[165] Close Your Eyes
Title: Close Your Eyes
Author:
felixfvlicis
Pairing: Harry / Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: 365
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury / Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Unbeta'd. Written for
hogwarts365's prompt 165: Tendency.
Summary: Harry's August afternoon at Diagon Alley could turn out to be more interesting than he expected.
Apart from the autumnal season, late August was Harry’s favorite time to visit Diagon Alley. Summer’s defenses were down, its warmth complacent in the bright, labored lull of day, the earth’s whispers urging autumn to sneak in through the cracks and seduce the atmosphere until it pushed summer fervently from its bed.
Harry stood in front of Olivander’s - his fingertips brushing along the outline of the glass window. A small smile formed on his lips as memories of the afternoon spent at Bill and Fleur’s occupied his mind - dancing around the questions he really wanted to ask, not for fear of the answers, but their implications - weighted, raw, stuck in the tangled web of youth.
Eventually, he sighed - pushing his glasses up so that they were sitting properly on the bridge of his nose, - and began his trek toward the Leaky.
The chiming of the door greeted Harry as he entered. He noted the room's emptiness, except for the corner table tucked in the back, occupied by Draco. His posture was rather lax, facing the window, legs propped up on the chair beside him, a book and loose parchments blanketing his lap.
Harry's never-ending need to know what Draco was up to eventually got the better of him. He approached Draco's table, half-drunk butterbeer in hand. He could feel magic flowing and popping beneath his skin, urging him onward.
"Er, hey, Dr-- Malfoy." Harry half-muttered, voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.
Draco looked up, his gray eyes piercing, daring Harry to continue. His expression caught somewhere between bewilderment and mild disdain.
"Potter," Draco acknowledged, his name escaping Draco's lips with a breathy note of resign that Harry wasn't expecting, "Should I even bother to ask what you're doing here, gaping at me?"
Surely he wasn't gaping. Though, he had a tendency to do so when it came to Draco.
"I was just coming by to . . . " To what, Harry?
". . . Say hi." he finished, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment.
It was Draco's turn to gape.
"Well," Draco began wearily, "I suppose you should sit down. I do look better up close, you know."
Author:
felixfvlicis
Pairing: Harry / Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: 365
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury / Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Unbeta'd. Written for
hogwarts365's prompt 165: Tendency.
Summary: Harry's August afternoon at Diagon Alley could turn out to be more interesting than he expected.
Apart from the autumnal season, late August was Harry’s favorite time to visit Diagon Alley. Summer’s defenses were down, its warmth complacent in the bright, labored lull of day, the earth’s whispers urging autumn to sneak in through the cracks and seduce the atmosphere until it pushed summer fervently from its bed.
Harry stood in front of Olivander’s - his fingertips brushing along the outline of the glass window. A small smile formed on his lips as memories of the afternoon spent at Bill and Fleur’s occupied his mind - dancing around the questions he really wanted to ask, not for fear of the answers, but their implications - weighted, raw, stuck in the tangled web of youth.
Eventually, he sighed - pushing his glasses up so that they were sitting properly on the bridge of his nose, - and began his trek toward the Leaky.
The chiming of the door greeted Harry as he entered. He noted the room's emptiness, except for the corner table tucked in the back, occupied by Draco. His posture was rather lax, facing the window, legs propped up on the chair beside him, a book and loose parchments blanketing his lap.
Harry's never-ending need to know what Draco was up to eventually got the better of him. He approached Draco's table, half-drunk butterbeer in hand. He could feel magic flowing and popping beneath his skin, urging him onward.
"Er, hey, Dr-- Malfoy." Harry half-muttered, voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.
Draco looked up, his gray eyes piercing, daring Harry to continue. His expression caught somewhere between bewilderment and mild disdain.
"Potter," Draco acknowledged, his name escaping Draco's lips with a breathy note of resign that Harry wasn't expecting, "Should I even bother to ask what you're doing here, gaping at me?"
Surely he wasn't gaping. Though, he had a tendency to do so when it came to Draco.
"I was just coming by to . . . " To what, Harry?
". . . Say hi." he finished, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment.
It was Draco's turn to gape.
"Well," Draco began wearily, "I suppose you should sit down. I do look better up close, you know."