Fic: Excuses, Excuses
Feb. 27th, 2018 05:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Excuses, Excuses
Author:alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy.
Word Count: ~1700
Warnings: None.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
slythindor100/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slythindor100's prompt # 214: Falling in or out of love, for hd_fluff's prompt # 143: “__for two.” , and for enchanted_jae's monthly drabble challenge # 144: Secret crush.
Beta(s):sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Excuses, Excuses
~
“In my defence, I thought this would go a lot more smoothly.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You just strolled into my office and declared you’re now, and I quote, ‘over your secret crush’. How did you think that would go?”
Malfoy, looking infuriatingly composed as he lounged in the chair across from Harry’s desk, shrugged. “It should have gone fine since you weren’t supposed to be here. The room looked empty. How was I to know you were hiding under your desk?”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Harry snapped.
Malfoy smirked. “All right. What were you doing crawling around under there, then?”
“If you must know, I’d dropped something and I was looking for it.”
“Oh, what had you dropped?” Malfoy hummed. “Do you need some help locating something?”
Harry flushed. “No, and what I was looking for is none of your business. It’s my office and it was a private item.”
Holding up his hands in a mock defensive pose, Malfoy’s smirk deepened. “Of course. It’s definitely your business, although, as Head Auror, there are certain standards of behaviour you’re expected to uphold while in the building, so, using private items here may not be the best idea—”
Private items? “Just what are you suggesting?” Harry asked.
Malfoy shrugged, the motion elegant. “Nothing at all. If the Head Auror wants to engage in salacious solitary activities in his office, who am I to criticise him?”
Harry gaped at him. “It wasn’t anything salacious…It’s wasn’t—” He scowled. “It’s nothing like that.”
“What’s it like, then?” Malfoy murmured, tone silky. “Is it something best done with…company? An activity meant for two? Or possibly more, perhaps?”
Fighting the images those words evoked, Harry fought his blush. “What are you really doing in here, Malfoy?” he bit out, trying to sound stern.
“Can’t a bloke just stop by to see the Head Auror—”
“Enough.” Harry stared at him with his best intimidating Auror stare. “I’ve seen you loitering about my office when you think no one will notice. Are you plotting something nefarious?”
Malfoy sat up straight, his former flirty expression morphing into something cold and icy. “Would it matter if I said no?” he bit out. “You seem to have already decided I’m guilty of something, Head Auror—”
“Malfoy, stop.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Harry sighed. “I’m not assuming anything, I'm asking nicely. Why have you been casing my office?”
“I haven’t been casing it.” Malfoy huffed, his stiff posture softening.
“Then what?” Harry watched him, his expression open.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you must know, I came here for advice.”
Harry blinked. “You came to me for advice?”
“I didn’t come to you, Potter!” Malfoy huffed. “I came here.”
“To my office.” Harry looked around the room. “Wait, does my office speak to you, give you advice? You do know how that sounds, right?”
“I’m not here to speak to your office, moron,” Malfoy sneered. “I’m here to speak to him.” He nodded at a spot behind Harry.
Slowly, Harry turned around and stood up to look at the painting on the wall behind him. He’d inherited it, along with all the furniture, from the immediate past Head Auror, who’d recently retired. The painting depicted a forest thick with trees, no people to be seen. He quite liked it. “From who? I don’t see anyone in there.”
“Come on out,” said Malfoy. “It’s safe, I promise.”
Frowning, Harry continued to watch the painting, blinking when a figure detached itself from a tree trunk and moved shyly forward. “Who is that?” he asked, peering at it.
“A distant relative,” said Malfoy in his ear.
Harry winced, turning his head to stare at Malfoy who was suddenly right there.
Malfoy steadied Harry. “You’re jumpy, Potter,” he murmured. “Apologies if I startled you.”
“I’m fine,” lied Harry, staring into Malfoy’s remarkable eyes. Up close they were not just grey but almost silver, with flecks of blue and green. How had Harry not noticed that before? He stepped back. “It’s…it’s fine.” What had they been discussing? Oh, right… “Why’s a portrait of your relative hanging in my office?”
Malfoy snorted. “Because he’s a creature. Father would never allow him to hang in the hall of portraits at the Manor.”
“A creature?” Harry stared at the figure, who was closer. He looked normal enough, but as Harry watched, he smiled and waved at Malfoy before stretching his…wings? “Oh!” breathed Harry.
Malfoy chuckled. “Yes, I had the same reaction the first time I saw him, too. I was five at the time, and, like a fool, I ran to my father and told him I was in love with Ambrosia and wanted to marry him. Needless to say, Father was not pleased.”
“I’m sure. Ambrosia, hm?” Harry coughed. “So how did he get here?”
Malfoy snorted. “At first, Father hid him in the Manor, in obscure hallways or rooms, but I always found him until, finally, he became exasperated and gave him away as a gift.”
“To the Head Auror at the time?”
“No, to some random Ministry worker from whom Father wanted a favour.” Malfoy sighed. “Then, somehow, he ended up here.”
Harry nodded. “And how did you discover he was here?”
Malfoy, watching Ambrosia preen and pose in the portrait, smiled. “The first day I reported to the Head Auror for my community service assignment I saw the painting and recognised it.” He sighed. “I wasn’t going to accept the assignment at first. I’d planned to tell Robards to sod off, figuring I’d end up in Azkaban with Father.”
“But then you saw Ambrosia.”
Malfoy nodded. “I took it as a sign. So instead of fighting my assignment, I did what Robards asked. I was…cooperative, pliable.” He smirked. “Well, within reason.”
“And Robards was so impressed, he ended up sponsoring your entry into the Unspeakable program.” Harry smiled when Malfoy looked surprised. “Yes, I know about that.”
“Hm.” Malfoy turned to face Harry fully, crossing his arms. “Of course you do. All you Auror types like to share information, don’t you?”
“When relevant, yes.” Harry leaned back against his desk. “So, what big decision was Ambrosia going to help you with today?”
As Malfoy hesitated, Ambrosia caught Harry’s eye. He was winking, making kissing faces, pointing at Malfoy and miming hugging him… Harry lowered his head and coughed to cover his smile.
Malfoy huffed. “To quote what you told me earlier, that’s none of your business, Potter.” He turned away to face the painting where Ambrosia, who’d been looking back and forth between them, a smirk on his face, pasted on an exaggeratedly innocent expression. “Anyway, I promise I’ll be quick, so if you’ll excuse us—”
“Who was your secret crush?” Harry interrupted.
Malfoy froze with his back to Harry. “Are you under the impression we’re suddenly friends, Potter?”
Harry snorted. “No. Trust me, I’m aware we’re not friends, nor are we likely to ever be.” When he saw Malfoy’s shoulders stiffen, he pushed off his desk moving closer. “But I think we could be something else.”
“What in Salazar’s name are you—Oh!” Malfoy turned, jumping when he realised Harry was in his personal space. “What the fu—?”
The moment their lips met, and just before he closed his eyes, Harry saw Ambrosia jumping up and down in excitement. And as Malfoy melted against him, he forgot about everything but the man in his arms.
Malfoy moulded himself to Harry, moaning into his mouth when Harry slid his thigh between Malfoy’s legs and pressed closer. He was hard, Harry could feel his erection against his leg, and it made lust spiral through Harry. He’d fancied Malfoy for so long, it seemed a dream to finally have him that close, responding to him so beautifully.
Eventually, Harry drew back to catch his breath.
Malfoy, his arms clinging to Harry’s neck, opened his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m bent, Potter,” he whispered.
Harry laughed. “Yes,” he said, “I am.”
Malfoy snorted, tossing his hair. “For all you know, I could be involved with someone else.”
Harry smirked. “Nope. You said, and I quote, that you were ‘over your secret crush’, remember?”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “That was before. Maybe I’m in love with him again.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Do you fall in and out of love so easily?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
Malfoy smirked. “On what’s under your desk. Accio!”
Harry, startled, tried to shift and block, but it was too late. Malfoy, with Seeker reflexes, easily caught the small photograph as it flew towards him. When Malfoy saw his own face staring back at him, however, he blinked.
Sighing, Harry plucked it out of his hand, tossing it onto the desk.
“You were in here staring at my picture?” Malfoy grinned. “Why, Potter, what else were you doing with it?” As Harry looked down and bit his lip, Malfoy chuckled. “Were you wanking over it? How naughty.”
Harry raised his eyes to smile at Malfoy. “I admit nothing. Although I think my…obsession with it is why Ambrosia told me to kiss you.”
Malfoy huffed. “He did what? That traitor!” Arms still around Harry’s neck, he looked back over his shoulder at Ambrosia, who was still watching them and beaming. When Malfoy glared at him and held up two fingers in a rude gesture, Ambrosia simply blew him a kiss and disappeared back into the painted forest. Turning back around, Malfoy shook his head. “Betrayed by my oldest friend.” He smirked. “I need some consoling, Auror Potter.”
“Do you?” Harry grinned. “I have just the thing.” Leaning in, he captured Malfoy’s lips in another searing kiss. After a while, they ended up on a sofa by the window. “So, do you want that painting?” Harry asked.
Malfoy, kissing his neck, raised his head to look at him for a moment. “No,” he finally said, “keep it.” He hummed. “It gives me an excuse to come up here.”
Laughing softly, Harry leaned in. “Trust me,” he whispered against Malfoy’s mouth, “you don’t need an excuse.”
~
Author:
alisanneRating: PG
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy.
Word Count: ~1700
Warnings: None.
A/N: Written for
slythindor100/slythindor100's prompt # 214: Falling in or out of love, for hd_fluff's prompt # 143: “__for two.” , and for enchanted_jae's monthly drabble challenge # 144: Secret crush. Beta(s):
sevfan and emynn.Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Excuses, Excuses
~
“In my defence, I thought this would go a lot more smoothly.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You just strolled into my office and declared you’re now, and I quote, ‘over your secret crush’. How did you think that would go?”
Malfoy, looking infuriatingly composed as he lounged in the chair across from Harry’s desk, shrugged. “It should have gone fine since you weren’t supposed to be here. The room looked empty. How was I to know you were hiding under your desk?”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Harry snapped.
Malfoy smirked. “All right. What were you doing crawling around under there, then?”
“If you must know, I’d dropped something and I was looking for it.”
“Oh, what had you dropped?” Malfoy hummed. “Do you need some help locating something?”
Harry flushed. “No, and what I was looking for is none of your business. It’s my office and it was a private item.”
Holding up his hands in a mock defensive pose, Malfoy’s smirk deepened. “Of course. It’s definitely your business, although, as Head Auror, there are certain standards of behaviour you’re expected to uphold while in the building, so, using private items here may not be the best idea—”
Private items? “Just what are you suggesting?” Harry asked.
Malfoy shrugged, the motion elegant. “Nothing at all. If the Head Auror wants to engage in salacious solitary activities in his office, who am I to criticise him?”
Harry gaped at him. “It wasn’t anything salacious…It’s wasn’t—” He scowled. “It’s nothing like that.”
“What’s it like, then?” Malfoy murmured, tone silky. “Is it something best done with…company? An activity meant for two? Or possibly more, perhaps?”
Fighting the images those words evoked, Harry fought his blush. “What are you really doing in here, Malfoy?” he bit out, trying to sound stern.
“Can’t a bloke just stop by to see the Head Auror—”
“Enough.” Harry stared at him with his best intimidating Auror stare. “I’ve seen you loitering about my office when you think no one will notice. Are you plotting something nefarious?”
Malfoy sat up straight, his former flirty expression morphing into something cold and icy. “Would it matter if I said no?” he bit out. “You seem to have already decided I’m guilty of something, Head Auror—”
“Malfoy, stop.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Harry sighed. “I’m not assuming anything, I'm asking nicely. Why have you been casing my office?”
“I haven’t been casing it.” Malfoy huffed, his stiff posture softening.
“Then what?” Harry watched him, his expression open.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you must know, I came here for advice.”
Harry blinked. “You came to me for advice?”
“I didn’t come to you, Potter!” Malfoy huffed. “I came here.”
“To my office.” Harry looked around the room. “Wait, does my office speak to you, give you advice? You do know how that sounds, right?”
“I’m not here to speak to your office, moron,” Malfoy sneered. “I’m here to speak to him.” He nodded at a spot behind Harry.
Slowly, Harry turned around and stood up to look at the painting on the wall behind him. He’d inherited it, along with all the furniture, from the immediate past Head Auror, who’d recently retired. The painting depicted a forest thick with trees, no people to be seen. He quite liked it. “From who? I don’t see anyone in there.”
“Come on out,” said Malfoy. “It’s safe, I promise.”
Frowning, Harry continued to watch the painting, blinking when a figure detached itself from a tree trunk and moved shyly forward. “Who is that?” he asked, peering at it.
“A distant relative,” said Malfoy in his ear.
Harry winced, turning his head to stare at Malfoy who was suddenly right there.
Malfoy steadied Harry. “You’re jumpy, Potter,” he murmured. “Apologies if I startled you.”
“I’m fine,” lied Harry, staring into Malfoy’s remarkable eyes. Up close they were not just grey but almost silver, with flecks of blue and green. How had Harry not noticed that before? He stepped back. “It’s…it’s fine.” What had they been discussing? Oh, right… “Why’s a portrait of your relative hanging in my office?”
Malfoy snorted. “Because he’s a creature. Father would never allow him to hang in the hall of portraits at the Manor.”
“A creature?” Harry stared at the figure, who was closer. He looked normal enough, but as Harry watched, he smiled and waved at Malfoy before stretching his…wings? “Oh!” breathed Harry.
Malfoy chuckled. “Yes, I had the same reaction the first time I saw him, too. I was five at the time, and, like a fool, I ran to my father and told him I was in love with Ambrosia and wanted to marry him. Needless to say, Father was not pleased.”
“I’m sure. Ambrosia, hm?” Harry coughed. “So how did he get here?”
Malfoy snorted. “At first, Father hid him in the Manor, in obscure hallways or rooms, but I always found him until, finally, he became exasperated and gave him away as a gift.”
“To the Head Auror at the time?”
“No, to some random Ministry worker from whom Father wanted a favour.” Malfoy sighed. “Then, somehow, he ended up here.”
Harry nodded. “And how did you discover he was here?”
Malfoy, watching Ambrosia preen and pose in the portrait, smiled. “The first day I reported to the Head Auror for my community service assignment I saw the painting and recognised it.” He sighed. “I wasn’t going to accept the assignment at first. I’d planned to tell Robards to sod off, figuring I’d end up in Azkaban with Father.”
“But then you saw Ambrosia.”
Malfoy nodded. “I took it as a sign. So instead of fighting my assignment, I did what Robards asked. I was…cooperative, pliable.” He smirked. “Well, within reason.”
“And Robards was so impressed, he ended up sponsoring your entry into the Unspeakable program.” Harry smiled when Malfoy looked surprised. “Yes, I know about that.”
“Hm.” Malfoy turned to face Harry fully, crossing his arms. “Of course you do. All you Auror types like to share information, don’t you?”
“When relevant, yes.” Harry leaned back against his desk. “So, what big decision was Ambrosia going to help you with today?”
As Malfoy hesitated, Ambrosia caught Harry’s eye. He was winking, making kissing faces, pointing at Malfoy and miming hugging him… Harry lowered his head and coughed to cover his smile.
Malfoy huffed. “To quote what you told me earlier, that’s none of your business, Potter.” He turned away to face the painting where Ambrosia, who’d been looking back and forth between them, a smirk on his face, pasted on an exaggeratedly innocent expression. “Anyway, I promise I’ll be quick, so if you’ll excuse us—”
“Who was your secret crush?” Harry interrupted.
Malfoy froze with his back to Harry. “Are you under the impression we’re suddenly friends, Potter?”
Harry snorted. “No. Trust me, I’m aware we’re not friends, nor are we likely to ever be.” When he saw Malfoy’s shoulders stiffen, he pushed off his desk moving closer. “But I think we could be something else.”
“What in Salazar’s name are you—Oh!” Malfoy turned, jumping when he realised Harry was in his personal space. “What the fu—?”
The moment their lips met, and just before he closed his eyes, Harry saw Ambrosia jumping up and down in excitement. And as Malfoy melted against him, he forgot about everything but the man in his arms.
Malfoy moulded himself to Harry, moaning into his mouth when Harry slid his thigh between Malfoy’s legs and pressed closer. He was hard, Harry could feel his erection against his leg, and it made lust spiral through Harry. He’d fancied Malfoy for so long, it seemed a dream to finally have him that close, responding to him so beautifully.
Eventually, Harry drew back to catch his breath.
Malfoy, his arms clinging to Harry’s neck, opened his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m bent, Potter,” he whispered.
Harry laughed. “Yes,” he said, “I am.”
Malfoy snorted, tossing his hair. “For all you know, I could be involved with someone else.”
Harry smirked. “Nope. You said, and I quote, that you were ‘over your secret crush’, remember?”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “That was before. Maybe I’m in love with him again.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Do you fall in and out of love so easily?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
Malfoy smirked. “On what’s under your desk. Accio!”
Harry, startled, tried to shift and block, but it was too late. Malfoy, with Seeker reflexes, easily caught the small photograph as it flew towards him. When Malfoy saw his own face staring back at him, however, he blinked.
Sighing, Harry plucked it out of his hand, tossing it onto the desk.
“You were in here staring at my picture?” Malfoy grinned. “Why, Potter, what else were you doing with it?” As Harry looked down and bit his lip, Malfoy chuckled. “Were you wanking over it? How naughty.”
Harry raised his eyes to smile at Malfoy. “I admit nothing. Although I think my…obsession with it is why Ambrosia told me to kiss you.”
Malfoy huffed. “He did what? That traitor!” Arms still around Harry’s neck, he looked back over his shoulder at Ambrosia, who was still watching them and beaming. When Malfoy glared at him and held up two fingers in a rude gesture, Ambrosia simply blew him a kiss and disappeared back into the painted forest. Turning back around, Malfoy shook his head. “Betrayed by my oldest friend.” He smirked. “I need some consoling, Auror Potter.”
“Do you?” Harry grinned. “I have just the thing.” Leaning in, he captured Malfoy’s lips in another searing kiss. After a while, they ended up on a sofa by the window. “So, do you want that painting?” Harry asked.
Malfoy, kissing his neck, raised his head to look at him for a moment. “No,” he finally said, “keep it.” He hummed. “It gives me an excuse to come up here.”
Laughing softly, Harry leaned in. “Trust me,” he whispered against Malfoy’s mouth, “you don’t need an excuse.”
~
