A Single Act: G
Title: A Single Act
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,130
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, Bloomsbury, etc etc.
Summary: Draco gets caught in the rain and only a Gryffindor can really be relied on to help him out. For Jae's April prompt, It can't rain all the time and my 100quills Fleeting prompt (prompt table here)
An arch of the back was an action usually reserved for stretching when particularly tired, but tumbling along the street as quickly as he could manage, the young man's back arched of its own accord as slivers of cold rain trickled down the back of his collar. Keeping his head down, all that he could see was the reaction of water spraying downwards and then splattering back upwards off the sea of greyness that stretched out into a pavement before him.
There was a moment of hesitation only, before the head ducked, turned and sloppily tumbled back the way it had come, trailing water off the once pristine shoes. The young man paused in front of a house and raised a hand, once more startled at something that he expected to be holding and was not, before pounding on the door with the side of a pale fist. He wiped his water-beaded hand on his moist cloak. The door opened with a startled cry. "Malfoy!"
He pressed his way in before he was invited. Only now did the bent shoulders uncoil, to reveal that the man was at least half a foot taller than when first seen. White hair glowed with a slickness that felt more clammy than smooth as he brushed it back, letting more water drip down his back. His back arched again, but the water didn't get very far; his clothes were sticking to him now. As he regained composure one wet moment at a time, his host simply stared at him.
"Hello, Potter," When the blond finally spoke, his voice was a little breathier than usual from the rain, and more sure of itself than the last time that they had spoken. "I wasn't meaning to give you a social call, especially not without calling ahead, but I got caught in the blasted rain and you were nearby and likely to help." He stood, dripping on the Welcome mat.
The other man merely raised an eyebrow, and tipped his head in the general direction of warmth. As they entered the cosy living room they were greeted by a warm fire, the roaring, cheery kind that one would roast chestnuts over in a pine house in winter, had one a pine house. "What can I get you, Malfoy?" There was perhaps the barest hint of amusement in Harry Potter's voice, as his nemesis of many years sat crumpled and dripping over his favourite armchair like a pouting, half-drowned cat.
The wet man looked up from his little wet patch on the squishy chair, a sulk still evident across his lips. "A towel and an umbrella would be helpful, but the service of your wand would be more so." At the little twitch of an eyebrow that Harry failed to hide, Draco Malfoy sniffed in as dignified a manner as a drenched rat possibly could. "Stop being so torrid, Potter. You know I'm under wand probation for a year. If you could dry me out and get me home, that would be lovely."
The dark-haired man nodded as though in agreement, although he admitted to himself that he had forgotten about the wand probation. The entire Malfoy family had submitted to many interrogations and penalties from the Ministry, although there had been leniency given for any actual incarceration, and one of them was that their wands had been suspended for however long it took for the Ministry to entirely piece together what they had done and the extent of their actions. "You're really not very used to going out without your wand, are you?" He remarked, "It's been really grey all day. Although not being able to Apparate all the time isn't too bad. It can't rain all the time."
The look that the blond sent him might well have speared the other on the end of it, had he not been relying on Potter to help him. "You c-could spare the lecture a-and just dry me out." The intentioned coldness was forced, and ruined by his teeth chattering anyway; Harry immediately felt slightly guilty.
Pulling his wand out of his side pocket, the young man concentrated, and in barely a moment, Draco felt himself surrounded in warmth; his robes steamed just a little. Leaving the armchair with a damp patch, the young man stood with legs apart and arms outstretched in front of the fire, just for the warmth. He knew, in that fuzzy haze of sudden pleasure, that if the other man had come to him, he would not have done the same thing; he bit his lip lightly. "Thanks. I owe you, Potter."
"It's nothing." Potter watched oddly for just a moment, before turning. "Hang on, I'll get you something warm to drink," the man disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, leaving Draco to dry out his damp skin and rearrange his hair now that it wasn't plastered to his skull.
"You could just show me where your Floo powder is and I'll be gone before your water boils," the blond called out of the room, not entirely sure in which direction he was supposed to be aiming in.
A voice wafted out from his left, "I'm not connected up to the Floo." Potter re-entered just then, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. "I had too many people ending up here after they tried to Floo call me just to see if they could get into my house, or Apparating in or Splinched, and so on." He shuddered slightly. "Anyhow, the only magical way to get into this house is to Apparate outside and then knock." Draco winced at the thought of going into the rain again, and Harry smiled a little more into his chocolate. "Don't worry, I can Side-Apparate with you on the covered porch. That's why you should get warm first. If you're too cold and miserable, we might get Splinched."
Draco rose from where he had been almost inhaling the warm drink; the other man hid the growing smile at the foam moustache. "You thought it all through. How... chivalrous." His voice was strangely neutral where the word 'chivalrous' had been cause for a sneer in years past. He set down his mug. "Whenever you're ready."
It didn't take long for them to get ready, Draco now snug in his previously soaked clothes. They stepped outside, and the blond grimaced at the rain. He would definitely remember to bring an umbrella along with him anyway, whether he had his wand or not, or at least a cloak charmed for water protection. "I'm not very good at this," Harry admitted, "so you probably need to hold on a bit more than usual." Malfoy rolled his eyes, but wrapped his arm around the other man's waist anyway. "Right, perfect.
"Cuddle tight, Malfoy."
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,130
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, Bloomsbury, etc etc.
Summary: Draco gets caught in the rain and only a Gryffindor can really be relied on to help him out. For Jae's April prompt, It can't rain all the time and my 100quills Fleeting prompt (prompt table here)
An arch of the back was an action usually reserved for stretching when particularly tired, but tumbling along the street as quickly as he could manage, the young man's back arched of its own accord as slivers of cold rain trickled down the back of his collar. Keeping his head down, all that he could see was the reaction of water spraying downwards and then splattering back upwards off the sea of greyness that stretched out into a pavement before him.
There was a moment of hesitation only, before the head ducked, turned and sloppily tumbled back the way it had come, trailing water off the once pristine shoes. The young man paused in front of a house and raised a hand, once more startled at something that he expected to be holding and was not, before pounding on the door with the side of a pale fist. He wiped his water-beaded hand on his moist cloak. The door opened with a startled cry. "Malfoy!"
He pressed his way in before he was invited. Only now did the bent shoulders uncoil, to reveal that the man was at least half a foot taller than when first seen. White hair glowed with a slickness that felt more clammy than smooth as he brushed it back, letting more water drip down his back. His back arched again, but the water didn't get very far; his clothes were sticking to him now. As he regained composure one wet moment at a time, his host simply stared at him.
"Hello, Potter," When the blond finally spoke, his voice was a little breathier than usual from the rain, and more sure of itself than the last time that they had spoken. "I wasn't meaning to give you a social call, especially not without calling ahead, but I got caught in the blasted rain and you were nearby and likely to help." He stood, dripping on the Welcome mat.
The other man merely raised an eyebrow, and tipped his head in the general direction of warmth. As they entered the cosy living room they were greeted by a warm fire, the roaring, cheery kind that one would roast chestnuts over in a pine house in winter, had one a pine house. "What can I get you, Malfoy?" There was perhaps the barest hint of amusement in Harry Potter's voice, as his nemesis of many years sat crumpled and dripping over his favourite armchair like a pouting, half-drowned cat.
The wet man looked up from his little wet patch on the squishy chair, a sulk still evident across his lips. "A towel and an umbrella would be helpful, but the service of your wand would be more so." At the little twitch of an eyebrow that Harry failed to hide, Draco Malfoy sniffed in as dignified a manner as a drenched rat possibly could. "Stop being so torrid, Potter. You know I'm under wand probation for a year. If you could dry me out and get me home, that would be lovely."
The dark-haired man nodded as though in agreement, although he admitted to himself that he had forgotten about the wand probation. The entire Malfoy family had submitted to many interrogations and penalties from the Ministry, although there had been leniency given for any actual incarceration, and one of them was that their wands had been suspended for however long it took for the Ministry to entirely piece together what they had done and the extent of their actions. "You're really not very used to going out without your wand, are you?" He remarked, "It's been really grey all day. Although not being able to Apparate all the time isn't too bad. It can't rain all the time."
The look that the blond sent him might well have speared the other on the end of it, had he not been relying on Potter to help him. "You c-could spare the lecture a-and just dry me out." The intentioned coldness was forced, and ruined by his teeth chattering anyway; Harry immediately felt slightly guilty.
Pulling his wand out of his side pocket, the young man concentrated, and in barely a moment, Draco felt himself surrounded in warmth; his robes steamed just a little. Leaving the armchair with a damp patch, the young man stood with legs apart and arms outstretched in front of the fire, just for the warmth. He knew, in that fuzzy haze of sudden pleasure, that if the other man had come to him, he would not have done the same thing; he bit his lip lightly. "Thanks. I owe you, Potter."
"It's nothing." Potter watched oddly for just a moment, before turning. "Hang on, I'll get you something warm to drink," the man disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, leaving Draco to dry out his damp skin and rearrange his hair now that it wasn't plastered to his skull.
"You could just show me where your Floo powder is and I'll be gone before your water boils," the blond called out of the room, not entirely sure in which direction he was supposed to be aiming in.
A voice wafted out from his left, "I'm not connected up to the Floo." Potter re-entered just then, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. "I had too many people ending up here after they tried to Floo call me just to see if they could get into my house, or Apparating in or Splinched, and so on." He shuddered slightly. "Anyhow, the only magical way to get into this house is to Apparate outside and then knock." Draco winced at the thought of going into the rain again, and Harry smiled a little more into his chocolate. "Don't worry, I can Side-Apparate with you on the covered porch. That's why you should get warm first. If you're too cold and miserable, we might get Splinched."
Draco rose from where he had been almost inhaling the warm drink; the other man hid the growing smile at the foam moustache. "You thought it all through. How... chivalrous." His voice was strangely neutral where the word 'chivalrous' had been cause for a sneer in years past. He set down his mug. "Whenever you're ready."
It didn't take long for them to get ready, Draco now snug in his previously soaked clothes. They stepped outside, and the blond grimaced at the rain. He would definitely remember to bring an umbrella along with him anyway, whether he had his wand or not, or at least a cloak charmed for water protection. "I'm not very good at this," Harry admitted, "so you probably need to hold on a bit more than usual." Malfoy rolled his eyes, but wrapped his arm around the other man's waist anyway. "Right, perfect.
"Cuddle tight, Malfoy."