Football Drabble: The World Cup -- Reminiscences
More Football Drabble which follows on from The World Cup: England v Trinidad and Tobago - Post-match debate. In this part, Harry reminisces with Hermione about the Sweden v England match.
There is fluff ... lots of fluff and I’m rating it as NC-17 for talk of sex, though there ISN’T any actual boy!smut in it.
With thanks to chinawolf for her quick response to my questions and to karlie_dakota for her comment about the English fans in Cologne.
The World Cup: Reminiscences
Location: A house somewhere in the South of England. I can’t tell you where exactly because it is unplottable thanks to the anti-location spells on it.
The date: Saturday 24th June 2006
Late afternoon
“You really are looking spectacularly smug, Harry. Rather like the cat who got the cream.” She watched as Harry glanced sideways at her and gave a throaty Meeeoooow as he reached for his bottle of beer. “Are you going to tell me why?”
“I would, but Draco would hex me if he found out. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
She chuckled, her friend’s obviously buoyant mood rubbing off on her as they sat in Harry’s garden enjoying the late afternoon sun. “What if I promise not to tell him?” She glanced meaningfully back towards the house where Draco and her husband were still deeply engrossed in discussions about some new potions ingredients had Severus wanted to order. “Gryffindor’s Honour.”
Harry stretched on his sun lounger, clearly trying hard not to let his smile grow any further. “He’ll know ... he always knows.”
“Do you really think he’s not telling Sev as we speak?” Pushing herself up, Hermione turned to sit on the edge of her own lounger. The fact was she hadn’t seen Harry look this happy for a very long time. Oh, she knew he was content with life and deliriously in love with Draco, but this was a little different. This was Happy with a capital ‘H’, and in all the years she’d known him, Harry had never looked quite like this. “And I just know you’re dying to tell me.”
Harry stared thoughtfully into the branches of the tree they were under as if the very leaves would give him an answer. “Okay. Do you want the long or short version?”
“It depends on how long Draco and Sev might be.”
“Well, I think we safely have at least a hour. Make yourself comfortable.”
Reaching for her glass of wine, she leaned back. “Okay.”
“It all started last Tuesday morning. I’d just finished breakfast and was trying to get ready to look after Georgie for the day....”
---
Tuesday 20th June 2006
“I’ve told Neville we won’t be visiting tonight.”
Harry paused in his rummaging in the cupboard and stared across the kitchen to where Draco was still sitting at the table. He’d only been half-listening to Draco talking about something in the Daily Prophet and the sudden change in the topic of conversation had taken him by surprise. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
“Um, trying to find Georgie’s building blocks ... you have remembered I’m looking after him today.” He watched as Draco shrugged, absently picked up his wand and without taking his eyes from the Prophet cast a spell.
“Accio Building Blocks.” Another cupboard door opened and the small wooden box slithered across the floor. “It’s called magic, Harry.”
“I know.” He pulled off the lid and checked what was inside the box. “And what do you mean, we’re not going to Neville’s?”
Draco glanced across the table and for a moment Harry thought he saw a flicker of a smug smile on his partner’s face. “Actually it was Luna I spoke to. I told her we had other plans.”
“What?”
The smile flickered into a smirk. “You’re repeating yourself, Harry.”
“You can’t just go cancelling things without talking to me about it first.” Harry felt a knot of annoyance tighten inside him. Draco was always doing that, changing things without asking if Harry minded, and every time he would just let it go and not complain. But tonight he had been planning on watching the Sweden v England match with Neville, and now Draco had made ‘other plans’. He slammed the lid back onto the box, scrambled to his feet and planting his feet firmly on the ground, he folded his arms and gave a huff of annoyance. “How would you like it if I did that to you?”
Draco lowered the newspaper to the table and stared at Harry. “There’s no need to go into one of your self-righteous Gryffindor strops, Harry. There never was a meal planned for tonight.”
“What?”
“Repeating yourself again. It was a cunning plan to stop you organising anything else.” Getting to his feet, Draco walked around the table and, stopping just in front of Harry, he reached up and cupped Harry’s cheek. “And you’re not looking after Georgie either.”
“What?” This time the word was a hissed whisper, but Harry refused to lean into the touch. Draco was damn well not going to get to him.
“More of my cunning plan, love.” Draco leaned in and brushed his lip’s gently against Harry’s and even though Harry didn’t want to, he could feel his stance relax and his stiffly folded arms slowly dropped. Then Draco palmed something and pressed it against his chest.
It was an envelope.
---
Saturday
“What was in it?”
“You know what it was ... you were in on this! Asking me to look after Georgie so you and Ginny could go shopping.”
“Actually I wasn’t. Draco did ask me, but he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. He just said it was a surprise.”
“It was. The envelope had two tickets for the England match against Sweden in Cologne that night. Apparently Draco’d had them for ages and he didn’t want to tell me about them. So, once I’d got over the shock of realising I was actually going to see the match and that Draco was coming with me, he told me to go and get packed.” Harry gave a chuckle. “Only then did I realise we had to actually get to Cologne....”
---
Tuesday
“Ready?”
Harry nodded as he cast a reduction spell on his small suitcase. Draco’s case looked much bigger and he wondered just how much a person needed for twenty-four hours. “Have you packed your England shirt?”
Draco pulled a face and grimaced, but nodded as he handed Harry another envelope. “That’s money. Apparently the German Muggles use something called ‘Euros’. Gringott’s refused to get them for me so I had to change Galleons into Pounds and then go to a Muggle bank to get the Euros.”
Pulling Draco into a hug, Harry just held onto him for a moment before nipping at his earlobe and whispering a soft “Thank you.” They held each other for a moment longer before Draco pulled back.
“Come one, or we’ll be late.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet bag, which he emptied onto the kitchen table. A rather grubby pair of Muggle pennies rolled out. “Portkeys.”
Now it was Harry’s turn to pull a face. He still hated Portkeying even though it has been many years since the events at the Little Hangleton cemetery. The way Voldemort had managed to snatch both him and Cedric Diggory stood as a reminder of just how unsafe some Wizarding forms of travel could be. “Can’t we Apparate?”
Draco gave a snort. “You might be able to Apparate that far in one go, but I’d have to do it in several stints and then be too warn out to enjoy myself. Trust me, Harry.”
Harry stared into those grey eyes and finally gave a nod. “You know I do.” Reaching for one of the coins, he closed his eyes as he felt the familiar tug behind his navel.
---
Saturday
“When I finally opened my eyes I was in the most incredible hotel room with huge picture windows overlooking what I assumed must be Cologne. I remember just standing there and looking down at the river and across to a building that had to be a cathedral.”
Hermione nodded. “It’s the Dom Cathedral and the river is the Rhine. I remember going there with my parents.”
“The hotel room ... well, suite ... was huge. There was even a fireplace and a kitchen. We could have spent the entire time there. I dread to think how much it must have cost.”
With an indulgent smile, Hermione reached out and squeezed Harry’s arm. She was tempted to remind him that Draco clearly thought he was worth it, but instead she just let he carry on with his story.
“We unpacked and then went off to explore. The match didn’t start until 9pm, so we had loads of time. Draco’s parents had taken him there when he was about fifteen and we went to the Cathedral and then on to the Museum Ludwig, which was modern art.” Harry paused thoughtfully. “I’m not sure about modern art, but Draco really liked it. But the best thing was that I was in a city with 60,000 other English football fans and the atmosphere was incredible with people singing and enjoying themselves. We found somewhere for dinner and drank beer and I would have been happy with just that.”
“What about Draco? Did he enjoy it?”
Harry looked at her and winked. “Draco wore his red England shirt and drank his beer and sang and shouted during the match like the rest of us. But, he’ll deny all of that if you ask him.”
“I bet he would. But England only ended up with a draw ... two goals each against Sweden.”
“It wasn’t the best of games, and Michael Owen injured himself in the first minute, but being there, Hermione. The atmosphere was great and in the end a draw was enough to let us win our group. At least we didn’t have to play against Germany today. After the match we found a club and danced and celebrated until the early hours. By the time we got back to the hotel I was past being tired. I was happy and more than a bit drunk....”
---
Early hours of Wednesday morning
Draco sat on the plush sofa and studied Harry who was staring out of the window at the lights from the city. He felt like a tiger about to stalk his prey, because that was what he intended to do. Harry was coiled like a spring after the match and the post-match celebrations, and there was nothing Draco liked more than the feral look he’d seen in Harry’s green eyes as they’d come up in their room in the hotel lift.
He was tempted to go and join his lover, but he wanted Harry to come to him; wanted to watch Harry saunter across the room with that little sexy sway of his hips. Then Harry would probably ask how he could repay Draco for the great time they’d had.
Draco licked his lips expectantly and could feel himself harden a little. He knew what he’d suggest; that Harry wank for him right there on the rug or in the middle of the huge kingsize bed. Draco didn’t care where as long as he could watch as Harry worked himself to an orgasm. Harry would blush just a little at the suggestion and then slowly disrobe. Those green eyes would stay locked on Draco’s face throughout and just that look would be enough to make Draco hard. And then, after watching Harry come through the afterglow, he’d take Harry and lose himself in that incredible tightness and heat. He’d feel Harry clench around him and watch the little shining beads of sweat as they ran down Harry’s spin.
Afterwards he’d lick and kiss and clean away Harry’s come, because he knew he’d make his beautiful lover come again. Then they’d lay there and watch the midsummer Solstice sun as it rose over the city.
The perfect end to a perfect day.
He watched as Harry turned and padded barefoot across the room. “Today has been brilliant. How on earth am I ever going to repay you?”
---
Saturday
It had, Harry remembered, been incredible. His sex life with Draco was always really good, but sometimes it moved beyond that. It was, as Draco had once told him, a veneration and Harry was happy to have Draco worship his body in the way he wanted to worship Draco. He loved Draco and as they’d lay there in the predawn, he’d wondered what he would do if Draco ever decided to leave him.
He looked across at Hermione and realised that they’d both fallen into silence when he’d stopped telling her the story at the point he and Draco had arrived back at the hotel.
“Harry?”
He could feel tears prick at the back of his eyes as his lip quirked in a half smile. “He asked me to marry him, Hermione.”
She gave a little gasp. “And?”
“And I said yes.”
---
There is fluff ... lots of fluff and I’m rating it as NC-17 for talk of sex, though there ISN’T any actual boy!smut in it.
With thanks to chinawolf for her quick response to my questions and to karlie_dakota for her comment about the English fans in Cologne.
The World Cup: Reminiscences
Location: A house somewhere in the South of England. I can’t tell you where exactly because it is unplottable thanks to the anti-location spells on it.
The date: Saturday 24th June 2006
Late afternoon
“You really are looking spectacularly smug, Harry. Rather like the cat who got the cream.” She watched as Harry glanced sideways at her and gave a throaty Meeeoooow as he reached for his bottle of beer. “Are you going to tell me why?”
“I would, but Draco would hex me if he found out. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
She chuckled, her friend’s obviously buoyant mood rubbing off on her as they sat in Harry’s garden enjoying the late afternoon sun. “What if I promise not to tell him?” She glanced meaningfully back towards the house where Draco and her husband were still deeply engrossed in discussions about some new potions ingredients had Severus wanted to order. “Gryffindor’s Honour.”
Harry stretched on his sun lounger, clearly trying hard not to let his smile grow any further. “He’ll know ... he always knows.”
“Do you really think he’s not telling Sev as we speak?” Pushing herself up, Hermione turned to sit on the edge of her own lounger. The fact was she hadn’t seen Harry look this happy for a very long time. Oh, she knew he was content with life and deliriously in love with Draco, but this was a little different. This was Happy with a capital ‘H’, and in all the years she’d known him, Harry had never looked quite like this. “And I just know you’re dying to tell me.”
Harry stared thoughtfully into the branches of the tree they were under as if the very leaves would give him an answer. “Okay. Do you want the long or short version?”
“It depends on how long Draco and Sev might be.”
“Well, I think we safely have at least a hour. Make yourself comfortable.”
Reaching for her glass of wine, she leaned back. “Okay.”
“It all started last Tuesday morning. I’d just finished breakfast and was trying to get ready to look after Georgie for the day....”
---
Tuesday 20th June 2006
“I’ve told Neville we won’t be visiting tonight.”
Harry paused in his rummaging in the cupboard and stared across the kitchen to where Draco was still sitting at the table. He’d only been half-listening to Draco talking about something in the Daily Prophet and the sudden change in the topic of conversation had taken him by surprise. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
“Um, trying to find Georgie’s building blocks ... you have remembered I’m looking after him today.” He watched as Draco shrugged, absently picked up his wand and without taking his eyes from the Prophet cast a spell.
“Accio Building Blocks.” Another cupboard door opened and the small wooden box slithered across the floor. “It’s called magic, Harry.”
“I know.” He pulled off the lid and checked what was inside the box. “And what do you mean, we’re not going to Neville’s?”
Draco glanced across the table and for a moment Harry thought he saw a flicker of a smug smile on his partner’s face. “Actually it was Luna I spoke to. I told her we had other plans.”
“What?”
The smile flickered into a smirk. “You’re repeating yourself, Harry.”
“You can’t just go cancelling things without talking to me about it first.” Harry felt a knot of annoyance tighten inside him. Draco was always doing that, changing things without asking if Harry minded, and every time he would just let it go and not complain. But tonight he had been planning on watching the Sweden v England match with Neville, and now Draco had made ‘other plans’. He slammed the lid back onto the box, scrambled to his feet and planting his feet firmly on the ground, he folded his arms and gave a huff of annoyance. “How would you like it if I did that to you?”
Draco lowered the newspaper to the table and stared at Harry. “There’s no need to go into one of your self-righteous Gryffindor strops, Harry. There never was a meal planned for tonight.”
“What?”
“Repeating yourself again. It was a cunning plan to stop you organising anything else.” Getting to his feet, Draco walked around the table and, stopping just in front of Harry, he reached up and cupped Harry’s cheek. “And you’re not looking after Georgie either.”
“What?” This time the word was a hissed whisper, but Harry refused to lean into the touch. Draco was damn well not going to get to him.
“More of my cunning plan, love.” Draco leaned in and brushed his lip’s gently against Harry’s and even though Harry didn’t want to, he could feel his stance relax and his stiffly folded arms slowly dropped. Then Draco palmed something and pressed it against his chest.
It was an envelope.
---
Saturday
“What was in it?”
“You know what it was ... you were in on this! Asking me to look after Georgie so you and Ginny could go shopping.”
“Actually I wasn’t. Draco did ask me, but he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. He just said it was a surprise.”
“It was. The envelope had two tickets for the England match against Sweden in Cologne that night. Apparently Draco’d had them for ages and he didn’t want to tell me about them. So, once I’d got over the shock of realising I was actually going to see the match and that Draco was coming with me, he told me to go and get packed.” Harry gave a chuckle. “Only then did I realise we had to actually get to Cologne....”
---
Tuesday
“Ready?”
Harry nodded as he cast a reduction spell on his small suitcase. Draco’s case looked much bigger and he wondered just how much a person needed for twenty-four hours. “Have you packed your England shirt?”
Draco pulled a face and grimaced, but nodded as he handed Harry another envelope. “That’s money. Apparently the German Muggles use something called ‘Euros’. Gringott’s refused to get them for me so I had to change Galleons into Pounds and then go to a Muggle bank to get the Euros.”
Pulling Draco into a hug, Harry just held onto him for a moment before nipping at his earlobe and whispering a soft “Thank you.” They held each other for a moment longer before Draco pulled back.
“Come one, or we’ll be late.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet bag, which he emptied onto the kitchen table. A rather grubby pair of Muggle pennies rolled out. “Portkeys.”
Now it was Harry’s turn to pull a face. He still hated Portkeying even though it has been many years since the events at the Little Hangleton cemetery. The way Voldemort had managed to snatch both him and Cedric Diggory stood as a reminder of just how unsafe some Wizarding forms of travel could be. “Can’t we Apparate?”
Draco gave a snort. “You might be able to Apparate that far in one go, but I’d have to do it in several stints and then be too warn out to enjoy myself. Trust me, Harry.”
Harry stared into those grey eyes and finally gave a nod. “You know I do.” Reaching for one of the coins, he closed his eyes as he felt the familiar tug behind his navel.
---
Saturday
“When I finally opened my eyes I was in the most incredible hotel room with huge picture windows overlooking what I assumed must be Cologne. I remember just standing there and looking down at the river and across to a building that had to be a cathedral.”
Hermione nodded. “It’s the Dom Cathedral and the river is the Rhine. I remember going there with my parents.”
“The hotel room ... well, suite ... was huge. There was even a fireplace and a kitchen. We could have spent the entire time there. I dread to think how much it must have cost.”
With an indulgent smile, Hermione reached out and squeezed Harry’s arm. She was tempted to remind him that Draco clearly thought he was worth it, but instead she just let he carry on with his story.
“We unpacked and then went off to explore. The match didn’t start until 9pm, so we had loads of time. Draco’s parents had taken him there when he was about fifteen and we went to the Cathedral and then on to the Museum Ludwig, which was modern art.” Harry paused thoughtfully. “I’m not sure about modern art, but Draco really liked it. But the best thing was that I was in a city with 60,000 other English football fans and the atmosphere was incredible with people singing and enjoying themselves. We found somewhere for dinner and drank beer and I would have been happy with just that.”
“What about Draco? Did he enjoy it?”
Harry looked at her and winked. “Draco wore his red England shirt and drank his beer and sang and shouted during the match like the rest of us. But, he’ll deny all of that if you ask him.”
“I bet he would. But England only ended up with a draw ... two goals each against Sweden.”
“It wasn’t the best of games, and Michael Owen injured himself in the first minute, but being there, Hermione. The atmosphere was great and in the end a draw was enough to let us win our group. At least we didn’t have to play against Germany today. After the match we found a club and danced and celebrated until the early hours. By the time we got back to the hotel I was past being tired. I was happy and more than a bit drunk....”
---
Early hours of Wednesday morning
Draco sat on the plush sofa and studied Harry who was staring out of the window at the lights from the city. He felt like a tiger about to stalk his prey, because that was what he intended to do. Harry was coiled like a spring after the match and the post-match celebrations, and there was nothing Draco liked more than the feral look he’d seen in Harry’s green eyes as they’d come up in their room in the hotel lift.
He was tempted to go and join his lover, but he wanted Harry to come to him; wanted to watch Harry saunter across the room with that little sexy sway of his hips. Then Harry would probably ask how he could repay Draco for the great time they’d had.
Draco licked his lips expectantly and could feel himself harden a little. He knew what he’d suggest; that Harry wank for him right there on the rug or in the middle of the huge kingsize bed. Draco didn’t care where as long as he could watch as Harry worked himself to an orgasm. Harry would blush just a little at the suggestion and then slowly disrobe. Those green eyes would stay locked on Draco’s face throughout and just that look would be enough to make Draco hard. And then, after watching Harry come through the afterglow, he’d take Harry and lose himself in that incredible tightness and heat. He’d feel Harry clench around him and watch the little shining beads of sweat as they ran down Harry’s spin.
Afterwards he’d lick and kiss and clean away Harry’s come, because he knew he’d make his beautiful lover come again. Then they’d lay there and watch the midsummer Solstice sun as it rose over the city.
The perfect end to a perfect day.
He watched as Harry turned and padded barefoot across the room. “Today has been brilliant. How on earth am I ever going to repay you?”
---
Saturday
It had, Harry remembered, been incredible. His sex life with Draco was always really good, but sometimes it moved beyond that. It was, as Draco had once told him, a veneration and Harry was happy to have Draco worship his body in the way he wanted to worship Draco. He loved Draco and as they’d lay there in the predawn, he’d wondered what he would do if Draco ever decided to leave him.
He looked across at Hermione and realised that they’d both fallen into silence when he’d stopped telling her the story at the point he and Draco had arrived back at the hotel.
“Harry?”
He could feel tears prick at the back of his eyes as his lip quirked in a half smile. “He asked me to marry him, Hermione.”
She gave a little gasp. “And?”
“And I said yes.”
---