hd365_mod (hd365_mod) wrote in hd_365, @ 2006-06-30 21:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | moonflower-fic, prompt 13: danger |
Original poster: moonflower_rose
Title: The Page-turner
Author: moonflower_rose
Pairing: HP/DM
Genre/Rating: PG-13; fluff
Warnings: The usual
Length: 700(ish) words
Summary: Draco's reading, and Harry's being a bother.
Disclaimer: Please see my disclaimer here.
This is possibly the drunkest/most hungover I've been while posting here, and this is possibly the crappiest fic I've posted here. Are the two related? *ponders*
If Draco were any closer to the pages of his book, he’d be sitting on it rather than reading it. It was fantastic. The plot was gripping, and he’d hardly put it down since he started reading. He read as fast as he was able, not wanting to miss a single detail, but desperate to get to the thrilling climax –
Harry snorted, loudly, breaking Draco’s concentration.
He looked up sharply, an irritated scowl drawing his brows together in sharp lines. Harry was sitting in his armchair, his glasses so far down his nose only magic could have been keeping them balanced, and the Daily Prophet spread out all around him like some kind of paper blanket.
“Harry, please. I’m trying to read. Your horse noises are distracting.”
Harry grinned at him apologetically. “Sorry. I’ll try not to.”
“Thanks…” Draco mumbled, the words already trailing off as his focus centred back on his novel, where an Unspeakable named Hollingwood was bound by magic and at the mercy of the evil dark wizard Try–
Harry snorted again, louder this time. Draco raised his head with a glare. Harry was grinning away, completely oblivious and reading something in the Prophet that was clearly hysterically funny.
“What?”
He looked up, shoving his glasses all the way back up his nose.
“What…oh! Sorry! It’s nothing. Just something I read. Reminded me of something funny that happened once. Sorry. I promise I won’t disturb you again.”
“You had better not,” Draco snapped with irritation, “because Hollingwood is tied to a chair at the mercy of the evil dark wizard Trygvasson, and I’m trying to find out how he’s going to escape.”
Harry’s own eyebrows seemed to be making an attempt at rejoining his hairline, and he clamped down on his bottom lip with his teeth. Harry, Draco realised, was trying not to say something condescending. Like ‘aww, how cute!’ or…
“Draco, you are so adorable sometimes!”
“Potter, if you don’t put a filter between your brain and your mouth right quick, you’re going to find yourself tied to a chair at the mercy of the evil dark wizard Malfoy. I’m not kidding. I really like this book. Please, shut up?”
Harry rolled his eyes, obviously not at all believing he was in any danger, but nodded.
“Alright. No problem. I’ll let you get back to it.”
Draco slid down on the settee, right onto his back, shoving a mound of squashy cushions behind his head. He slipped back to the gritty streets of Berlin, the seemingly abandoned warehouse that wasn’t so abandoned after all; back to an Auror who was fighting for his life and for the wellbeing of all wizarding kind. Draco’s heart rate sped up with anticipation. He could practically feel the adrenaline pounding in Hollingwood’s blood as he worked on his bonds with wandless magic. How was he going to get out of this one?
“…It was in second year training, and Sanderson was supposed to go and get our group some coffee, but - Draco? YARGH!!!”