not your typical annihilatrix (furiosity) wrote,
not your typical annihilatrix
furiosity

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Queerditch drabbles


Harry/Pansy -- Having to retake the Apparition exam together, third time for each of them

He looks care-worn and blank as he stands there, waiting his turn. Pansy resents his presence, more than she ever had -- it's his fault Draco is missing, his fault that Hogwarts is closed. She saw his name on the rota, and its his third time taking the exam too - so much for the super-talented Gryffindor hero. Pansy has never been very good at displacement magic; what's his excuse?

She glares at him, imagining a wave of negative feelings washing him right out of existence. He must be able to sense it, because he glances up, the inquisitive look in his eyes replaced immediately by wary indifference.

"Ready to fail again, Potter?" asks Pansy through clenched teeth. Everything is his fault and yet he has green eyes like no one else's. It makes Pansy so angry: she wants to take her wand and stab out his eyes just so her heart wouldn't beat faster anymore every time he looks at her.

He shrugs. "They say third time's the charm, but look who's talking."

"I'm not the one who's supposed to save the wizarding world," sneers Pansy.

Potter's eyes widen briefly and Pansy wants them to stay that way, because it makes her feel as though he's looking at her, not reacting to something she said. Then the moment is gone and he shrugs again, turning away.

Pansy glares at the back of his head and resolves that next time, he won't dare turn away. After she's successfully passed her test, she stands off to the side and casts a charm to interfere with Potter's Apparation. Next time, she'll come as a spectator.


Remus -- Acquiring property

Remus sits with his back straight in the uncomfortable wingback chair, regretting his earlier lunch.

The portly wizard across the desk pushes his tortoise-shell spectacles up his nose with a thick, white finger as he stares down at the paperwork. "My good man, you did not tell us you were a werewolf," he says after a moment.

Something akin to panic grips Remus's insides, only it isn't panic, more like dejection and bitter resentment; he's not sure he's about to be shown the door, but he somehow knows it anyway. "I didn't realise that was germane."

The wizard pushes the papers aside and chews on his bottom lip. "Usually isn't, but the property owner's added a clause regarding werewolves and vampires. Wants it to be a children-friendly building, you understand."

"Perfectly," says Remus, the resentment real now, real and biting, so that he wants to launch himself at the man and rip his face off. He doesn't, of course -- he never would. He can't make an example of himself, can't let them pass any more laws that allow this kind of thing to happen.

He leaves the room with his shoulders hunched, and thinks he can hear the wizard mutter, "Poor bastard."


Harry/Draco -- Harry takes the Dark Mark

Despite everything that's happened, Harry looks tense, edgy even -- Draco tells himself he's imagining things. He must be. Harry lifts up his left sleeve and holds his arm out wordlessly, waiting.

"Morsmordre."

The half-wheezed, half-shrieked incantation echoes around the dungeon, sending a spider scurrying down the far wall from a shadowed corner. Draco follows its progress and does not look at Harry. The shrill laughter that follows the spell is almost enough to make Draco change his mind, but he keeps watching the spider until it disappears into another dark corner.

"Well done, my boy," says the Dark Lord after his laughter subsides.

Harry and Draco leave together as always. They walk in silence, trudge upstairs, as always. Harry fucks Draco just as always; Draco braces himself against the headboard and looks around; he can just see a bit of the Mark from this angle. It didn't change a thing.

There are times when Draco thinks about what would happen if he were to lift the Imperius Curse off Harry. Maybe one day he'll try it and see.


Hermione/Luna - First kiss

Hermione stared down at the headstone, trying not to see the name and focussing on individual letters instead. Smooth dark stroke down - there's a line. Another one beside it, parallel, there's another. One in the middle, like a broken track, waiting for a train that never comes.

There was a gust of wind -- it threw her hair in her face, coarse and smelling like sulfur. She couldn't see the headstone anymore, she couldn't see anything at all, she was choking on something colourless, there was wet warmth on her cheeks. There was a gentle arm around her shoulders, and a voice cool as water in her ear.

"Maybe next week," said Luna, steering Hermione away from the grave, down a dark-dark path set with polished stones, out of the graveyard, into the light. They stood facing the ornate wrought-iron gate for a time that was too long to tell and too short to remember.

It was the same thing every week, except today Luna didn't Disapparate five minutes later. Instead, she leant over and pressed her lips to Hermione's quickly, then pulled back and smiled -- wide and beautiful and young. "Maybe next week," she said, and finally Hermione realised that Luna has been talking about her every time.

She stood there for a long time after Luna was gone, pressing her fingers to her lips, which suddenly felt full of colour. "Maybe next week," she said to the wind, and Disapparated.


Blaise/Draco - Slytherin dormitories, first time

"Zabini, if you don't hurry up, I'm going by myself."

Blaise rolled his eyes and bent over his trunk, muttering. His robes stretched across his arse and suddenly Draco found he could not look away, could not just stand there. It was one time too many, really. He was just inches away and all he wanted was to take that step and press himself against Blaise, wanted it badly enough that it felt like all the blood in his body rushed to his cock. It was sick.

Draco's mouth was dry and hot when Blaise straighened up, holding a book in his hand. Draco took a step forward and put his hands on Blaise's sides, then pressed closer, just so. The book dropped to the floor and Blaise arched back into Draco with a hiss. "I knew it," he whispered. "Fucking knew it." He turned around and kissed Draco fiercely, without hesitation, like it was something he did every day.

Draco's brain shut down somewhere between Blaise's mouth sucking at his neck and his own fist around Blaise's cock. This would later turn out to be the best memory of his sixth year at Hogwarts.


Harry/Ron - First day of residency at #12 Grimmauld Place

"Bit weird, isn't it?" asked Ron, turning from the window. They were in the drawing room of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, waiting for Hermione to come downstairs.

"What is?" asked Harry. He saw the afternoon light catch in Ron's hair and was reminded of Ginny by a sharp pang in his chest.

"You owning this place," said Ron, walking over and sitting down on the sofa beside Harry. He leant over Harry's shoulder so that his chest was flush against Harry's back. "What is that thing?"

Harry's heart began to race at Ron's proximity, but he tried to tell himself it was because he'd just thought of Ginny, and not because Ron felt so warm. "It's... er..." he rubbed his thumb over the locket in his hand, desperately trying to distract himself. "We found it, remember? Last year..."

"What are you guys doing?" asked Hermione's voice from somewhere above them. Ron sat back against the sofa cushions and Harry blinked rapidly, registering -- regretting -- the loss of contact and wondering why.

"Just talking about this locket, Hermione," he said, not looking at Ron.
Tags: fic:character:hp:lupin, fic:fandom:hp, fic:length:drabble, fic:pairing:draco/blaise, fic:pairing:harry/draco, fic:pairing:harry/pansy, fic:pairing:harry/ron, fic:pairing:hermione/luna, fic:post-hbp
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