop himself.

“Both. Neither? I don't know,” Harry muttered, a silly grin spreading across his face as he leaned forward to drag Draco back down on top of him.

*

“So, what's Astoria like,” Harry asked, settling against the back of the small lounge with a curious grin.

Draco stopped brushing at his hair and sat, joining Harry with obvious hesitance. “Are you sure you want to do this,” he asked carefully, looking at Harry like he was waiting for him to pull the other one.

Harry shrugged, picking at the denim fraying over his left knee. “Well, we all went to school together, but it's like we're complete strangers.” He frowned at himself but shrugged again. “It seems like the war should have brought us all closer, healed the rifts, rather than continue driving us apart.”

Draco sat a little slack-jawed, awed despite himself.

“Just whatever comes to mind,” Harry continued, his grin widening a bit. “One good one and one really rotten one.”

Draco sighed, fidgeting a bit with his tie and then consciously dropping both hands to his sides. “Astoria is... the worst thing about Astoria is that she's still a proper Pure-blood,” he muttered, finishing all in a rush before glancing up for Harry's reaction.

Harry sat for a long moment, trying to decide between snorting at the implied hypocrisy of that statement and feeling a tiny piece impressed that that was all Draco could find wrong with her. “I'm afraid you'll have to clarify,” he settled on saying with a mostly straight face.

Draco's hands twitched, needing something to do while he sorted out what he really wanted to say. He stared down at the plain though expensive platinum band on his left ring finger before holding up his right hand to display his signet ring. “We were arranged, long before all of... that, we both knew it and didn't think much on it. It was what all proper Pure-bloods do.” He shrugged, looking away quickly to avoid Harry's expression. “I really thought, after everything, things would change. But as soon as our name was cleared and our vaults released, Father pushed for the marriage. We've been married for almost six years now.”

Harry frowned, chewing on his lip and turning a bit more to face Draco. “That doesn't sound so bad,” he pointed out curiously, watching as Draco's face pinked.

“It's not,” Draco defended immediately, on his feet and pacing in the space of a breath. “I just, it was supposed to be different. But her family wasn't really a part of the war and sometimes she still clings to the ideals of our grandparents' generation even though they've quite appropriately been stomped into dust. And my father encourages her! But it's not what I—”

Harry's hands clamped over Draco's mouth and rested against the back of his neck, silencing his tirade and calming him quickly. “I understand,” he whispered as grey eyes blinked at him and Draco shifted in his arms. “It's okay, I understand now.” He caressed Draco's jaw, pulling him into a slow and teasing kiss. “Now, tell me the good story,” he murmured as they parted.

“It won't make sense, not really,” Draco answered softly, his hands slipping down to rest on Harry's hips, keeping him close. “But she made me believe in myself again. Maybe for the first time, I don't really know...”

“How did she do that,” Harry asked gently, his own fingers tangling in Draco's hair.

“She married me,” Draco answered with a sudden burst of humour. “I told you it made no sense,” he muttered when Harry only frowned again.

“Explain it how you understand it.”

“After the wa—alright, after Voldemort, damn you,” Draco began, his body tense against Harry's. “Even with our money and land and status returned, it would have been the work of a moment for us to disappear from society completely—locked away in the Manor, disreputable, loathed—I would have welcomed it as our due. She didn't let that stop her or tarnish her name; it was the salvation of my own.”

“Do you love her,” Harry asked carefully, wary of Draco's reaction.

“I honestly don't know,” Draco answered after a long moment. “I want to,” he interjected in the next second. “We're good to each other. We both adore Scorpius. We even—”

“You don't have to justify it to me,” Harry cut him off, taking his hand and pulling him back down onto the lounge beside him.

“What about Ginny,” Draco asked when they had been sitting quietly for a bit.

“Gin's great,” Harry answered immediately, only to snort a second later. “She is great,” he amended quickly. “She gets me.”

“And,” Draco prompted when that seemed to be all Harry would say.

“The best thing about Ginny,” Harry continued purposefully loud, tucking his arm around Draco's shoulders with a grin. “It really is that she understands where I'm coming from. It wasn't quite the same, but she went through a similar experience. The connection, him in her head,” Harry grimaced, his voice softening to a near whisper.

“But,” Draco thought out loud, stopping himself with a frown, uncertain his input would be appreciated.

“But,” Harry encouraged, his fingers twisting in the short blond hairs at the base of Draco's neck.

“It's just that—and I don't mean to downplay or denigrate the trauma of her experience,” Draco qualified quickly, waiting for Harry's nod before taking a quick breath and plunging on. “But her experiences were with a seventeen year old figment who pretended to be a best friend...”

“But-”

“But,” Draco cut him off gently. “She had no memory then of any of the things he made her do. Does she now? Really?”

“No,” Harry answered after a moment of thought. “She knows what we've told her about it but that's all.”

Draco nodded like it had confirmed every thought he had ever had on the subject. “So she has no idea what it was like to be bound to him at the height of his power.”

“I forget,” Harry murmured after a moment of realisation. “After everything, I forget sometimes that he lived in your house and that he could get to you anywhere too.”

Draco followed Harry's gaze to his cotton covered left forearm with a resigned sigh. “He did,” he whispered. “And he could.. What's the worst thing about Ginny then,” he asked quickly. This was supposed to be fun for them, not emotionally gutting.

“I'm a bit worried to tell it now,” Harry muttered, echoing Draco's thoughts. “Especially since it's quite terrible.”

“Now you have to tell me,” Draco protested, drawing his feet up underneath him and turning to face Harry.

Harry's face was set in an uncomfortable grimace, his fingers clenching at his sides until he reached out to cup one of Draco's ankles. “It was just really fucking awful.”

Draco nodded slowly, feeling like something heavy had settled on his chest.

“She didn't say it to me,” Harry prefaced hastily, his eyes on the soft floral pattern of the rug beneath his feet. “And I know she didn't mean anything horrible by it, but I heard her telling one of her former teammates that she wished we'd waited. That we hadn't started having children so soon. We got married because she was pregnant. We both agreed that she would go back to sport after, but now she's pregnant again. And they want me for Head Auror, which will take up loads of my time. What if she's miserable?”

“She's not miserable, Harry,” Draco assured him, flexing his foot against Harry's hold. “She's loved you for ages. You'll find your way through this.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed faintly, hoping without much actual hope that Draco was right.

*

Draco stopped with his hand on the open door. “Would you,” he hesitated, his heart pounding in his ears. “You said before that you come here every year,” he prompted, turning just enough to look back over his shoulder at Harry.

“Every year,” Harry confirmed, his hands clenched into shaky fists at his sides. “Same weekend, same room.” He couldn't bring himself to ask, though he wanted to.

But Draco nodded and gave him a small smile. “I'll see you around, Harry.”

~ 2011 ~

“Any trouble getting away this year,” Harry asked breathlessly, his attention torn between doing to Draco's mouth what he wanted to do to his body and stripping him naked enough to do it.

“Easily enough,” Draco answered, his own hands swiftly divesting Harry of his jeans. “Scorpius is used to my weekend away now.”

Harry nodded distractedly.

*

“He's still afraid of the dark,” Draco whispered to the ceiling, Harry's arms wrapped tight around his waist.

“That's normal, isn't it,” Harry asked sleepily, rubbing his nose against Draco's shoulder and blinking myopically at the serious expression on his face.

“I guess.” Draco gave a half-hearted shrug, his eyes and mind on something far away.

“He's still young,” Harry offered, leaning up on one elbow and letting Draco settle onto his back beside him. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth. “Have you told him there's nothing to fear? That the guard peacocks will protect him from anything.”

“I don't tell him anything,” Draco mumbled, looking up at Harry cautiously.

“Why,” Harry inquired softly, his fingers stroking pale strands of hair away from Draco's face.

“Who better than I would know the ghosts that linger there?”

~ 2016 ~

“So,” Harry started when they had both had a moment to catch their breath. He tightened his grip on Draco for fear he would pull away. “Hogwarts next year.”

They had been avoiding it for the last year or so, the looming disruption of their routine.

Draco tensed, his hands fisting in Harry's hair before relaxing into light petting again. “So it is,” he drawled, shifting into a more comfortable position, his thighs flexing around Harry's hips.

“Well, should we–”

“Nothing has to change,” Draco told him when he broke the kiss, his forehead resting easily against Harry's, a grin growing on his face as Harry's cock twitched and hardened against him. “In fact,” he whispered, cheeky as you please, “I dare say you enjoy it.”

~ 2021 ~

“Scorpius says you're paying him to keep an eye on Lily,” Draco murmured accusingly, running his fingers through Harry's mess of hair. “You do know that will backfire miserably?”

“Only on Hogsmeade weekends,” Harry protested quickly, not quite as innocent as he thought. “And during breaks. And meals. And class. And I don't remember having that much free time when we were students. And he and Al and Jamie are all keeping an eye on her. And I generally pay in Wheezes or chocolate frogs, so it's all above board,” he offered, trying to smile reassuringly when he lifted his head to gauge Draco's reaction.

“It's going to end horribly. Or in marriage,” Draco pronounced, feeling quite sure of himself as Harry's expression became considering.

“Would that... I mean, would it be such a bad thing?”

“If our children married? Tying our two families together? Insuring we spend at least some holidays and all major life events in close proximity, having to ignore each other pointedly or maintain a carefully polite distance.” Draco pressed his lips together in a tight line, feeling sorry for dumping so much reality on Harry at once. But, “it's hard enough seeing you at King's Cross at the beginning and end of the year, even knowing we'll have this weekend...”

Harry's fingers found and gripped his tightly. “Maybe we could, maybe there's something?”

Draco kissed him, hard, intent on derailing and destroying that train of thought as quickly as he could, trying to make himself forget how much he wanted it too. Before it consumed him.

~ 2026 ~

"Don't say anything," Draco warned as he shut the door behind him. "We haven't much time."

The rented room darkened immediately, a single candle burning beside the bed, heavy brocade curtains letting in meagre light.

He couldn't really see Harry, couldn't even hear him as he stepped closer. He could only feel that beloved presence for a moment before Harry took him into his arms and held on tightly.

"You're late," Harry breathed against his skin, his hands tracing over Draco's shoulders gently. He was a real, solid presence, comforting Draco more than he'd realised he'd yet needed.

"I'm sorry," Draco agreed softly, letting his own fingers slip up into Harry's wild hair. The strands curled around his fingers in that familiar way and Draco tightened his grip carefully. "Scorpius," he whispered, the only explanation he had.

"It's fine," Harry promised, his eyes almost glowing in the soft light. He was naked, his warm skin pressing against Draco, burning into his flesh through his clothing.

"I want," Draco faltered, swallowing a guilty grimace and sliding his fingers through Harry's hair again. He offered a tight smile, feeling like his face might crack, before pulling Harry into a slow kiss.

Harry let him, kissing back like they were lovers separated by more than just their lives, his hands were gentle as he gripped and held Draco. "It's okay," he murmured between kisses, his lips trembling against Draco's just a little. "It's okay."

"I know," Draco answered, his breaths ragged and easily blamed on the kissing. He guided Harry's fingers to the buttons of his shirt, pushing him to undo them from the top while he worked upwards from the last.

Draco's hands shook just a little as he dropped his shirt to the floor at his side, his muscles tensing and skin prickling as he waited for Harry's judgment.

"You're beautiful," Harry whispered, his eyes never leaving Draco's cautiously upturned gaze. He stroked Draco's skin, his fingers following a long familiar path across scarred skin. "More lovely than I ever remember."

Draco ducked his head again, watching Harry's careful fingers before reaching out to twine their fingers together. Harry gripped his hand in return, squeezing before letting go and reaching for the buttons of Draco's fly.

Draco shivered, hard and aching already, worried about coming before Harry had even touched him properly. "The bed," he demanded gently, stopping Harry's hands before he could strip him completely. "On the bed this time."

Harry grinned, smugness in every glint in his eyes. "I like you on the floor and against the wall."

"I'm not as young as I once was," Draco countered, sitting on the small double bed and pushing his trousers and pants down his legs.

Harry grinned, sliding between Draco's thighs and pushing him down against the bed. "Is that why you like the lights so low now? You don't want me to see your wrinkles?"

"Fuck off, I don't have wrinkles," Draco complained, pulling Harry down on top of him and rolling his hips against Harry's.

"Yes, you do," Harry whispered, pressing his lips against one that Draco particularly hated at the corner of his mouth. "I think they're sexy."

"You'd better," Draco growled, pulling him into another kiss.

Harry went willingly, his hands cradling Draco's jaw, his fingers straying into wispy blond hair as he rocked his hips against Draco's. "I thought you said we haven't much time," he asked after a long moment of just enjoying touching his lover. "It's agony to see you every year and not be allowed to touch you."

Draco swallowed loudly, his own hands gripping Harry's left shoulder and right hip. He blinked quickly, looking back at Harry softly. "It is," he breathed, not imagining what it would be like if they had pushed each other for more.

Harry's smile was gentle and a little broken, his eyes hazy and his hands heavy with the weight of words he couldn't speak. "It is," he said again, pressing his lips against the corner of Draco's mouth once more.

*

“What'd Scorpius want to talk about,” Harry asked a short while later, one hand stroking slowly over Draco's side while the other still gripped the sheets.

Draco drew in a deep breath and let it out again slowly, his hands tightening around Harry's back.

“Is everything alright,” Harry whispered, raising his head as far as Draco's arms would allow to look at him.

“It's fine,” Draco promised with a smile so fake it was nearly painful before letting go enough to smooth Harry's wild hair.

“Then tell me,” Harry cajoled, peppering little kisses over Draco's jaw and throat, his hands wandering a little more intently over Draco's skin.

Draco ran his hands down Harry's back, clasping them together just above the swell of his arse, holding Harry firmly in place. “He wants to marry Lily,” he murmured.

Harry froze, not breathing and fairly certain his heart had stopped beating as well. He knew what it would mean for them, how much harder it would be. He took a deep breath and swallowed loudly, forcing a not-quite smile of his own. “I'll talk to Gin,” he promised.

~ 2031 ~

“I was starting to think you wouldn't come,” Draco called, turning from hanging his overcoat in the small closet. “Is everything okay,” he asked as soon as he saw Harry's face, abandoning everything when Harry only stared at him.

“I almost didn't,” Harry admitted softly, his eyes tracking over every bit of Draco that he could see. “But I thought it might be easier here. Better... Better than just turning up at your house.”

Draco blanched at the very thought, feeling ten times guiltier about it when Harry only watched him silently. “What's going on, Harry,” he asked gently, crossing the space between them with quick steps.

Harry tugged him down onto their small lounge, his hold on Draco's hand carefully relaxed because he was feeling anything but. “There's a lot to tell you and if I don't hurry I may never manage it.” He shook his head and took a bracing breath. “First of all, Ginny knows about us. Has done for years now. I guess we weren't careful enough at Scor and Lil's family dinners.”

Draco felt like he had been hit by a bludger, dizzy and shaky and completely disoriented. “Wh-when did you find out?”

“A few months ago.”

“And she's never said a word,” Draco asked faintly, wondering why she hadn't hexed him or poisoned him immediately. “Why now?”

Harry braced himself for the varied possibilities of Draco's reaction. “She's leaving me. She wants a divorce,” he said quietly.

“What,” Draco nearly shouted, his face gone red and blotchy. “This was never supposed to ruin your life,” he shook his head in dismay.

"Ruined,” Harry snorted, dragging Draco back against him. “Who says this will ruin my life? Or hers? We deserve to be happy, and we both love each other enough to want that for the other. I think that might be the nicest story I've ever told about her.”

Draco could only watch silently as Harry became even more animated.

“I've been thinking about us a lot lately. About everything. Did you know we've made love a hundred and sixteen times, we're still on our honeymoon. And now that the children are grown, this is all that's holding us back.

Draco's growing smile faded, his heart clenching. “Being married isn't all that's stopped us, Harry,” he corrected gently.

“We could get married, Draco,” Harry whispered hopefully. “Be together always.”

“That's not what you want, Harry, it's never been. Not really,” Draco declared angrily. “You've never wanted permanent, it terrified you!”

“I want you now,” Harry shouted, neighbours or staff be damned because he needed this. Needed Draco with him every day.

“You have me right now, Harry,” Draco pleaded, coming forward to take Harry's hand in his own trembling grip. “And next year and the next. Same time, same place, right?”

Harry's sigh was weary and deeply felt, his eyes sad and apologetic. “I don't want to be alone, Draco. I deserve to be happy. After everything, we both do.” He shook his head. “I can't imagine anyone else would let us have this, would accept what we've had, what we've meant to each other. I don't want to spend the rest of my life hiding! Pretending you mean nothing! Please,” he gasped, his heart in his throat, he could taste the acid of it breaking. “Please, Draco, please say yes.”

“I can't,” Draco breathed, his entire being like a tragedy.

“Slytherins,” Harry huffed nastily. “Won't even act to save themselves unless there's no other option. I wish you could feel what I feel for you. Maybe it would thaw that icy heart.”

Draco flinched, staring at Harry like he'd never seen him before. “Harry, I...” But there was nothing he could say, so he only shook his head.

“I've gotta go,” Harry muttered, dragging on his coat with sharp, jerking movements. “I've got a portkey back to London. Molly's waiting to cook me a sympathy dinner and I have to tell Ron and...” he stopped, his hand on the doorknob and looking over his shoulder like Draco had that first morning. When they'd promised without promising that this would be for always. “I can't believe this is happening to us.”

Draco watched, trembling, as Harry turned around and walked resolutely out of his life.

The room was silent around him as he stumbled back to the lounge, his shaky legs hardly supporting him long enough to sit. He could almost hear the echoes of the years they had spent together in this small room.

Draco drew in a shuddering breath, remembering the awe and comfort of waking up together for the first time and going to bed again.

He clasped his hands between his knees, suddenly cold, remembering hiding in Harry's arms as he tried to forget the horror darkness sometimes hides.

He twisted around, eyeing the bed where it had started, where it could have changed or ended but instead had only grown.

The bed where they had both known exactly what they had wanted, where Draco had foretold their bleakest future and known it wouldn't be enough. Draco blinked away the haze in his eyes. Had he just let Harry go thinking it had been enough?

Their future had almost broken them, so close to what they wanted and knowing it couldn't be theirs. Couldn't they just keep some part of it? He shuddered, alone and abandoned on his honeymoon because Harry thought he didn't want him enough. Didn't love him enough.

Draco covered his face with a sob, jerking up guiltily when the door crashed open again and Harry barreled in, throwing his coat to the side.

“Okay, goddamnit, I couldn't leave you,” he hissed, striding over to Draco's huddled form in a strop. “I just wanted you to marry me and I thought that if you thought I was willing to find someone else—for once in my life I wanted a happy ending. I don't want to talk about it anymore!”

Draco shook his head, only just stopping from wrapping himself around Harry and clinging on forever. “I didn't want you to leave thinking—that I wouldn't, but one moment with you, even just one weekend a year, is enough for me, Harry, because I—”

Harry kissed him hard, smashing their lips together uncomfortably with the fierceness building inside of him. “I'm back,” he swore viciously, “and I'm going to keep coming back every year until our bones are too brittle to risk contact!”

Draco laughed, gasping and choking and entirely too happy as Harry crushed him against his chest like he meant to never let go. “I do love you, you know,” he hissed, meeting Harry with everything he had.

“I know,” Harry breathed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Fic: Unbound Veela - 2014 Valentine Veela Fest

winterdaffodils — Sun, 13 Apr 2014 22:03:24 GMT

Title: Unbound Veela
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Prompt #: Self-prompt
Rating: NC-17, for safety sake
Word Count: ~12,000
Summary: There is more than one consequence to being an unmated Veela.
Warning(s): Made up mythology/biology for Veela just because; UST; Fluff and angst in fairly equal measures, but too fluffy by half; Julie still loves Q.A.F.
Beta: Darling, dear hanyou_sensei
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Author's Notes: My dearest teapot never tells me no, so here we are. I sing her praises over how quickly she got this back to me. Veela fics are seriously some of my favorites in the fandom, definitely some of my favorite to write. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Love to the mods for keeping this fest going, I was actually panicking a bit thinking there wouldn't be a round this year and then I was horribly lazy with keeping track. God love you.

Part One

Part Two

Fic: Thoughtful and Well-Chosen

winterdaffodils — Fri, 14 Feb 2014 23:37:34 GMT

Title: Thoughtful and Well-Chosen
Author: winterdaffodils
Rating: Disney G
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Harry/Draco
Word count: ~325
Warnings: the rating says it all: unrepentant fluff*
Disclaimer: Sometimes I'm too nice and the boys either love me or hate me for it, but they still refuse to be mine. Little shits, it's Valentine's Day.
Summary: Sometimes Harry has a hard time expressing just how he feels.
A/N: I have been planning this for weeks! The only thing I care about this being a holiday is that I've been dying to write and post this little story.
*I'm sorry, it's just so damned fluffy.

Happy Valentine's Day, Darlings! <3!

“Made it yourself, did you,” Draco asked. Rather calmly, he thought.

“No!” Harry answered immediately, a little hysterical as he blushed all the way to his ears.

“Surely you didn't buy it,” Draco muttered, unable to keep a growing sneer off of his face or out of his voice. He glanced up to see Harry had paled a bit. “It's lovely, of course,” he lied, looking down at the lacy monstrosity in his hands again. The sentiments were a little... well, spot on, actually, Draco thought with a guilty swallow, risking a quick glance at Harry only to find him looking guilty as well.

“Actually...” Harry said, trailing off a bit and rubbing the back of his neck with a grimace. “Ginny made it for me a few years ago.”

Draco's jaw dropped and for a moment he was just too shocked to be brassed off about the sheer nerve it took to re-gift a Valentine's Day gift.

“Don't get mad,” Harry pleaded, reaching out to touch Draco's shoulder or maybe take the schmoopy, lovey dovey, okay, downright gaudy card back and hide it. “I only kept it because I really liked what it said, even though I didn't feel that way about Ginny and knew I never really would, but I wanted to. Feel that way. About someone, I mean. And I do now,” Harry finally managed, staring at his feet and hoping Draco didn't shove the admittedly less thought out than he had thought card up his arse in appropriate dismay.

Draco swallowed, looking down at the card in his hands and rereading the flowery sentiments. Mushy though it was, this was exactly how he felt about Harry. And how Harry felt about him, he thought with a guilty flush of happiness.

“Oh,” he breathed, tucking the card close to his chest and stepping closer to Harry, offering him a small smile when he looked up again. “Well, that's alright then.”

Fic: Harry learns eventually (games)

winterdaffodils — Tue, 11 Feb 2014 01:43:24 GMT

Originally posted by winterdaffodils at post

Title: Harry learns eventually
Author: winterdaffodils
Team: Death Eaters!
Word count: 100+3!
Rating: So very G, meh, PG for the nude
Characters/pairings: Draco&Harry
Challenge: #332: games
Warnings: enforced nudity
Authors Notes: I hadn't intended to end Secrets, but this one wouldn't have worked all that well anyway. Harry's dumb and forgetful and naive.
Disclaimer: The boys will probably never be mine, barring extreme kindness on the part of the mistress.

"You're cheating, I know it," Harry whinged, looking over the board forlornly.

"It's actually a bit difficult to cheat at chess. Impossible with Wizard's Chess," Draco answered absently, reaching out to move his bishop despite the ease of directing them instead. "I'll have your shirt," he said, looking up at Harry as his bishop smashed Harry's knight.

Harry stripped off his shirt with a grimace, crossing his arms over his chest and glad for the thought that had had him put on layers.

"There should be a forfeit," he complained. "After so many moves, you should have to strip something."

"Want a shoe?"

Fic: Secrets 4 (inside out)

winterdaffodils — Sun, 09 Feb 2014 02:50:20 GMT

Originally posted by winterdaffodils at Secrets 4 (inside out)

Title: Inside Out (I failed at a title for this one, guys)
Author: winterdaffodils
Team: Death Eaters!
Word count: 100x3, couldn't help myself
Characters/pairings: Draco/Harry, not a smutty piece
Challenge: Challenge #331: Inside Out for dracoharry100
Authors Notes: I wanted so badly to fic this all to hell and finish the story, but then I felt like a jerk taking the easy way out. I think Draco's been waiting for this but will still be a bit unsatisfied.

"Draco," Harry asked, standing from the seat he had maintained in front of the Floo all evening.

Draco stopped half in, eyes wide in surprise as he met Harry's gaze. "Oh, bollocks, she's told you," he moaned, running his hand through his hair, aggrieved.

"No! Well, yeah, but I knew," Harry muttered, shrugging a little self-consciously and eyeing his toes.

"No, you didn't," Draco bit out. “That bitch.”

"I'm not stupid. All the time," he amended when Draco snorted indelicately and stepped forward cautiously. "She didn't have to tell me, not really, but I don't understand why you thought you couldn't."

"This!" Draco shouted before he could stop himself, glaring at Harry and gesturing to the distance between them, the careful way Harry moved and looked at him. "This right here. I didn't want you to treat me like an invalid or like I was going to die! I'm fine," he hissed, tears welling up in his eyes as much as he fought them back, his breathing sharp and fast. "I'm fucking fine."

"Yeah," Harry agreed softly, coming forward as he normally would after a time apart, gripping Draco fiercely and dragging him into a kiss. "You're fine," he whispered. "We're fine."

.oOo.

“I'm sorry,” Draco murmured, shifting in Harry's arms but still not looking at him. “I should have told you,” he sighed, tugging the duvet a little tighter around him.

“I understand why you might not have wanted to,” Harry answered honestly, feeling like every word had to be carefully considered and completely out of his depth. “I didn't mean to push.”

“Yes, you did,” Draco said, turning to press his face into his pillow.

“Good night,” Harry sighed eventually, tightening his arms around Draco as he let out a soft snore.

Fic: Misunderstandings

winterdaffodils — Thu, 06 Feb 2014 04:34:29 GMT

Title: Misunderstandings
Author: winterdaffodils
Rating: we'll go pg-13, for the content
Pairing(s)/Character(s): bromancey, pre-romancey H/D
Word count: ~270
Warnings: Watersports, but not like you might be afraid of.
Disclaimer: Belonging to me means good times are had by all. Eventually. Considering the canon we're playing with, they clearly don't belong to me.
Summary: Watersports fic for the squicked. It can be funny.
A/N: My teapot asked me to squick her with a watersports fic and for -hopefully- the first time, I failed her. I just couldn't do it. So here's as close as I can get when it doesn't involve Fenrir Greyback. To be fair, I got the basic idea from an old -seriously old, like 10 years ago old, issue of Glamor.

"He didn't," Harry demanded, snorting into his beer as Draco nodded so hard and fast that he had to put a hand to his head.

"He did," Draco insisted, leaning further across the small table. "Oh Merlin, I still wish he hadn't."

"Why," Harry asked, shaking his own head and trying to stop laughing.

"I don't know," Draco shouted, drawing the attention of the other patrons though he ignored their curious stares. "There we were, having a perfectly nice shower, touching and rubbing important bits, as you do," he said, a bit quieter and waiting for Harry to nod agreeably.

Harry snorted again, choking and coughing before nodding for Draco to continue.

"When all of a sudden he says 'do you like me?' I figured, fuck yeah, you suck cock like you're being paid to and don't seem to mind that I steal the blankets..." Draco shook his head, laughing at himself. "Well, then he starts to piss all over my feet and calves. And I jump back, shouting 'what the fuck' and nearly taking the curtain down with me and he's just staring, gobsmacked, and whinging about how I said I liked pee. I told him to get the fuck out in short order."

Harry slumped back in his seat, laughing so hard he knew he must be crying and his face hurt so bad, but the still incredulous look on Draco's face as he described the scene absolutely killed him. "Oh my god," he gasped, waving a negligent hand at the curious onlookers before wiping what felt like a tear off his cheek. "Oh my god, Malfoy."

Fic: favorite song - sentence challenge

winterdaffodils — Thu, 30 Jan 2014 02:09:08 GMT

Title: Lola
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Adam and Aaron -original/RPS/you don't know them-
Word Count: ~90
Rating: G
Warnings: N/A
Disclaimer: I don't own the fellows but sometimes it seems like we did, combine_rinraw and I spent our junior year fancrushing on them and taking insanely detailed, seemingly stalkerish, though fantastic people watching/observational notes. And then I burned the notes, which as far as observation goes is really too bad.
Summary: Good songs are good, endings aside
Author's Notes: This is my opinion on the song, though I was surprised it was the first thing to come to mind when my teapot decided the challenge.

“Christ, I fucking hate this song,” Adam complained, dropping his head back against the seat and staring out the window.

“I hate the end,” Aaron agreed half-heartedly, humming along a bit as he picked out the guitar parts against the steering wheel.

“You’re such a chick,” Adam laughed, grinning as Aaron flushed a light pink. “Always for the happy endings.”

“Well!” Aaron defended himself immediately, reaching over to kill the radio with a quick flick. “They were having a good time, weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Adam nodded, trying to hide his grin. “They were.”

Fic: Tumblr Eats Souls

winterdaffodils — Mon, 27 Jan 2014 04:30:07 GMT

Title: Tumblr Eats Souls
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~180
Rating: G
Warnings: fluff, humor
Disclaimer: They're not mine, if they were bad things would happen and then there would be smut. I only take them out to play for a bit.
Summary: Of all the Muggle things Harry has introduced him to, Draco loves the internet the most
Author's Notes: This is pretty much a case of Draco being me. I'm not ashamed of it

“What are you doing,” Harry demanded, throwing open the door of their drawing room and stopping abruptly as Draco turned to stare at him. “Oh.” He blinked, glancing between Draco the glare of the computer screen. “What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing,” Draco answered absently, dismissing Harry as he turned back to scrolling down a blue screen.

“What’s Tumblr,” Harry asked, stepping close enough to not have to squint at the computer screen.

“Nothing,” Draco mumbled again, clicking and opening new windows quicker than Harry could keep track of and view. Photos and text streamed past as Draco saved and downloaded and apparently attempted to crash the harddrive in one fell swoop.

“Who’s that,” Harry asked when Draco lingered over a slightly blown up photo of a blue-eyed man with light brown curly hair.

“No one,” Draco answered sharply, closing the window but foiled as another came into view. “Tom Hiddleston,” he said, closing that window as well. “Loki,” he sighed when Harry only blinked at him.

“God, I wish you were watching porn,” Harry whined when the name finally clicked.

Fic: Gryffindor Humour

winterdaffodils — Mon, 27 Jan 2014 04:21:09 GMT

Title: Gryffindor Humour
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Neville/Draco
Word Count: ~160
Rating: G
Warnings: fluff
Disclaimer: They're not mine, if they were bad things would happen and then there would be smut. I only take them out to play for a bit.
Summary: Draco doesn't always understand Neville's humour
Author's Notes: If you've read my samhain_smut fic, this will be a bit familiar. I totally stole the costume idea from myself (and Matt). Like Shakespeare, at least I only plagiarize myself (and Matt)(really this is completely his fault).

Neville swished his cape dramatically, showing off the costume he'd chosen for the Annual Alumni Hallowe'en Bash at Hogwarts. It'd taken ages to decide on and even longer to find the right pieces to complete it.

He looked up at Draco with a smile, expecting praise over how well it seemed to fit after all, and definitely not expecting ill-contained rage as the blond looked him over with a sneer.

"Is that supposed to be funny, Longbottom?"

He frowned, looking down at the form-fitting rubber. Was there something wrong with it? Did he look bad?

"Look, Draco, I know I'm no George Clooney or however many blokes have portrayed him, but I didn't think it looked that bad." He glanced down self-consciously. "Am I too fat?"

Draco snorted. "How should I know?"

Neville frowned, "I'm confused. What's the problem?"

Draco's hands were clenched at his sides. "You know how important he was to me!"

"Who?"

"Severus, you pillock!"

"But, I'm Batman."

Fic: Secrets 3 (TLC)

winterdaffodils — Mon, 27 Jan 2014 03:59:06 GMT

Originally posted by winterdaffodils at Secrets 3 (TLC)

Title: Secrets, pt3 (TLC)
Author: winterdaffodils
Team: Death Eaters!
Word count: 100
Rating: G, I apologize
Characters/pairings: Harry, Pansy/Luna
Challenge: #330, TLC
Warnings: so so unnecessary, I apologize again
Authors Notes: I have been waiting for a prompt all day! Pretty pathetic, and this doesn’t resolve much of anything, but we’ll get there. Also, if you’ve seen QAF (US version), you’ll get the joke and realize I'm a dork.
Disclaimer: Right now, belonging to me wouldn’t be so terrible, but they don’t.

"Luna, don't, that's Draco's favourite chair."

"I know, Harry," she smiled, watering it anyway.

"Stuff it, Potter," Pansy snapped, watching Luna tenderly. "Draco asked us to provide a little tender lesbian care while he's away. For you and the flat. You're hopeless."

"Not hopeless," Harry protested, watching Luna move on to the easternmost wall as Pansy pulled him aside.

"You're still pushing him," she hissed.

"Of course," Harry snapped. "We have to get through this. Figure it out."

"Think about what you're asking for. Are you really so dense?"

Harry swallowed loudly. "Why does he think he has to lie?

HD_Writers Quick Quotes Quill

winterdaffodils — Sun, 26 Jan 2014 20:22:37 GMT

You know I love new things to make my write, loving this new one too much. Can be a new piece or just a piece of a current WIP, makes life grand.

This week's prompt: COMFORT

Working on it now, debating how to go about posting it because it's part of a WIP that only my beta has seen so far. We shall see.

hd_writers

Fic: Mornings After Don't Always Suck

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 03:32:06 GMT

Title: Mornings after don't always suck
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Word Count: ~750
Rating: R
Warnings: fluff and humor
Disclaimer: unneeded
Summary: Following the War Harry believes he deserves a bit of rest and relaxation, the rest of the Wizarding World doesn't quite agree and when he wakes up in bed with Draco Malfoy, Harry can't quite fault them.
Author's Notes: Seriously no excuse for this at all, just a bit of fun.

The hot trickle of come seeping out of his arse woke Harry with a jolt, blurry eyes squinting to take in the unfamiliar room. It looked like one of the singles in the Leaky Cauldron. Crud had built up on the window panes and the whole room was in need of a thorough dusting. Three of them.

But he shouldn't have been at the Leaky, he should have been semi-safely ensconced in the dark and dreary halls of Grimmauld Place. Never to be seen again if Kreacher had his way. The hateful old elf had probably sent him here in a fit of pique at Harry's 'frequent' drunkenness. Though he had technically saved the Wizarding World—nearly died doing it, or had, depending on one's belief in out of body experiences or faith in Dumbledore—so Harry felt he deserved a little relaxing time off. The Daily Prophet—and Kreacher—did not agree. They—the Prophet—ran daily tabloids filled with the details of his seemingly rampant partying and promiscuity. He—Kreacher—took great pleasure in spreading the filth across Harry's waiting breakfast. Spiteful old bastard.

He—Harry—was more than ready to be done with the whole lot of them. If only Hermione wouldn't have his balls for murdering—er, planning a much needed vacation for the ancient elf. Oddly enough she had no compunctions against his terrorist bombing of the Daily Prophet, only shaking her head when Ron offered his assistance. Most days Harry felt like the only one really needing a holiday was himself. And then something would happen to remind him that, defeated dark wizard or no, life fucking sucked.

Like the decidedly male arm that wrapped around his chest and pulled him back against a chest lacking some very important parts. Of course the clincher was the extremely male organ currently trying to drill for oil. In his lower back.

Harry leapt as far away as the slim bed would allow, hands wrapping around the wand he found buried in the blankets. Not that wand, Potter, he hissed to himself.

Pale hands lifted in mock surrender, arms shifting as the man in the bed tried to cover his laughter.

Harry wanted to tell him he wasn't doing himself any favours, but then his eyes travelled over those shapely arms to broad shoulders and a strong neck and finally the handsome face and shining grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Who was still naked. And half-hard. In the bed. With Harry. Who was also naked and approaching full staff and could sure as hell feel the damning evidence leaking out of his arse.

Falling out of the bed was not his finest moment, but given the ludicrous situation, Harry felt perfectly obliged to land on his arse in shock. Even though the floor was freezing and his arse made a little squelching sound he would be embarrassed over until the day he died. Yes, completely justified.

If only Malfoy hadn't leant over the side of the bed, checking him over in concern and thereby revealing the expanse of his evenly muscled back.

Harry dragged a piece of discarded clothing across his lap, hoping to hide the erection that was clearly visible in the way his eyes devoured Draco.

The blond smiled, offering Harry a friendly hand back into the world of their warmed bed.

Harry accepted it slowly, sitting as far from the other man as possible and pulling the blankets back over his nudity.

Draco allowed it, lounging nakedly as though it meant nothing.

Harry shuddered as he felt a drop of pre-come join the wetness between his legs. “So...” he began awkwardly.

Draco stared at him expectantly before another light laugh slipped out. “For all your party boy reputation, you're terrible with the morning after, Potter.”

Harry grimaced. “I'll have you know—”

“All lies, I know. You were quite vehement. Especially about those rumours that you were a sadistic top who loves to make your bottoms cry.”

Harry blinked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Draco ran a confident finger along his crossed arms. “Whoever said that was dreaming,” he whispered. “You're as bottom as they come.”

Harry fell back against the pillows as Draco pushed him, staring at the blond towering over him.

Draco's fingers slid between his legs, stroking Harry's wet entrance. He brought those long fingers to his lips, licking one as Harry watched, enraptured.

“And I love making your bottom cry.”

Fic: Slow Moments

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 03:17:41 GMT

Title: Slow Moments
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Word Count: ~500
Rating: R
Warnings: fluff
Disclaimer: obvious
Summary: There's a time for rough and tumble and a time for slow and reveling.
Author's Notes: Written for hanyou_sensei, because I felt like the worst sort of asshole.

Draco kept one arm tight around Harry's shoulder and chest, his other hand strong on Harry's hip, the movement of his hips slow but insistent.

Harry lay against him, his breathing soft but ragged, glorying in the erotic depth of their slow fuck.

Draco let his left hand slide further, the tip of his middle finger only just grazing the sensitive skin of Harry's over-stimulated cock. He let the fingers of his right pluck at one of Harry's tight nipples.

It was all he could do to keep the movements slow when Harry moaned and rolled his hips hard into the languid thrust of Draco's prick. Only the tightly wrapped bandages that met the fingers of both hands kept him gentle, his movements loving rather than claiming.

They could have a vigourous, 'Thank-Merlin-I'm-Alive' shag some other night, tonight was a night for careful 'never-leave-me, I-couldn't-do-without-you' lovemaking—though Draco would never say that part out loud and Harry would probably check him for curses if he did.

Draco tongued and sucked a faint red mark onto the taut skin where Harry's neck became his shoulder. It would be easily concealed beneath the high collar of his Auror robes, even easier for Draco to flick said collar aside and darken the mark a little when Harry joined him for their daily impromptu lunch.

He smiled against Harry's skin, listening to his breathing change when he added a bit more pinch to his nipple play.

“Draco,” Harry moaned, his hands finding Draco's hair as he bared more of his neck for Draco's attention.

“Mm,” Draco hummed, his own breathing as slow and measured as the thrusts of his prick.

Harry shivered, clenching tight and forcing Draco's breath out of him in a harsh gasp.

“Harry,” Draco warned, his nails digging carefully into the skin of Harry's lower belly, tugging on the fine trail of hair that Draco loved to follow with his nose and tongue.

“I won't break,” Harry pointed out, rotating his hips and rubbing Draco's cock against all his most sensitive places.

“I know,” Draco answered mildly, still moving as slow as he knew they could stand.

“My mediwizard even cleared me for light to mildly strenuous activity,” Harry continued, his cock red and angry looking, leaking against his belly and Draco's hand.

“He didn't mean this,” Draco negated quickly, squeezing and stroking Harry's crown with his sticky foreskin.

“How do you know,” Harry whined petulantly, his fingers clenching tight in Draco's hair as his arse did the same around his prick.

“I'm your mediwizard,” Draco reminded him with a heartfelt groan, thrusting just a bit faster despite his earlier intent.

“Best mediwizard ever,” Harry panted, shuddering as his orgasm swept through him.

“You're biased,” Draco hissed through clenched teeth, his hips jerking as he spilled inside of Harry.

Fic: Toy

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 03:06:45 GMT

Title: Toy
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~1500
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, sex toys, pornstars
Disclaimer: unneeded
Summary: Draco knows what they like to see and Harry will have to give it to him.
Author's Notes: No real excuse for this one except I tend to watch porn and my teapot never really discourages me

Draco moaned as loudly as he could, the sound muffled by the width of the ball gag they had forced into his mouth. He tugged on his restraints, the leather cuffs biting uncomfortably into his skin and his suspended weight heavy on his wrists and ankles despite the strap supporting his bare arse.

The steady sound of rolling film almost but not quite masked the sound of lubricant being slicked over a silicone and rubber shaft.

Draco wriggled because he was supposed to, fighting the bonds or in anticipation, it was up to the viewer, but Draco hoped it was obvious how nervous the imposing black toy made him.

It was what the consumer wanted though, to see his upperclass arse split open around a massive prick. To watch him take the no doubt brutal thrusts, his perfectly pink arsehole turning an angry and tortured red before a bloke consented to fuck him and come on his face. He was supposed to look like he liked it. Sometimes he even did.

“Harry,” Stan called, waiting until the black-haired bloke between Draco's thighs turned his attention to the director before continuing, “no more than two fingers, mate, they want to see him stretch. Make him sweat.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Harry saluted with the glistening toy as Draco tensed, eyes flicking between the man and the toy in dismay. “Don't worry, dragon,” Harry said in a softer tone, ignoring Draco's scowl at the hated nickname. “It won't be long with Jungle Jack, they much prefer to see you taking a real prick.”

Draco glanced from Jack in Harry's hand to said prick, his pulse spiking as he noted their comparable length if not quite girth. Harry's cock wouldn't be all that different than taking the toy though Draco did profess a preference for the real thing.

“You okay,” Harry asked, ignoring the call for 'Action!', his fingers trailing over Draco's tensing thigh.

Draco tried to nod, his movements jerky in his desire to get this part over with.

Green eyes watched the dark toy slide over Draco's skin, the heat of them making Draco's flesh prickle even as two fingers pressed inside of him and he moaned into his gag.

“Gonna fuck you,” Harry grunted, their script generic for the genre.

Draco wiggled because he was supposed to, his eyes focused on the cocks, both real and synthetic, that they had chosen for him.

Two fingers wouldn't be enough.

All too soon Stan was giving the go ahead for heavier play and Draco grimaced as a wide, blunt head replaced those two ineffective fingers.

He was thankful for the gag muffling his shout as Jungle Jack's unforgiving shaft forced him open. His body tensed, his struggles real as he fought to either acclimatize to or expel the thick toy.

Soft fingers stroked his thigh, his cock, his hair, calming him with the unquestionably tender touch, and he slowly came to realize Harry was whispering to him too.

“...okay...almost there... can do this...seen you take two blokes...”

Draco wanted to shout that two well-lubed cocks was worlds away from one barely slick monster that felt like it might puncture a lung.

Harry smiled as though he could read Draco's mind and added a bit of his own weight to the resistant penetration.

Draco cried out again as the round base of the toy settled against his abused opening. He felt like sobbing in relief as Harry only rocked the massive toy inside of him, his flagging erection perking at the careful manipulation of his prostate. Harry was good at this, Draco noted absently, the thought following that wondering how good he was with his own penis.

Draco jerked, the bindings of the swing moving him off of the toy a fraction of an inch and letting gravity reinforce his impalement.

Draco shifted again, purposefully, his cock hard and bouncing against his stomach as he let his abdominal muscles work him on that teasingly fake cock.

He could feel Harry hot and heavy against his thigh, precome slicking his impotent thrusts, and Draco wished Stan would finally call 'Cut!' and let them get to the real fucking.

His cock spasmed, leaking a thick trail of precome over his stomach.

Harry's eyes burned into his when Draco looked up, his gaze promising a very satisfying suck and fuck as soon as the director sounded the okay.

Draco wriggled, deliberately rubbing against Harry's hunching hips and bobbing cock, ignoring the tightness in his bollocks in favor of a proper shag.

“Do it,” he tried to say through his gag, the words coming out garbled and high-pitched.

Harry's grin was positively smug as he cupped and squeezed Draco's testicles.

“Good, good,” Stan's nasally voice broke into the solitude of the scene. “Fuck him a bit more, open him for your cock, and then really give it to him.”

Draco took a deep breath, relaxing himself for the impending pounding and giving the other man a miniscule nod.

Teasing fingers answered him, tickling along the tight edge of his gag as Harry pulled the thick toy out and coated his own cock with the lube.

Draco shouted as Harry pushed inside of him, thighs tightening when Harry removed his gag.

“Move,” he demanded immediately, rocking almost viciously in his swing. “Hard and fast,” he continued under his breath. “That's how they like to see me fucked.”

Harry's nod was as subtle as Draco's had been, the sudden withdrawal and return of his prick was not.

Draco cried out and jerked, ignoring the camera in his face and the one no doubt between Harry's legs, catching all the action as it were.

They went at it as long as they could, Harry shoving the swing and standing still as it pushed and pulled Draco on his cock; Harry bent over him, hands clenching on Draco's shoulder and hair, hips battering Draco's; wanking Draco's already leaking cock for the camera's pleasure.

He was wound so tight and so ready that when Stan finally gave the signal, Draco arched nearly out of his seat with the force of his orgasm.

His voice was hoarse as he encouraged Harry to fill him full or come on his skin.

It burned when Harry pulled out, jerking his hand quickly over his swollen head and painting Draco's bollocks and stomach in thick white stripes.

Stan shouted an exultant 'Cut!' and hurried over, gesturing for assistants to bring towels and water to clean them up and cool them off. “Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant, dragon,” he crowed, ignoring Draco's grimace and Harry's smirk. “Your arse,” he hummed, face gone a little slack as his thoughts wandered reverently. “Your arse is made to take such punishment.”

Draco sat gingerly, silently but vehemently denying the statement but very glad he wasn't on schedule for a few days yet.

Stan seemed to take his silence for orgasmic lassitude, his eyes shining and his hands clenching at his sides so as not to reach out and grab Draco gleefully.

“Er, I'm a bit tired. And grotty,” he spoke quickly, only just hiding a wince.

“Of course. Of course,” Stan muttered. “Excellent shoot. One of the best ever. See you next week.”

Draco nodded and then nodded again to Harry, drawing his dressing gown tighter around his thin frame and heading back to the dressing rooms.

A few minutes later, as he was doing up his trousers and reaching for his belt, a soft knock stopped him. “Enter,” he called curiously. Anyone who had any business with him normally let themselves in.

Harry's dark head peeked around the door, his posture seeming to relax at finding Draco at least mostly dressed. “I, er, wanted to thank you for today. It was fun.”

“I'm not so sure my arse would agree with you,” Draco said with a grimace as he sat and reached for his socks and shoes.

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that,” Harry answered with a sympathetic wince, scratching the back of his head. “I've just worked with some blokes, I'd've been better off with my hand. You at least make it seem like you enjoy it.”

“I do enjoy it,” Draco said with a light flush, sliding on his coat and smoothing his hair. “Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand politely, shaking Harry's when he took it. “I'm Draco Malfoy, never Dragon.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry answered with a grin. “I'm alright with just Harry.”

Fic: Chocolate

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 02:57:05 GMT

Title: Chocolate
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Draco/Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~500
Rating: R
Warnings: oral, exhibitionism, chocolate
Disclaimer: pretty much unnecessary
Summary: Holidays are stressful enough without a generations long feud with the in-laws.
Author's Notes: My teapot makes demands, I fulfill them to the best of my ability.

It was the chocolate that did it. Harry could never resist the taste of the once forbidden confection. And once he had the gritty, sugary texture on his tongue, he couldn't wait to share it.

Draco slid his fingers into Harry's perpetually wild hair, holding him closer even as Harry gripped his hips in return. He tried to keep the kiss leisurely, teasing hints of tongue and teeth to keep them relatively grounded in reality. Harry's friends and family would arrive soon and it wouldn't do to be caught with their pants down. Again.

Harry moaned, squeezing Draco's hipbones encouragingly.

Draco laughed breathily, kissing Harry softly. “Later,” he promised, extracting himself from Harry's greedy hands. “We still have to finish making dessert.”

“Now,” Harry answered, dragging his finger through the chocolate again and painting Draco's mouth with it.

“They'll be here soon,” Draco warned half-heartedly, his tongue flicking out for a taste.

“I'll bet you who tops tonight that I can get you off long before,” Harry said with a cheeky smirk, sliding his chocolate covered finger into Draco's mouth.

“I know you can,” Draco muttered, sucking on Harry's finger eagerly.

“You won't even have to get naked,” Harry bargained, matching the thrust of his finger to the slow rocking of his hips. “No one will ever know that I just blew your mind sucking your cock.”

Draco groaned, reaching for his belt buckle. “Quickly,” he panted against Harry's lips. “I want the taste of your come in my mouth while the Weasel and I fail at making small talk.”

Harry busted out laughing, pushing Draco back against the counter and dragging his previously perfectly pressed trousers and pants down around his ankles. “I'll be hard all night thinking about that,” he promised, licking a long stripe up the length of Draco's cock.

“Good,” Draco hissed. “I'm going to fuck you for hours.”

Harry hummed appreciatively, taking all of Draco in a quick plunge.

“Fuck,” Draco gasped, praying Harry wouldn't gag. He'd been known to choke himself on purpose just so Draco could feel his throat spasm like an arse. He fisted his hands in Harry's hair, sucking in ragged breaths that did nothing to calm him. It was the one area of sex where he had never learned much self-control and all too quickly Draco felt his balls tightening promisingly. “Harry,” he huffed in belated warning, slumping over Harry as he swallowed the last of his come.

“I think you're actually getting worse at that,” Harry muttered after they'd both caught their breath. “Practically a sobbing virgin when your cock's in my mouth.”

“Piss off,” Draco grumbled, pushing Harry away none too gently and doing up his trousers. “You wouldn't be able to talk tonight if I actually tried to hold back,” he hedged, flushing darker because Harry was right.

Harry let him have his lie, standing up to plant a sloppy kiss on him.

Draco grimaced, pushing him again. “That's not the taste I was talking about.”

Harry grinned, unrepentant. “You deserved a kiss after that.”

Draco snorted, shoving Harry against the counter and running a careful hand through his own hair. “Don't muss my hair,” he warned, dropping to his knees as Harry dropped his jeans.

Fic: What Daddy Doesn't Know

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 02:48:56 GMT

Title: What daddy doesn't know
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: past Blaise/Draco, Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~1300
Rating: R
Warnings: groping in a grubby club
Disclaimer: The sad truth of all fandom: I do not own them, receive only personal pleasure from playing with them occasionally, and hope the authoress herself or her lawyers are never truly offended by my attempts at flattery.
Summary: What daddy doesn't know...sometimes people tell him. Draco is used to that.
Author's Notes: Again, there is mentioned and implied homophobia as well as attempted banning of the gay rights movement, this in no way represents what I myself feel or believe. If I had it my way equality would be a gender/race/orientation/religion neutral term. Sadly, that's probably for our children to settle.

Harry had seen the blond before, had seen him standing beside his equally handsome, equally stoic father on the election news broadcasts. He'd seen him stare into the camera, unmoved as his father preached against the immorality of homosexuality and how it was a disease that would rip society apart at its most basic level. How it destroyed families. He always shook his head regretfully before wrapping a loving arm around his son's shoulders.

Harry had seen the rigid certainty in both of them. And now he watched as Draco Malfoy plastered himself against a partially dressed black man and rocked sensually to the heady beat playing throughout the club.

The pure hypocritical bullshit of it filled Harry with disgust.

He watched angrily as the younger Malfoy talked and laughed with his companion, attention solely on enjoying himself and without a care that this was the last place he was wanted.

Harry took a large swallow of his drink, trying to quell the rage that built in his gut as the blond slid confident hands over his partner's chest and shoulders.

He wished he had a camera, could get tangible proof that the Malfoys were bigots and needed kept far from any political power.

It wouldn't really do any good, but imagining the look on Malfoy Senior's face when it was revealed that his own son liked a hard one cooled some of the anger he felt as he watched the blond take his boy toy’s hand and lead him further into the crush of the dance floor.

He could only stand a few minutes watching Malfoy press as close to as many sweaty men as he could before Harry felt like he had to do something.

He left his nearly empty drink sitting on the bar and waded into the mass of writhing bodies.

He danced his way toward the blond, rubbing against tight arses and hard bulges, until he knew he wouldn't be missed on Malfoy's next visual sweep of the crowd.

He pulled a pretty brunet against him, rocking into the bloke's arse and squeezing him through the front of his jeans. Eager hands pulled him closer, that arse cradling his growing erection, but Harry ignored the enticing touches.

Grey eyes were locked on his and they were full of anything but the coldness he had seen on the telly.

Long, pale fingers beckoned him closer and Harry abandoned his own partner with only an apologetic cock squeeze.

Strong hands gripped his hips as the music changed to something gentler. A slow and thorough fuck, Harry thought with a dirty grin as he slid his own hands around the blond's waist.

Malfoy matched the movements of his hips to the beat, a languorous roll that would open Harry's arse up perfectly before pounding him into the best orgasm of his life.

His moan was lost in the music as his cock pressed against the tight waistband of his jeans. Harry pressed closer, his erection grinding against the hard length of the blond's.

A sexy smirk met his eyes before Malfoy's previous dance partner drew his attention away. He pressed a possessive hand against Harry's hip before turning back to the man he had come with.

Jealousy filled Harry's heart, outweighing the anger he had felt at seeing the blond in a gay club in the first place, and strangely egged on by the tightness in his pants.

Harry watched the exchange of words curiously. The man was obviously irritated though Malfoy didn't seem all that perturbed. It made Harry achingly curious to know what was behind the argument but even that was overshadowed by the ache in his balls.

Harry grabbed Malfoy's hand, grinning when grey eyes met his again, and he tugged, leading the blond out of the crowd and away from watchful eyes.

Malfoy followed him willingly, past the bouncer and into the dark seclusion of the backroom. They weren't really alone, but it gave the illusion that they were.

Harry shoved the blond up against the wall. “What's a nice bloke like you doing in a place like this,” he whispered, jerking at the straining button and zipper of Malfoy's tight jeans.

Slim fingers gripped Harry through his own. “You know what they say,” Malfoy whispered back, squeezing as Harry arched into the touch. “What daddy doesn't know, won't disinherit me.”

Harry chuckled even though he didn't find what the younger Malfoy had been doing funny at all. He flexed his hand around the blond's cock and stroked him. “What sort of dastardly things do you get up to when daddy isn't looking,” he asked softly, nipping the tender underside of Malfoy's chin.

Malfoy rocked into the touch, working at Harry's fly. “This works,” he answered, shoving the jeans down Harry's hips.

Harry pushed the blond's clothing out of the way. “Such a naughty little Malfoy.”

The blond's movements slowed and then stopped altogether. “What did you say,” he gasped, pulling Harry's hands away from his bare skin.

Harry snorted. “Surely you didn't think you were unrecognisable. Not with that hair. Not with those eyes.”

Malfoy blinked quickly before coming back to himself, tucking his hard prick back into his pants and doing up his jeans. “Of course not! Not when my dear father has eyes everywhere.” He looked Harry over in open disgust. “How much is he paying you for this?”

It was Harry's turn to blink. “What?”

“How much is he paying you to come back with proof on his little queer son? Blaise fucking warned me...” He shook his head, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “I should have known,” he whispered, sneering at Harry. “Tell my father he can go straight to hell. Divorcing my mother does not mean he gets to go out and sire another 'more appropriate' heir.”

“First of all, I don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about. And second, your bastard father can go fuck himself!” Harry shouted, pulling his own jeans back up. “Fucking piece of shite tosser. Wouldn't piss on him if he were ablaze.”

Malfoy shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “You've been caught out. Give up the pretense and then sod off.”

Harry stared at him. “Does your dad really pay people to try and seduce you?”

The blond nodded, shifting his stance uncomfortably and Harry was pleased to see he was still hard.

“How long has he been doing that?” Harry asked, stepping closer.

“Since before I was even of age,” Malfoy snapped bitterly.

“So then you've never...”

“Of course I have. With Blaise.” Malfoy jerked his head, indicating the crowded club.

“No wonder he seemed so jealous,” Harry muttered.

“He's not jealous. He's protective.”

Harry stepped into the blond's personal space. “He's protective because he cares for you. But he's jealous because until now he's had your tight little arse all to himself.”

Malfoy sucked in a shuddering breath, turning his head so that his nose brushed over Harry's skin. “Until now?”

Harry's hand pressed lightly into the blond's erection before he gripped his hip. “Until now,” he affirmed, pressing his face against Malfoy's fragrant neck. “Now, when I'm going to press you against this wall and fuck you until you come.” He rubbed his thumb over the bare skin above the blond's jeans, encouraging his needy movements. “And then I'm going to keep fucking you. I'm going to bury my cock so deep in your hole that the force of my load will make you come all over again.” He pressed his teeth into Malfoy's pointy chin. “How does that sound?”

“Okay?” Malfoy swallowed loudly and cleared his throat. “I mean yes, that sounds good.”

“Good,” Harry whispered, fingers sliding down to open the blond's trousers once more. “I'm Harry, by the way.”

Hazy grey eyes blinked at him before the blond smiled. “I'm Draco.”

Fic: Weather the Weather

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 02:35:31 GMT

Title: Weather the Weather
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~400
Rating: G
Warnings: fluff, whiney Gryffindors
Disclaimer: The sad truth of all fandom: I do not own them, receive only personal pleasure from playing with them occasionally, and hope the authoress herself or her lawyers are never truly offended by my attempts at flattery.
Summary: Moving into a new place is stressful, things get forgotten in the rush to be done, overlooked because there's plenty of time. Sometimes Harry's an idiot, but Draco's used to that.
Author's Notes: To be fair to the weather, I wrote this last February -when it was also balls all cold.

There were some things that magic just couldn't equal, Draco thought, leaning closer to Harry beneath the warm duvet. Candlelight flickered and fluttered, casting shadows that Draco still remembered frightening him as a child. They didn't bother him now, though he did cuddle against Harry.

Harry's fingers slid through his hair, making Draco shiver for a new reason in the chilly room. "I'm sorry we didn't go to the Manor instead," he whispered, turning and drawing Draco up against his chest.

"It's fine," Draco insisted for the fifth time, huffing a little at having to repeat himself when it really was completely alright with him that they weren't in his thoroughly magical bedroom.

"You're just being nice about it," Harry huffed right back, tightening his arm around Draco's back and reaching over to grab his glasses off the nightstand.

"Have you met me? I'm never just nice about anything," Draco sputtered, sitting up to stare at Harry though he was quick to wrap the duvet around him again. The room was truly frigid.

Harry rolled his eyes, tucking the blankets around his shoulders. "You warned me, you should be saying 'I told you so' instead of acting as though this doesn't bother you."

"Honestly," Draco sighed, shaking his head and staring at the wall behind the flame. "How were you supposed to know the storm of the century would hit London while you were renovating your magically stripped house?" He looked around the nearly bare room. They had finished painting it that morning and Harry had been so overeager and excited about not sleeping on the lounge at Ron and Hermione's that he hadn't cared that they had only managed to set up his bed and a small table.

"Your mum warned me too, that I should wait until summer to do such extensive work in this house. I've just never had a house to think about like that," Harry continued, rubbing his hand up and down Draco's arm as though he were the one wallowing.

"Potter," Draco finally snapped, shrugging off Harry's caressing hand. "If you don't shut up about it right now, I will go back to the Manor and tell Mother and Father what a prat you are. You will sleep alone. And you will not get to warm me up. Seriously, I am unbothered by the general lack of heat and light."

Harry grinned, ever the indomitable Gryffindor. Eventually. "Okay," he agreed. "You're warm enough right now, aren't you?"

"I will hex you," Draco muttered, amused despite himself.

Fic: Airplanes

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 02:23:40 GMT

Title: Airplanes
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: N/A, Severus, Draco
Word Count: ~300
Rating: G
Warnings: N/A
Disclaimer: The sad truth of all fandom: I do not own them, receive only personal pleasure from playing with them occasionally, and hope the authoress herself or her lawyers are never truly offended by my attempts at flattery.
Summary: His mother used to tell him about stars made for wishing. Draco is trying to find one.
Author's Notes: I wrote this (3 years ago) because I absolutely cannot stand the song 'Airplanes' but loved the idea behind it.

Draco watched the lights as they flared within the Earth's atmosphere. His mother had told him once that if he were to find the brightest one-on a night very much like this one-he might make a wish, any wish he meant fiercely, and have it come true.

He'd been watching the flares for ages it seemed, each no brighter than all the rest. But he focused carefully on having the proper wish ready for when he found the right one.

Draco wished for a thicker cloak, one with better heating charms than the one that Severus had had to purchase for him.

He wished for a full stomach, regretting all the nights he had been too sick with fear and worry over fulfilling his mission to even feel properly hungry.

Draco wished for the comfort of his bed in the manor, rather than the meager protection of his bedroll.

He wished for someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't cast disparaging looks on his attempts at some kind of normalcy.

Draco wished for many things.

That he'd never followed his father, that his father had never been sentenced to Azkaban, that the Dark Lord had never returned, that Potter had only shaken his hand.

The sparks in the sky flared and burned out, none matching his need.

Draco wished for a wishing star.

"Draco, what are you doing?"

Draco looked away from the sky, glancing quickly at his mentor. "I'm looking for the right star."

Severus looked at him askance. "How will you know the right one?"

Draco turned back to the star speckled sky. "Mother said it would be the one that burned the brightest."

Severus focused on the point in the sky Draco seemed to be observing. "Those are not shooting stars, Draco."

Fic: Welcome Home, Brother

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 01:57:36 GMT

Title: Welcome Home, Brother
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: N/A, Thor, Loki
Word Count: ~95
Rating: G, despite the tags
Warnings: blood, fluff
Disclaimer: Loki takes offense at the very idea of ownership.
Summary: Bringing Loki home was a heartbreak all its own
Author's Notes: I had to write this immediately after seeing The Avengers in theaters, it was all I really cared about after the fact

Loki's cold green eyes were hard, the expression in them almost cruel as Thor unbuckled the bridle. They both winced as the studded bit slid out of Loki's mouth.

"You know you should not have tried to speak," Thor remonstrated softly, wiping a trace of blood off of Loki's lower lip with his thumb.

"God of deceptions and trickery," Loki spoke carefully, lips twisting in discomfort.

"It is good to have you home again, brother." Thor smiled and pressed his lips against his younger brother's forehead before drawing him into a strong embrace.

Fic: Klaine 4ever

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 01:50:14 GMT

Title: Klaine 4ever
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Blaine/Kurt
Word Count: ~85
Rating: G
Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort
Disclaimer: I do not own the Glee lads though you could sell me darling Darren, he's my second favorite Harry Potter.
Summary: Blaine regretted it immediately, but Kurt just wasn't there
Author's Notes: I swear to God and pray too, that this is the only one

He'd written it in all of his notebooks, all of his textbooks, and even a few library books that he'd just have to hope no one ever noticed. It was there every time he turned a page, every time he looked in his backpack. He even had some that Kurt had written, sitting across from him in the library and beside him in the cafeteria.

Kurt and Blaine forever

KH<3BA

Klaine 4ever

He couldn't throw them away, couldn't keep them. Because forevers don't last.

Fic: Sunder, sentence challenge

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 01:43:34 GMT

Title: Sunder
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: N/A
Word Count: ~110
Rating: RRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Warnings: torture/abuse, general badness
Disclaimer: The sad truth of all fandom: I do not own them, receive only personal pleasure from playing with them occasionally, and hope the authoress herself or her lawyers are never truly offended by my attempts at flattery.
Summary: Failing Voldemort is Draco's greatest regret
Author's Notes: hanyou_sensei gave me a wicked, tricksy word prompt.

Draco sobbed, curling tighter into himself amid the bones and shredded clothes of those who had occupied his cell before it had been given to him.

His body ached, his back and legs nothing but stripes of skin, blood soaking into what was left of his school robes as he shivered and moaned.

The light in the dungeon was dim at best, hiding the things that skittered and slithered in the darkness.

Draco prayed the noises he heard approaching were from rats but knew it could as easily be Nagini coming for a taste or someone else hoping for another go. He dragged himself against the rough-hewn wall, hiding his face.

Fic: Numb, sentence challenge

winterdaffodils — Tue, 21 Jan 2014 01:25:18 GMT

Title: Numb
Author: winterdaffodils
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Word Count: ~115
Rating: R, just for the warnings
Warnings: implied non-con, use of unforgivables
Disclaimer: The sad truth of all fandom: I do not own them, receive only personal pleasure from playing with them occasionally, and hope the authoress herself or her lawyers are never truly offended by my attempts at flattery.
Summary: It's easier, simpler, to fall under the spell.
Author's Notes: I feel like I should just straight out apologize. This was my original piece/idea for hp_darkarts's imperius challenge, but it was so short I felt like an ass and I went with something else.

Draco sighed, enjoying the warm rush of the spell, its tingling spreading through his previously tense muscles. He slumped, floating and languid, happy to watch the masterful manipulation of his limbs.

Soft words caressed his skin like the hands that touched him, controlling his mind and body with only a careful thought. Draco moaned and murmured, allowing whatever was wanted.

He blinked slowly, calmness washing away every worry and doubt, any pain or discomfort as thick fingers pushed inside of him. He breathed easily, twisting and spreading when directed, resting where he had been left.

It was so easy, simple. He could have been dreaming. Numb to everything but the peace inside. Perfect.