Wishlists: He Doesn't Know Why (Harry/Tracey)
Author: phil_urich
Recipient: bk03
Title: He Doesn’t Know Why
Pairing: Harry/Tracey
Request: Cloak and Dagger
Rating: PG
Word Count: 850
Summary: Excerpts from various meetings between Harry Potter and Tracey Davis.
Author's Notes: I really had fun writing this one. Not sure if this is quite where you were going with the prompt bk03, but I hope you enjoy it either way.
Harry could not quite figure out why he had done it, only that it had seemed like a bright idea at the time. Perhaps he felt a bond with a girl who was walking around the castle after hours or maybe he just liked that rush of adrenaline he got whenever he did something heroic. Either way, he saw something that needed doing, that thing namely being a girl who was on the verge of being caught out late by Filch, and had swept in with his invisible cloak, swallowing the girl up in its protective charms.
He had not expected the girl to be holding a knife or that she might possibly place the pointy end of said knife to his chest, just between his third and fourth rib.
“Filch is coming,” he said in a hurried whisper.
The knife stayed in place, while the girl’s free hand was placed on his shoulder. She said nothing, not even after Filch’s steps had long gone by.
“I’m going to remove the cloak now.”
“Fine, but don’t try anything,” the girl whispered. “I’ve already hexed one boy tonight…”
Harry slowly opened his cloak, blinking as the bright candle light reflected off his glasses. He had not gotten a clear look at the girl before, but now he could see she had curly blonde hair and mint green eyes, which were red around the edges. He suddenly felt very awkward.
“Well go on then. I assure you I’ll repay the favor one day,” the girl said as she slipped the knife back into the folds of her robes.
“Are you OK?”
“Just go, Potter,” she said in exasperation.
Harry shook his head and walked away. Female Slytherins were never easy to read.
*****
“Now?” she asks him.
“No,” he replies with a shake of his head, though the shake is more of a means of clearing the drops of sweat making their way towards his eyes, than added emphasis to his ‘no’.
He glances at the picture frame. It still looks crooked.
“It’s fine, Harry.”
“No, I think it’s off to the right.”
“That’s because you’ve bent your head,” she retorts impatiently. “This is how it’s going to go.”
“You can’t do that. I’m the customer.”
“I most certainly can,” Tracey says without batting an eye as she places a sticking charm on the frame. “As your decorator I get the final say. It says so in our contract. It’s why you got a discount.”
“I thought that I got a discount because I saved you from detention with Filch.”
“That was repayed, Harry. Remember?”
“Fine.”
“Excellent, let’s move on,” she says and she makes her way to the kitchen.
****
“You shop here?” He recognizes the voice without having to turn around to see who it is. It’s in the way she says ‘here’. It sounds like ‘Here’, capitalized, because he knows from experience that when she talks about places she only talks about her favorites, whether they be her favorite place to vacation or her favorite place to visit or, in this case, her favorite place to shop.
“Yes. You suggested it remember?” he replies as he reaches for another tomato.
“Hmm, Roma Tomatoes. What are we making with them?” Tracey asks as she picks up a small zucchini and places it in her basket.
“Erm, tomato sauce for a dinner party.” He really has no idea what he is making with them. He just knew he should probably have something that wasn‘t meat or a carbohydrate of some sort at his dinner party and so he was buying tomatoes.
“That sounds nice,” Tracey says as she starts to further the distance between them. Her focus is now on mushrooms, which is three bins down from him. “I hope it goes well.”
“Do you want to come? I’ve only got four coming and I think there’s a rule about having even numbers amongst the host and guests and so I would need an extra person or something…” he trails off there because he’s honestly never heard of such a rule. It just seemed like a good excuse for inviting her. The best he could come up with on short notice anyways.
She crinkles her eyes in thought and for just a moment he starts to panic. “What day?”
“Next Saturday. Five.”
“I’ll see you then, Harry,” she says with a small smile and then leaves.
He’s not in love with her, not infatuated. He doesn’t dream of her or write awful poetry about her. There’s even times where he goes a day or three without thinking about her even once. He’s beginning to like that smile though and the way she never seems to require him to be anything more than a twenty-five year old man just trying to quietly live his life.
*****
Ron and Hermione are the first to leave, followed by Neville, then Luna. Till there’s only Tracey left.
“I should go, Harry,” Tracey says as she stands to gather her things. A part of him is just a little disappointed. He had hoped they would get some time to talk alone, but it is nearing midnight, so he walks her to the door and is completely surprised when she turns and kisses him.
It’s nice, her lips don’t fit perfectly to his, but with some minor adjustments from the two of them it works quite well.
She pulls back, leaving him wanting and he wonders if this is how infatuation begins. Her hair is mussed, but she doesn’t seem to care. “I like you, Harry.”
“I like you too.” It sounds childish to his ears, but he has never been one for metaphors or poetry or anything more than the simple truth.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Where?”
She smiles that smile of hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says again and then apparates away.
Recipient: bk03
Title: He Doesn’t Know Why
Pairing: Harry/Tracey
Request: Cloak and Dagger
Rating: PG
Word Count: 850
Summary: Excerpts from various meetings between Harry Potter and Tracey Davis.
Author's Notes: I really had fun writing this one. Not sure if this is quite where you were going with the prompt bk03, but I hope you enjoy it either way.
Harry could not quite figure out why he had done it, only that it had seemed like a bright idea at the time. Perhaps he felt a bond with a girl who was walking around the castle after hours or maybe he just liked that rush of adrenaline he got whenever he did something heroic. Either way, he saw something that needed doing, that thing namely being a girl who was on the verge of being caught out late by Filch, and had swept in with his invisible cloak, swallowing the girl up in its protective charms.
He had not expected the girl to be holding a knife or that she might possibly place the pointy end of said knife to his chest, just between his third and fourth rib.
“Filch is coming,” he said in a hurried whisper.
The knife stayed in place, while the girl’s free hand was placed on his shoulder. She said nothing, not even after Filch’s steps had long gone by.
“I’m going to remove the cloak now.”
“Fine, but don’t try anything,” the girl whispered. “I’ve already hexed one boy tonight…”
Harry slowly opened his cloak, blinking as the bright candle light reflected off his glasses. He had not gotten a clear look at the girl before, but now he could see she had curly blonde hair and mint green eyes, which were red around the edges. He suddenly felt very awkward.
“Well go on then. I assure you I’ll repay the favor one day,” the girl said as she slipped the knife back into the folds of her robes.
“Are you OK?”
“Just go, Potter,” she said in exasperation.
Harry shook his head and walked away. Female Slytherins were never easy to read.
*****
“Now?” she asks him.
“No,” he replies with a shake of his head, though the shake is more of a means of clearing the drops of sweat making their way towards his eyes, than added emphasis to his ‘no’.
He glances at the picture frame. It still looks crooked.
“It’s fine, Harry.”
“No, I think it’s off to the right.”
“That’s because you’ve bent your head,” she retorts impatiently. “This is how it’s going to go.”
“You can’t do that. I’m the customer.”
“I most certainly can,” Tracey says without batting an eye as she places a sticking charm on the frame. “As your decorator I get the final say. It says so in our contract. It’s why you got a discount.”
“I thought that I got a discount because I saved you from detention with Filch.”
“That was repayed, Harry. Remember?”
“Fine.”
“Excellent, let’s move on,” she says and she makes her way to the kitchen.
****
“You shop here?” He recognizes the voice without having to turn around to see who it is. It’s in the way she says ‘here’. It sounds like ‘Here’, capitalized, because he knows from experience that when she talks about places she only talks about her favorites, whether they be her favorite place to vacation or her favorite place to visit or, in this case, her favorite place to shop.
“Yes. You suggested it remember?” he replies as he reaches for another tomato.
“Hmm, Roma Tomatoes. What are we making with them?” Tracey asks as she picks up a small zucchini and places it in her basket.
“Erm, tomato sauce for a dinner party.” He really has no idea what he is making with them. He just knew he should probably have something that wasn‘t meat or a carbohydrate of some sort at his dinner party and so he was buying tomatoes.
“That sounds nice,” Tracey says as she starts to further the distance between them. Her focus is now on mushrooms, which is three bins down from him. “I hope it goes well.”
“Do you want to come? I’ve only got four coming and I think there’s a rule about having even numbers amongst the host and guests and so I would need an extra person or something…” he trails off there because he’s honestly never heard of such a rule. It just seemed like a good excuse for inviting her. The best he could come up with on short notice anyways.
She crinkles her eyes in thought and for just a moment he starts to panic. “What day?”
“Next Saturday. Five.”
“I’ll see you then, Harry,” she says with a small smile and then leaves.
He’s not in love with her, not infatuated. He doesn’t dream of her or write awful poetry about her. There’s even times where he goes a day or three without thinking about her even once. He’s beginning to like that smile though and the way she never seems to require him to be anything more than a twenty-five year old man just trying to quietly live his life.
*****
Ron and Hermione are the first to leave, followed by Neville, then Luna. Till there’s only Tracey left.
“I should go, Harry,” Tracey says as she stands to gather her things. A part of him is just a little disappointed. He had hoped they would get some time to talk alone, but it is nearing midnight, so he walks her to the door and is completely surprised when she turns and kisses him.
It’s nice, her lips don’t fit perfectly to his, but with some minor adjustments from the two of them it works quite well.
She pulls back, leaving him wanting and he wonders if this is how infatuation begins. Her hair is mussed, but she doesn’t seem to care. “I like you, Harry.”
“I like you too.” It sounds childish to his ears, but he has never been one for metaphors or poetry or anything more than the simple truth.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Where?”
She smiles that smile of hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says again and then apparates away.