|shiv5468 (shiv5468) wrote in adventdrabbles,|
@ 2007-12-20 23:40:00
|Entry tags:||contributor: shiv5468, dec17, dec18, dec19, dec20, fandom: harry potter, year: 2007|
Dec 17-20, Harry Potter
(I cheat on one of the prompts)
Title: Unwrapping Presents
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Hermione / Lucius (following on from the previous series of drabbles, and including the firelight that should have been in the last one)
Lucius had every expectation of a warm welcome in Hermione's room, as the door wasn't warded against him.
The fire had been built high, and the firelight flickered over the amber-silk clad figure resting on top of the covers.
He smiled, his hands going to the cord of his dressing gown.
Hermione shook her head. "Now, now, I prefer to unwrap my Xmas presents myself."
"Oh, I quite agree," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and running a finger along her hip. "And such nice wrapping it is too."
Title: Star / Christmas tree
There are rumours that a there exists a branch of the Dark Arts entirely devoted to achieving sexual satisfaction.
There are rumours that there are three books on the topic, and only one of them is in a private library.
The rumours are true.
Rumour doesn't say who owns that book, though anyone who has ever engaged in a sexual liaison with a Malfoy can attest to its efficacy.
Harry, in particular, has very fond memories of the position referred to on page 234, the Star.
He was even fonder of the muscle relaxant potion that Severus brewed for him the next day.
He'd need two bottles to even consider attemptin the Christmas tree formation.
Pairing: Severus, Minerva
Following on from the drabble where Severus visits Dumbledore's grave
There was a moment when he stood at the door of Hogwarts, and wondered whether he'd made a mistake. He'd tried to step round the fortuneteller's words, but here, with the force of a hex, the past rose up to face him.
Here, he had had to stand by and watch the Carrows torment his charges.
Here, he had spent a year with only portraits for company, facing the certainty of his own death, and worse, his vilification.
Filch saw him first, gaped, then turned on his heel to pass on the news.
Minerva came hurrying to the door, robes fluttering behind her, then fetched up short, hand to her mouth.
"Severus! Oh, thank god. You've come home."
And then he was engulfed in a fierce, tartan embrace, scented with lavender. He put a hand to her shoulder, patting it awkwardly. She was crying. He'd never seen Minerva cry, not in all the years he'd known her.
Perhaps she was right, perhaps he was home.