Fic: A Snowball's Chance
Dec. 5th, 2018 10:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: A Snowball's Chance
Author:alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini.
Word Count: 542
Warnings: More flirting.
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 # 5: Snowy Telephone Booth, and for dracoharry100/dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge prompt: Snowball fight. Part 5 of Christmas Crush (LJ/IJ/DW).
Beta(s): None, poke me if you spot anything.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
A Snowball’s Chance
~
They stumbled out of the club, both staggering a bit as they walked. Harry’s mind was fuzzy, but he felt good. Malfoy had been an enjoyable drinking companion, so much so that, as the night had gone on, Hermione, Ginny, and Blaise had left, and he’d barely noticed.
He was funny, too. Harry had long suspected it, but his wry comments and observations about people in the club and life in general had kept Harry in stitches for the majority of the evening.
“…to now?” asked Malfoy, leaning against a snowy covered Muggle telephone booth and eyeing Harry with what could only be described as a speculative look.
“Huh?” said Harry.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “This is how people take advantage of you, Potter,” he drawled. “You let your guard down by getting inebriated, and then you don’t know what they’re proposing.”
“You’re just as inebriated as I am,” said Harry, proud to have got all the words out without slurring them. Moving towards Malfoy, he poked him in the centre of his chest. “Admit it.”
“I admit nothing.” Malfoy’s eyes were dancing. “Although maybe you should admit what you’re really doing here with me.”
Harry, intrigued, leaned closer, gazing into Malfoy’s eyes. They seemed to have silver flecks in them, and how had Harry not noticed them before? “What…what am I doing here?” he whispered.
Malfoy huffed, although he didn’t shift away. Instead, he grasped Harry’s finger. “Surely you know?”
Just then, Harry knew exactly what he wished he was doing with Malfoy. “Tell me,” he breathed.
Malfoy grinned wickedly. “Having a snowball fight,” he said, and before Harry could react to that, a moist, fat glob of snow landed on his head, dripping cold snow-water down his back and into his eyes.
“Argh!” cried Harry, rearing back. “You arse!” Removing his glasses, he wiped his face off and by the time he’s put them back on Malfoy was bending down to make more snowballs. “Oh no you don’t!”
“Defend yourself!” Malfoy’s smile was blinding as he sent another flurry of snowballs Harry’s way.
Diving behind some shrubbery, Harry did, sending several of his own snowballs at Malfoy.
They exchanged fire, grinning at each other as they did, until some Muggles came along, forcing them to stop. Once they were gone, Harry waited and, hearing nothing, peered out from behind his bush. “Malfoy?”
When there was no answer, Harry hesitated, then stood up, and was hit directly in the face with snow. As Malfoy laughed, however, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the location of Malfoy’s voice.
“I win, I win!” Malfoy chortled, until his words were choked off.
Smirking, Harry again cleaned his glasses off, then walked over to where Malfoy was buried under snow, all but his face, which was staring, clearly shocked, up at Harry. “What the fuck, Potter?”
Harry laughed. “Poke the lion, and this is what you get.”
“I think you broke me,” Malfoy groaned.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Harry said, extending a hand to him. “Come on. Time to go.”
Malfoy accepted Harry’s hand, but once he grasped it, he tugged Harry down so he was sprawled on top of him. “Time to go where, Potter?” he asked softly in Harry’s ear. “Yours or mine?”
~
Continued in Coming Clean (LJ/IJ/DW).
Author:
alisanneRating: PG
Pairing/Characters: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini.
Word Count: 542
Warnings: More flirting.
A/N: Written for
slythindor100/slythindor100's prompt # 5: Snowy Telephone Booth, and for dracoharry100/dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge prompt: Snowball fight. Part 5 of Christmas Crush (LJ/IJ/DW).Beta(s): None, poke me if you spot anything.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
A Snowball’s Chance
~
They stumbled out of the club, both staggering a bit as they walked. Harry’s mind was fuzzy, but he felt good. Malfoy had been an enjoyable drinking companion, so much so that, as the night had gone on, Hermione, Ginny, and Blaise had left, and he’d barely noticed.
He was funny, too. Harry had long suspected it, but his wry comments and observations about people in the club and life in general had kept Harry in stitches for the majority of the evening.
“…to now?” asked Malfoy, leaning against a snowy covered Muggle telephone booth and eyeing Harry with what could only be described as a speculative look.
“Huh?” said Harry.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “This is how people take advantage of you, Potter,” he drawled. “You let your guard down by getting inebriated, and then you don’t know what they’re proposing.”
“You’re just as inebriated as I am,” said Harry, proud to have got all the words out without slurring them. Moving towards Malfoy, he poked him in the centre of his chest. “Admit it.”
“I admit nothing.” Malfoy’s eyes were dancing. “Although maybe you should admit what you’re really doing here with me.”
Harry, intrigued, leaned closer, gazing into Malfoy’s eyes. They seemed to have silver flecks in them, and how had Harry not noticed them before? “What…what am I doing here?” he whispered.
Malfoy huffed, although he didn’t shift away. Instead, he grasped Harry’s finger. “Surely you know?”
Just then, Harry knew exactly what he wished he was doing with Malfoy. “Tell me,” he breathed.
Malfoy grinned wickedly. “Having a snowball fight,” he said, and before Harry could react to that, a moist, fat glob of snow landed on his head, dripping cold snow-water down his back and into his eyes.
“Argh!” cried Harry, rearing back. “You arse!” Removing his glasses, he wiped his face off and by the time he’s put them back on Malfoy was bending down to make more snowballs. “Oh no you don’t!”
“Defend yourself!” Malfoy’s smile was blinding as he sent another flurry of snowballs Harry’s way.
Diving behind some shrubbery, Harry did, sending several of his own snowballs at Malfoy.
They exchanged fire, grinning at each other as they did, until some Muggles came along, forcing them to stop. Once they were gone, Harry waited and, hearing nothing, peered out from behind his bush. “Malfoy?”
When there was no answer, Harry hesitated, then stood up, and was hit directly in the face with snow. As Malfoy laughed, however, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the location of Malfoy’s voice.
“I win, I win!” Malfoy chortled, until his words were choked off.
Smirking, Harry again cleaned his glasses off, then walked over to where Malfoy was buried under snow, all but his face, which was staring, clearly shocked, up at Harry. “What the fuck, Potter?”
Harry laughed. “Poke the lion, and this is what you get.”
“I think you broke me,” Malfoy groaned.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Harry said, extending a hand to him. “Come on. Time to go.”
Malfoy accepted Harry’s hand, but once he grasped it, he tugged Harry down so he was sprawled on top of him. “Time to go where, Potter?” he asked softly in Harry’s ear. “Yours or mine?”
~
Continued in Coming Clean (LJ/IJ/DW).
