(no subject)
My entry for the fic exchange!
To: froggie
From: benightedfate
I know you asked for angry!sex... but my sex writing skills are currently non-existent. So I went for the snarky thing. And failed! anddon'thatemeforthefluffieness...Icouldn'thelpit!!! *dies* I hope you enjoy this!!
Oh, and points for whomever catches the Princess Bride tribute line.
Harry was gratified to see Draco actually using his gift the day after it was given. Of course, following that thought was a vicious one that said that he should have been hoping that Draco hated it, and then mocked him about it, but Harry ignored that voice. He hadn’t been listening to it for a while, although the Malfoy heir still got on his nerves endlessly. Harry figured that he’d be the bigger man about their rivalry.
A resolution that usually lasted all of a minute when Draco took to his usual unfriendly banter.
It was their seventh year, and Harry really wanted to just put the fighting with Draco behind him, and perhaps start acting a little more like an adult, but Draco just didn’t get the hint. Or perhaps he just didn’t like being ignored. Either one was a plausible explanation.
In celebration of the holiday season, Dumbledore had organized a secret santa gift exchange, to be carried out the week before the break began. They would be given time to get to know the person they were assigned, in secret, and then the Thursday before the holidays gifts would be exchanged. They would be given the choice whether or not to reveal themselves to the person they gave their gift to, and then there would be a feast after the final exams of the day on Friday.
Harry had opted not to tell Draco that in a fit of karmic vengeance, he had been assigned to get him a gift. He figured that Draco would be less than thrilled to find out that his gift had been given to him by his “mortal rival” and would do something to destroy it, just to spite Harry. Harry didn’t want that to happen, he had spent a fair amount of money on the gift and didn’t want to see it go to waste - at least that was what he told himself.
Harry watched as Draco packed his gift carefully into his bookbag after the last class before the New Year and almost smiled, pleased. In the few days before the actual exchanged, Harry learned that Draco had a mostly-secret passion for calligraphy, and so had purchased the finest calligraphic quill he could find. Because Draco Malfoy wouldn’t accept anything but the best.
“What are you staring at, Potter?”
Harry jumped; surprised to find that he had been daydreaming and that Draco had stopped right in front of him on his way out of the classroom to stare down at him.
“Nothing, Malfoy. Obviously,” Harry replied, bending over quickly to get his things and leave before this altercation had the chance to turn into an all-out brawl.
“I saw what you were looking at,” Draco declared in triumph.
“Well then why’d you ask the question?” Harry returned.
“You were staring at the gift I was given by my secret santa,” Draco continued, as if Harry hadn’t spoken.
“What? No I wasn’t!” Harry denied, mortified that he’d been caught.
“Yes you were. And you’re jealous!” Draco’s smirk was getting to be insufferable, and Harry could feel himself rapidly losing his cool. He cursed his short temper for the thousandth time that year, and tried to make a quick escape. But before he could depart completely, he couldn’t resist rebutting.
“It’s just a stupid quill, Malfoy? Who would be jealous of that?”
“What?” Draco spluttered incredulously. “Have you no eyes?” He paused a moment, then snickered at his unintended joke opening. “Oh, but of course you must be impaired severely in that area. Unless you simply wear those specs to garner more attention and sympathy.”
Harry almost rose to the bait, but was proud of himself when he kept control.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Malfoy. Now go and play with your feather.” Harry left the classroom and started to walk quickly down the hall, hoping that that would be the end of that little tete a tete. Alas, it wouldn’t be, though. Draco followed him out and called after him.
“It’s not just a feather, you imbecile! It’s a high-quality calligraphy quill! Probably cost a pretty Sickle for whoever is my secret santa. Obviously they have an impeccable eye. And you’re jealous that your secret santa didn’t get you something this nice.”
“I’m perfectly content with what I received, thank you,” Harry replied through gritted teeth. Draco just sneered knowingly.
“You envy my present, and you envy the gift giver because you could never have good taste. You wouldn’t know good taste if it walked up and bit you in the balls!”
Harry considered getting mad, but the things that Draco was saying struck him as ridiculously funny, so he laughed instead.
“That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Malfoy!” he managed between laughs. Draco scowled at him.
“It’s not stupid, it’s the truth! You have thinly-veiled envy all over your stupid face.”
“I… whatever you say,” Harry said as the laughter died down. Giving Draco his best careless shrug, he adjusted his bookbag on his shoulder and started walking away again. Before he turned a corner, he looked back over his shoulder and smirked. “Oh, and Malfoy? I was your secret santa. Merry Christmas.” He figured that then was as good a time as any to reveal that, and hoped that the shock would be enough to render Draco silent for at least a few minutes. Enough time to make his getaway and congratulate himself on keeping his cool.
He should have known that nothing is ever that easy with Draco Malfoy. Not seconds later, he heard the sound of footsteps pounding down the corridor after him. Harry tried ignoring him and kept walking, but Draco was determined. He felt his shoulder being grabbed in order to stop him, and so he stopped. And ended up with Draco running into his back.
“Malfoy, what the fuck?” Harry asked, exasperation in his voice. Draco glared back.
“How was I supposed to know that you would just stop?”
“Err; most people do when they feel someone grab their shoulder.”
“You’re not most people, Boy Wonder.”
“Boy Wonder? Malfoy, is there a point to all this, or do you have a word quota to fill?”
“Oh sod off, Potter.”
“That’s rich. You’re the one who stopped me. Whatever.” Harry made to leave, but was stopped. This time by Draco’s voice.
“Wait.”
Harry looked back and eyed him. “Yes?”
“Err…” Draco seemed to be at a loss for words, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “Were you really my secret santa, or were you just lying to me to get me to shut up?”
Harry snickered. “Which would you rather it be?” Draco raised an eyebrow, and Harry shrugged. “Yeah, I was your secret santa. Disappointed?” He kept his voice carefully neutral so as not to influence the reaction.
“Oh, most definitely. This skews my entire perception of you. Who knew you had taste?” Draco smirked.
Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re a git. Can I leave now?”
“You can leave after I’ve thanked you.”
“Thanked me? Malfoy, we hate each other. I’m surprised that you haven’t broken the quill, spit in my face and told me to jump in the lake.” Harry looked skeptical.
“I would sooner break a stained glass window than destroy a quill like that!” Draco declared, aghast. “And spitting is vulgar.”
Harry snorted. “Right. Okay, I’ve been thanked, I’ll be on my way.”
“Patience, Potter. Stand still and give me your hand.”
Harry looked wary, but reluctantly held it out. Draco took it and lifted it to eye level.
“Thank you for your gift, Harry Potter,” he said as he brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. Harry’s face immediately went dark red, and he hastily pulled his hand back.
“That was… random,” he said awkwardly.
“Traditional,” Draco corrected, his own face faintly pink.
“Whatever,” Harry replied. He readjusted his bag again, and turned to go. “You’re welcome, Draco Malfoy,” slipped out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to stop him. “And merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”
To: froggie
From: benightedfate
I know you asked for angry!sex... but my sex writing skills are currently non-existent. So I went for the snarky thing. And failed! anddon'thatemeforthefluffieness...Icouldn'thelpit!!! *dies* I hope you enjoy this!!
Oh, and points for whomever catches the Princess Bride tribute line.
Harry was gratified to see Draco actually using his gift the day after it was given. Of course, following that thought was a vicious one that said that he should have been hoping that Draco hated it, and then mocked him about it, but Harry ignored that voice. He hadn’t been listening to it for a while, although the Malfoy heir still got on his nerves endlessly. Harry figured that he’d be the bigger man about their rivalry.
A resolution that usually lasted all of a minute when Draco took to his usual unfriendly banter.
It was their seventh year, and Harry really wanted to just put the fighting with Draco behind him, and perhaps start acting a little more like an adult, but Draco just didn’t get the hint. Or perhaps he just didn’t like being ignored. Either one was a plausible explanation.
In celebration of the holiday season, Dumbledore had organized a secret santa gift exchange, to be carried out the week before the break began. They would be given time to get to know the person they were assigned, in secret, and then the Thursday before the holidays gifts would be exchanged. They would be given the choice whether or not to reveal themselves to the person they gave their gift to, and then there would be a feast after the final exams of the day on Friday.
Harry had opted not to tell Draco that in a fit of karmic vengeance, he had been assigned to get him a gift. He figured that Draco would be less than thrilled to find out that his gift had been given to him by his “mortal rival” and would do something to destroy it, just to spite Harry. Harry didn’t want that to happen, he had spent a fair amount of money on the gift and didn’t want to see it go to waste - at least that was what he told himself.
Harry watched as Draco packed his gift carefully into his bookbag after the last class before the New Year and almost smiled, pleased. In the few days before the actual exchanged, Harry learned that Draco had a mostly-secret passion for calligraphy, and so had purchased the finest calligraphic quill he could find. Because Draco Malfoy wouldn’t accept anything but the best.
“What are you staring at, Potter?”
Harry jumped; surprised to find that he had been daydreaming and that Draco had stopped right in front of him on his way out of the classroom to stare down at him.
“Nothing, Malfoy. Obviously,” Harry replied, bending over quickly to get his things and leave before this altercation had the chance to turn into an all-out brawl.
“I saw what you were looking at,” Draco declared in triumph.
“Well then why’d you ask the question?” Harry returned.
“You were staring at the gift I was given by my secret santa,” Draco continued, as if Harry hadn’t spoken.
“What? No I wasn’t!” Harry denied, mortified that he’d been caught.
“Yes you were. And you’re jealous!” Draco’s smirk was getting to be insufferable, and Harry could feel himself rapidly losing his cool. He cursed his short temper for the thousandth time that year, and tried to make a quick escape. But before he could depart completely, he couldn’t resist rebutting.
“It’s just a stupid quill, Malfoy? Who would be jealous of that?”
“What?” Draco spluttered incredulously. “Have you no eyes?” He paused a moment, then snickered at his unintended joke opening. “Oh, but of course you must be impaired severely in that area. Unless you simply wear those specs to garner more attention and sympathy.”
Harry almost rose to the bait, but was proud of himself when he kept control.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Malfoy. Now go and play with your feather.” Harry left the classroom and started to walk quickly down the hall, hoping that that would be the end of that little tete a tete. Alas, it wouldn’t be, though. Draco followed him out and called after him.
“It’s not just a feather, you imbecile! It’s a high-quality calligraphy quill! Probably cost a pretty Sickle for whoever is my secret santa. Obviously they have an impeccable eye. And you’re jealous that your secret santa didn’t get you something this nice.”
“I’m perfectly content with what I received, thank you,” Harry replied through gritted teeth. Draco just sneered knowingly.
“You envy my present, and you envy the gift giver because you could never have good taste. You wouldn’t know good taste if it walked up and bit you in the balls!”
Harry considered getting mad, but the things that Draco was saying struck him as ridiculously funny, so he laughed instead.
“That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Malfoy!” he managed between laughs. Draco scowled at him.
“It’s not stupid, it’s the truth! You have thinly-veiled envy all over your stupid face.”
“I… whatever you say,” Harry said as the laughter died down. Giving Draco his best careless shrug, he adjusted his bookbag on his shoulder and started walking away again. Before he turned a corner, he looked back over his shoulder and smirked. “Oh, and Malfoy? I was your secret santa. Merry Christmas.” He figured that then was as good a time as any to reveal that, and hoped that the shock would be enough to render Draco silent for at least a few minutes. Enough time to make his getaway and congratulate himself on keeping his cool.
He should have known that nothing is ever that easy with Draco Malfoy. Not seconds later, he heard the sound of footsteps pounding down the corridor after him. Harry tried ignoring him and kept walking, but Draco was determined. He felt his shoulder being grabbed in order to stop him, and so he stopped. And ended up with Draco running into his back.
“Malfoy, what the fuck?” Harry asked, exasperation in his voice. Draco glared back.
“How was I supposed to know that you would just stop?”
“Err; most people do when they feel someone grab their shoulder.”
“You’re not most people, Boy Wonder.”
“Boy Wonder? Malfoy, is there a point to all this, or do you have a word quota to fill?”
“Oh sod off, Potter.”
“That’s rich. You’re the one who stopped me. Whatever.” Harry made to leave, but was stopped. This time by Draco’s voice.
“Wait.”
Harry looked back and eyed him. “Yes?”
“Err…” Draco seemed to be at a loss for words, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “Were you really my secret santa, or were you just lying to me to get me to shut up?”
Harry snickered. “Which would you rather it be?” Draco raised an eyebrow, and Harry shrugged. “Yeah, I was your secret santa. Disappointed?” He kept his voice carefully neutral so as not to influence the reaction.
“Oh, most definitely. This skews my entire perception of you. Who knew you had taste?” Draco smirked.
Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re a git. Can I leave now?”
“You can leave after I’ve thanked you.”
“Thanked me? Malfoy, we hate each other. I’m surprised that you haven’t broken the quill, spit in my face and told me to jump in the lake.” Harry looked skeptical.
“I would sooner break a stained glass window than destroy a quill like that!” Draco declared, aghast. “And spitting is vulgar.”
Harry snorted. “Right. Okay, I’ve been thanked, I’ll be on my way.”
“Patience, Potter. Stand still and give me your hand.”
Harry looked wary, but reluctantly held it out. Draco took it and lifted it to eye level.
“Thank you for your gift, Harry Potter,” he said as he brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. Harry’s face immediately went dark red, and he hastily pulled his hand back.
“That was… random,” he said awkwardly.
“Traditional,” Draco corrected, his own face faintly pink.
“Whatever,” Harry replied. He readjusted his bag again, and turned to go. “You’re welcome, Draco Malfoy,” slipped out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to stop him. “And merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”