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Wild
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,448
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,448
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Dinner and the List
Chapter 2:
A/N: First of all I would like to say a big thanks to all those that reviewed! As normal, you are the reason this is getting updated so soon…
Still looking for some help on the formatting; anyone know how to get bold and italics to show up through the text editing format?
Disclaimer: I still own nothing… but the plot…
Anyway, here we go:
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Potter…”
“Potter!”
“…POTTER!”
“Bloody hell! WHAT do you want, Malfoy?!”
“I’m hungry,” came the petulant reply.
“Good for you.” Said Harry before continuing to rummage in his tramping bag.
“Potter,” began Malfoy condescendingly, “did you not hear me correctly? I said…
I’m. Hungry.”
“So go make yourself something,” replied Harry not even sparing him a glance.
“Potter, are you daft? Why the bleeding hell should I go do something as plebeian as cook? That’s what YOU are here for after all…”
“Oh, go fuck yourself Malfoy,” spat Harry, finally looking up from his place on the bottom bunker (Of course, being a Malfoy, he was automatically granted access to the top bunk, thus leaving Harry with the dingy bottom one) “I am not, nor shall I ever be a bloody slave to you; you want food, go out and bloody well get it yourself!” finished Harry yelling.
“Oh and how exactly am I meant to do that, Oh Wise One? You seem to know a lot about being holed up in a rat’s arse…”
“We’re not in a fucking ‘rat’s arse’ as you put it Malfoy, we’re in the middle of the bush and we are here for the rest of the bloody week so unless you want to starve, go and figure out how to cook the muggle way.”
“nvckmglwy…”
“What was that, Malfoy?”
“I said, you great big fuckwit, I’ve never cooked anything the muggle way before!”
“Why am I not surprised?” snorted Harry, “Come here then…”
“Where?” asked Malfoy, peering at him suspiciously,
“To the shelter outside you moron”
“Oh…”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Potter, how the fuck do you work this?” grunted Malfoy, trying unsuccessfully to light a match.
Unfortunately, Harry was not much of a help in that department either; both struggled furiously to light the said match as sunset was looming ever closer and both were by now extremely hungry from their long hike up to the lodge they were currently staying in.
Many broken matches later, the gas cooker was finally alight.
“Now what?” said Malfoy, wearily glancing at the flame as if it might dare to die any second and shivering from the outdoor breezes.
“Uh… now we put the billy on the flame… but where’s the… Oh! Here it is… no but… that can’t… but what if… oh wow…”
“Potter!” snapped Malfoy, “Stop your bloody ramblings and cook something!”
“Yeah, yeah Malfoy! Keep your pants on!” murmured Harry distractedly, reading the instructions on the instant meal they were trying to make. The key word being ‘trying’.
As a quirked eyebrow was Harry’s only response, he remembered his last words and flushed.
“Didn’t know you had any interest in my pants, Potter…” smirked Malfoy.
“Oh, shut up. It’s just a saying…” mumbled Harry, blushing profusely now.
“Ok, so it says that all we have to do is boil the bag in a pot for 15-20 minutes and then… it’s done… hm… I could probably make this at home then… looks easy enough… Okay, here goes” said Harry, dumping the bag into the pot of boiling water on the gas cooker.
“Now all we have to do is wait…”
As it turned out, ‘waiting’ was a far more tedious task than it sounded...
“I’m hungry,” complained Malfoy
“Yeah, I realise that! So am I!”
“I’m cold,”
“That’s your own bloody fault that you packed those clothes.”
“Well how was I supposed to know that the weather called for us to dress like bloody 13th century snowmen? How many bloody layers do you have on?!”
“Urgh! Never mind that… Look, there has got to be something else for us to do up here for five whole days! If I’ve only got you to keep me occupied, I’ll go barmy!... and don’t even say it, Malfoy!” snarled Harry
It was then that Harry decided the ‘I’m-so-innocent’ look did not suit the blond devil one bit.
“Well I think the old codger left us a list…” said Malfoy finally, now rummaging in Harry’s bag.
“What the hell makes you thing it’d be in my bag?!” yelped Harry
“Well, obviously, he wouldn’t have put any extra weight in my pack… I’m made for 5-star hotels and quality magical limousines! I am not, on the other hand, made for climbing through mud and trees only to land at some god-forsaken cabin and have to cook some ‘instant’ crap in a pot!” finished Malfoy, now yelling as he realised the absolute injustice that was his life.
“Yeah, well, don’t take it out on me!” said Harry, looking faintly alarmed at the look in the blond’s eyes, “It’s just a list…”
And sure enough, at the bottom of Harry’s pack, lay a small crumpled list that, was the parchment alive, they were sure would be twinkling at them.
“Alright, we’ve still got 15 minutes so here goes,” mumbled Harry scanning the list. However as his eyes travelled the paper, they got wider and more alarmed.
“What?! I’m not answering these!” said Harry finally; staring at the paper as though it had personally offended him.
“Give me that” said Malfoy, snatching the list from him and reading through it.
1. What was your favourite present?
2. What is your favourite colour?
3. What is your animagus form? Explain.
4. When did you last have sexual intercourse?
5. Sexual Orientation?
6. Describe your three closest friends.
7. At what age did you lose your virginity and to whom?
8. What is your favourite hobby?
And so the list continued until a note down the bottom caught both their eyes.
p.s. Boys, this parchment is charmed to know if you have truthfully answered a question. If not all tasks have been done by the time your five days are up, you will be coming back again.
Albus
Over the bubbling pot and rustling of the bush in the background, a loud, collective groan was heard from the only two occupants the cabin had seen in years.
A/N: There we go, figured out that they are tramping in the bush! Reason: I found out the hard way while doing a tramp with some of the college girls that, even if you really don’t like someone, chances are that while you’re in the bush, starving, dirty, tired and lonely, you are bound to get along with them, if not only for the sake of keeping peace, but so you aren’t quite so frustrated. So, Harry, Draco, Bush, 5 days; you do the math…
Please Review!
A/N: First of all I would like to say a big thanks to all those that reviewed! As normal, you are the reason this is getting updated so soon…
Still looking for some help on the formatting; anyone know how to get bold and italics to show up through the text editing format?
Disclaimer: I still own nothing… but the plot…
Anyway, here we go:
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Potter…”
“Potter!”
“…POTTER!”
“Bloody hell! WHAT do you want, Malfoy?!”
“I’m hungry,” came the petulant reply.
“Good for you.” Said Harry before continuing to rummage in his tramping bag.
“Potter,” began Malfoy condescendingly, “did you not hear me correctly? I said…
I’m. Hungry.”
“So go make yourself something,” replied Harry not even sparing him a glance.
“Potter, are you daft? Why the bleeding hell should I go do something as plebeian as cook? That’s what YOU are here for after all…”
“Oh, go fuck yourself Malfoy,” spat Harry, finally looking up from his place on the bottom bunker (Of course, being a Malfoy, he was automatically granted access to the top bunk, thus leaving Harry with the dingy bottom one) “I am not, nor shall I ever be a bloody slave to you; you want food, go out and bloody well get it yourself!” finished Harry yelling.
“Oh and how exactly am I meant to do that, Oh Wise One? You seem to know a lot about being holed up in a rat’s arse…”
“We’re not in a fucking ‘rat’s arse’ as you put it Malfoy, we’re in the middle of the bush and we are here for the rest of the bloody week so unless you want to starve, go and figure out how to cook the muggle way.”
“nvckmglwy…”
“What was that, Malfoy?”
“I said, you great big fuckwit, I’ve never cooked anything the muggle way before!”
“Why am I not surprised?” snorted Harry, “Come here then…”
“Where?” asked Malfoy, peering at him suspiciously,
“To the shelter outside you moron”
“Oh…”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Potter, how the fuck do you work this?” grunted Malfoy, trying unsuccessfully to light a match.
Unfortunately, Harry was not much of a help in that department either; both struggled furiously to light the said match as sunset was looming ever closer and both were by now extremely hungry from their long hike up to the lodge they were currently staying in.
Many broken matches later, the gas cooker was finally alight.
“Now what?” said Malfoy, wearily glancing at the flame as if it might dare to die any second and shivering from the outdoor breezes.
“Uh… now we put the billy on the flame… but where’s the… Oh! Here it is… no but… that can’t… but what if… oh wow…”
“Potter!” snapped Malfoy, “Stop your bloody ramblings and cook something!”
“Yeah, yeah Malfoy! Keep your pants on!” murmured Harry distractedly, reading the instructions on the instant meal they were trying to make. The key word being ‘trying’.
As a quirked eyebrow was Harry’s only response, he remembered his last words and flushed.
“Didn’t know you had any interest in my pants, Potter…” smirked Malfoy.
“Oh, shut up. It’s just a saying…” mumbled Harry, blushing profusely now.
“Ok, so it says that all we have to do is boil the bag in a pot for 15-20 minutes and then… it’s done… hm… I could probably make this at home then… looks easy enough… Okay, here goes” said Harry, dumping the bag into the pot of boiling water on the gas cooker.
“Now all we have to do is wait…”
As it turned out, ‘waiting’ was a far more tedious task than it sounded...
“I’m hungry,” complained Malfoy
“Yeah, I realise that! So am I!”
“I’m cold,”
“That’s your own bloody fault that you packed those clothes.”
“Well how was I supposed to know that the weather called for us to dress like bloody 13th century snowmen? How many bloody layers do you have on?!”
“Urgh! Never mind that… Look, there has got to be something else for us to do up here for five whole days! If I’ve only got you to keep me occupied, I’ll go barmy!... and don’t even say it, Malfoy!” snarled Harry
It was then that Harry decided the ‘I’m-so-innocent’ look did not suit the blond devil one bit.
“Well I think the old codger left us a list…” said Malfoy finally, now rummaging in Harry’s bag.
“What the hell makes you thing it’d be in my bag?!” yelped Harry
“Well, obviously, he wouldn’t have put any extra weight in my pack… I’m made for 5-star hotels and quality magical limousines! I am not, on the other hand, made for climbing through mud and trees only to land at some god-forsaken cabin and have to cook some ‘instant’ crap in a pot!” finished Malfoy, now yelling as he realised the absolute injustice that was his life.
“Yeah, well, don’t take it out on me!” said Harry, looking faintly alarmed at the look in the blond’s eyes, “It’s just a list…”
And sure enough, at the bottom of Harry’s pack, lay a small crumpled list that, was the parchment alive, they were sure would be twinkling at them.
“Alright, we’ve still got 15 minutes so here goes,” mumbled Harry scanning the list. However as his eyes travelled the paper, they got wider and more alarmed.
“What?! I’m not answering these!” said Harry finally; staring at the paper as though it had personally offended him.
“Give me that” said Malfoy, snatching the list from him and reading through it.
1. What was your favourite present?
2. What is your favourite colour?
3. What is your animagus form? Explain.
4. When did you last have sexual intercourse?
5. Sexual Orientation?
6. Describe your three closest friends.
7. At what age did you lose your virginity and to whom?
8. What is your favourite hobby?
And so the list continued until a note down the bottom caught both their eyes.
p.s. Boys, this parchment is charmed to know if you have truthfully answered a question. If not all tasks have been done by the time your five days are up, you will be coming back again.
Albus
Over the bubbling pot and rustling of the bush in the background, a loud, collective groan was heard from the only two occupants the cabin had seen in years.
A/N: There we go, figured out that they are tramping in the bush! Reason: I found out the hard way while doing a tramp with some of the college girls that, even if you really don’t like someone, chances are that while you’re in the bush, starving, dirty, tired and lonely, you are bound to get along with them, if not only for the sake of keeping peace, but so you aren’t quite so frustrated. So, Harry, Draco, Bush, 5 days; you do the math…
Please Review!