hd365_mod (hd365_mod) wrote in hd_365, @ 2006-11-30 19:22:00 |
|
|||
Original poster: profmckitten
Title: Booty Dance
Author: profmckitten
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry and Draco. If you sue, it will be a waste of time 'cause I don't have any money either. Just having a bit of fun here...
Word Count: 1518
A/N: Thanks again to mordyn4 for the beta! Smooch!
“Good-bye, you hot mess,” Draco purred. He ran his hand down the center of Harry’s chest.
“Bye,” Harry giggled. He was flat on his back and still loopy from the amazing shag Draco had just laid on him. Though he usually preferred topping, he had to admit, lying back and thinking of England every now and then wasn’t so bad. Draco was a man of many talents.
Draco leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “Aren’t you going to tell me how wonderful I am for going to the grocer’s to get your biscuits for you?”
“You did eat them all,” Harry pointed out.
Draco’s eyes fell to slits.
“But,” Harry intervened, dragging Draco down for another, lengthier kiss. “You are wonderful. You’re the bee’s knees, the crème de la crème, the cream of the crop, the top of the pile, the—”
“All right, all right, that’s enough. I’m going,” Draco laughed. He mussed Harry’s hair before Apparating away.
Harry relaxed back onto the bed with a contented sigh, thinking that there was no way this day could be anything but perfect.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Harry sprang from the bed, thinking that Draco had returned, as he often forgot things when he left the house. Grinning like a maniac, Harry streaked through the living room, crying “Coming!” between mad cackles, and without even checking the peep hole, flung the door wide.
Harry turned around and poked his backside towards the door. He commenced a rather suggestive, if uncoordinated, booty dance.
“Something you forgot, you big, hard-driving stud you?”
Still shaking his hips from side to side, he peered back over his shoulder.
“Oh my God!” he shrieked. His hands instinctively shot downwards to cover his private parts. He took several steps backwards.
Narcissa Malfoy was standing on the other side of the door. Her face was as unreadable as ever, though there was a slight twitch at the right corner of her mouth and, though the hall light was dim, Harry thought her eyes were sparkling a bit more than usual.
“I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything, nor have I ever before been accused of being a ‘hard-driving stud’, but it would seem that you have forgotten something.” Narcissa’s eyes scanned his naked body. “Your clothes, for one.”
Harry stood, cupping his balls, eyes bulging nearly out of his head.
Narcissa, always at her wits end with the fumbling Gryffindor, let out an exasperated sigh.
“Of course, Harry, I’d be happy to come in and have a seat while you take a moment to make yourself presentable. No, that’s fine, thank you, I’ll make myself a cocktail.”
She swept by him with a roll of her eyes.
Harry blinked, startled. “Oh, um, yes, sorry. The bar is over there,” he said, using his head to indicate the corner where the drinks cart was as he didn’t dare raise a hand to point. “I’ll, um, be right back.”
“I can hardly wait,” Narcissa droned. She picked up a bottle of scotch and eyed it carefully, then removed the stopper and gave a quick sniff. “Well, at least my son hasn’t lost his taste in spirits.” She poured herself a stiff three fingers and went to the couch.
Harry strolled back in, blushing so fiercely that the color looked as if it were splashing upwards from his chest.
“Sorry about that. Draco just went to the grocer’s. He forgets stuff sometimes and has to come back. I thought you were him.”
“Really? I would’ve never guessed. Lovely shade of red, dear, though I must admit, I rather expected to see you with a large yellow streak up your back, you bloody coward.”
Harry gulped. “Are you enjoying your scotch?” His voice sounded exactly as it had before it changed back at fourteen.
“Quite. Why have you not asked him? Each day, I find myself expecting a visit from a buoyant son, a son who has just received a proposal of marriage from his true love, but each day, nothing. Nothing, Mr. Potter. And as a Black and a Malfoy, I’ve a large distaste for nothing, particularly when it replaces something I want rather badly. And I want Draco married rather badly. Hence giving you the rings.”
Harry meekly sat down. “Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, I understand. It’s just…the time hasn’t been right. I want it to be perfect.”
“What are you on about? You have rings, you are in love, and the two of you are at each other every day! You cannot tell me that an appropriate moment hasn’t arisen! There have even been romantic locations—first the Manor, and you were just in Cornwall!”
“Yes, but we were working! And when we were at the Manor, we had just found that stuff in the flat, which they think is some sort of listening device planted there by former Death Eaters, so you know. We’ve been a bit stressed!”
“Tosh!” Narcissa barked, slamming her drink down on the coffee table. “I am telling you, Potter,” Harry jumped at how much she sounded like Draco, barking his last name, “if you don’t act, and soon, I’ll be forced---”
There was a loud crack that Harry recognized at once. Draco had returned.
“Shhhhh!” he hissed, finger pressed to his lip. “He’s home.”
Narcissa picked up her scotch and kicked it back in one.
Draco walked into the living room slowly, a small brown bag in his arm. Harry could see that it was filled with boxes of his favorite biscuits. A small smile played across his face. Narcissa scowled at him, curdling it at once.
“Mum? What…what are you doing here?” Draco asked, eyes slowly and suspiciously traveling from his mother to Harry and back again.
“I just wanted to pop in for a friendly visit, love,” she said. “I thought the two of you might have some news you wanted to share.” She glared pointedly at Harry.
Draco looked even more confused and suspicious. “Noooo. Why would we?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Do you have any ideas on the subject, Harry?”
“Ergsnickerfloopshizt—”
“Harry, dear, you’re mumbling. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” she cooed.
Harry had gone bright red again.
“Mother, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but leave him alone! You tortured him enough while we were at the Manor! Whatever you’re pestering him about, stop it!” Draco yelled, tossing the bag of biscuits onto the couch and advancing on his mother.
“Draco! How dare you use that tone with me!”
“Draco, you should apologize to your mother,” Harry interrupted.
Draco stamped his foot. “What is going on? The two of you have been up to something for over a week now!”
“If you must know, Draco, I have been discussing your Christmas gift with Harry. I had something rather special I wanted to do, and I have been trying to enlist your better half’s assistance,” Narcissa said from the couch, voice filled with indignation. She and Harry met eyes and understanding passed between them at once.
“Yes, that’s right. She heard of some mad program where you go on a Demiguise hunt and have a coat or a blanket or some such made from its fur. She wanted me to do the killing so she could have the hide for you. To make a Christmas gift.”
“That’s right, Draco, and your selfish, mean boyfriend refused to do it!”
“Mother!” Draco yelled. “How could you? You know I hate fur! And Demiguise’s are perfectly peaceful animals. They’re herbivores, for Merlin’s sake. That is the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard. I’m glad Harry wouldn’t do it!”
Narcissa stood from the couch and clutched her purse to her chest. “Oh. I see. The mother is the villain and the boyfriend is the hero. May as well spit on the mother. How silly of her, wanting to buy a lovely, rare, expensive gift for her son.” She sniffed dramatically. “I’ll just be going now.”
“Mum, I didn’t mean that. It’s lovely that you want to get something special for me, it truly is, but honestly, that’s a bit strong.”
Draco moved forward and awkwardly embraced his mother. “I’m sorry. For what I said. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly.
Harry’s felt a lump form in his throat. Just as he was getting a bit misty, Narcissa abruptly pushed Draco away and stepped aside, causing Draco to almost fall.
“Well, that’s enough of that. If you don’t want a Demiguise fur throw, then I suppose I’d better get back to the drawing board! Good day, dear. Harry, show me to the door!”
There was really no showing Narcissa to the door, as she simply stomped by Harry, her chin lifted haughtily.
“Nice job,” she whispered to Harry.
“Thanks,” he whispered back.
Narcissa cocked an eyebrow and blessed Harry with the original Malfoy Smirk, the one copied so well by her beloved little boy. “And nice arse. But next time, do check the peephole.”
She turned on her heel and Apparated away, leaving Harry sputtering in her wake.