Lines of Love and Hate
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
8
Views:
2,015
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
8
Views:
2,015
Reviews:
7
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.
...Independant Addiction
Thanks for all the encouragement, I love it!
…Independent Addiction
Draco wasn’t sure why in the bloody hell he thought that inviting Harry Potter for a friendly game of Quiddich was a good idea.
Yeah, he had liked Potter since their last year at Hogwarts and that had been a couple of years ago. Yeah, he couldn’t stop thinking about the Boy- Who- Lived- Gone- Recluse, he added the last part out of pure amusement over the Prophet’s frustration over the lack of photos and general news of the Boy- Who- Lived. Yeah, he really, really wanted Potter. And yeah, Malfoys always got what they wanted. But that didn’t make the wait to see if Potter would actually show any less nerve- racking.
Potter had returned his owl with a simple ‘Sure,’ and Potter was notorious for keeping his word, but…
Maybe that’s what had him so nervous… the fact that Potter was coming.
A pop of apparition saved Draco from the ill- formed habit of biting at his nails and officially halted his furious mental pacing, he did have some self- control, but when he turned he had to remind himself to keep breathing.
There Potter stood in casual Quiddich gear, holding his old Firebolt in one hand. His hair was shorter, spiked, and gave Draco a view of the unmarked forehead and vivid emerald eyes, which popped out even more because of the lack of cheap black frames.
“Hey, Malfoy.”
Draco was ashamed to admit that his heart actually skipped a beat. He must have looked like an idiot standing there gaping, but Potter just cocked his head to the side and gave Draco a curious look and a small smile. And suddenly Draco could breathe again.
“Hey, Potter, ready to lose?” Emerald eyes twinkled at the challenge.
“You wish.”
‘Breathe, Draco, breathe!’
And then they shot off to the sky. After a few distracting minutes, Draco had to promptly will himself to forget about the other man’s flexibility and gracefulness in the air before he could slip easily into the challenge of playing against the other man.
They played for hours. Ducking, diving, twisting, laughing, teasing, feigning each other out until, with a shout of triumph, Draco pulled out of his Wronski Feint, that had surprisingly put him right on the tail of the snitch, and landed with the golden ball struggling weakly against his leather- covered palm.
He watched, still riding out the rush of adrenaline that always came when playing a good game of Quiddich, as Potter came to a stop in front of him and dismounted. As the other seeker turned to face him, Draco took in the emerald eyes glinting in the lowering sun on the western horizon; the wide, happy grin that was directed purely at him, the wind- tousled raven locks, and the light flush that spread across high cheekbones.
Potter stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Draco. The grin dimmed into a seductive smile as the former Gryffindor brushed a loose strand of hair behind Draco’s ear before leaning forward and letting his hot breath ghost over Draco’s ear.
“That’s only game one, Draco.” And then Draco’s heart stopped beating.
‘What happened to Mr. Independent...
...What is the feeling taking over...
...And ooh, he fell in love...'
‘Oh Merlin be damned.’
__________
Hope you enjoyed it! Review please.
…Independent Addiction
Draco wasn’t sure why in the bloody hell he thought that inviting Harry Potter for a friendly game of Quiddich was a good idea.
Yeah, he had liked Potter since their last year at Hogwarts and that had been a couple of years ago. Yeah, he couldn’t stop thinking about the Boy- Who- Lived- Gone- Recluse, he added the last part out of pure amusement over the Prophet’s frustration over the lack of photos and general news of the Boy- Who- Lived. Yeah, he really, really wanted Potter. And yeah, Malfoys always got what they wanted. But that didn’t make the wait to see if Potter would actually show any less nerve- racking.
Potter had returned his owl with a simple ‘Sure,’ and Potter was notorious for keeping his word, but…
Maybe that’s what had him so nervous… the fact that Potter was coming.
A pop of apparition saved Draco from the ill- formed habit of biting at his nails and officially halted his furious mental pacing, he did have some self- control, but when he turned he had to remind himself to keep breathing.
There Potter stood in casual Quiddich gear, holding his old Firebolt in one hand. His hair was shorter, spiked, and gave Draco a view of the unmarked forehead and vivid emerald eyes, which popped out even more because of the lack of cheap black frames.
“Hey, Malfoy.”
Draco was ashamed to admit that his heart actually skipped a beat. He must have looked like an idiot standing there gaping, but Potter just cocked his head to the side and gave Draco a curious look and a small smile. And suddenly Draco could breathe again.
“Hey, Potter, ready to lose?” Emerald eyes twinkled at the challenge.
“You wish.”
‘Breathe, Draco, breathe!’
And then they shot off to the sky. After a few distracting minutes, Draco had to promptly will himself to forget about the other man’s flexibility and gracefulness in the air before he could slip easily into the challenge of playing against the other man.
They played for hours. Ducking, diving, twisting, laughing, teasing, feigning each other out until, with a shout of triumph, Draco pulled out of his Wronski Feint, that had surprisingly put him right on the tail of the snitch, and landed with the golden ball struggling weakly against his leather- covered palm.
He watched, still riding out the rush of adrenaline that always came when playing a good game of Quiddich, as Potter came to a stop in front of him and dismounted. As the other seeker turned to face him, Draco took in the emerald eyes glinting in the lowering sun on the western horizon; the wide, happy grin that was directed purely at him, the wind- tousled raven locks, and the light flush that spread across high cheekbones.
Potter stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Draco. The grin dimmed into a seductive smile as the former Gryffindor brushed a loose strand of hair behind Draco’s ear before leaning forward and letting his hot breath ghost over Draco’s ear.
“That’s only game one, Draco.” And then Draco’s heart stopped beating.
‘What happened to Mr. Independent...
...What is the feeling taking over...
...And ooh, he fell in love...'
‘Oh Merlin be damned.’
__________
Hope you enjoyed it! Review please.