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Ha! I am oddly happy this fine evening. Have been ever since I took that Japanese test a day ago. I don't know what grade I got yet, but I feel very confident about how I did. I guess studying for a whole day paid off. I recognized everything and, though I didn't get everything right, I know I got a lot correct.
SO.
FIC FOR YOUUUUUU!!!!
Okay, so usually I am not feeling so goofy. As a result of this odd occurence, we have a bit of fluffy sappiness on our hands tonight. Maybe a teensy bit OOC, but hell. I AM JOYOUS. I have dragged them all into joyousness with me. Feel free to latch on and be sappy!
Title: In Which Draco Malfoy Treats His Classmates To Bad Poetry Over Breakfast
Author: giggly!RurouniHime
Pairing: H/D with a pinch of Hr/R
Rating: G
Summary: How does Draco love thee? Let him count the ways...
Disclaimer: These boys are JK Rowling's, not mine. A touch of slash.
“How do I love thee?” Draco Malfoy yelled, sweeping a hand out to the blinking lot of students. “Let me count the ways.”
“Draco, for Heaven’s sakes, get off the table!”
Draco tried to nudge Pansy’s hand off his ankle with his other foot, and then resorted to scuffing crumbs in her direction until she slapped him and let go, muttering. He turned back to his flabbergasted audience and straightened his shirt huffily. “As I was saying.”
He coughed into his hand. “Ahem... One. That was most definitely the time when I beat you in that duel sixth year and you had a high squeaky voice for six hours. I loved that. Two.”
Across the room, Harry Potter rose shakily to his feet. “Draco, uh, what are you doing?”
The blond Slytherin glared at him venomously. “Kindly shut up, Potter. I’m trying to express my feelings for you. Sit down and enjoy it.”
Harry sat, and Draco continued. “Two. That was when I had the opportunity to turn the Weasel into a giant beady-eyed mushroom but I settled for giving him fish scales and fins. I did that for you, Harry, and I hope you’re bloody happy.”
Harry clamped a hand over Ron’s mouth before his indignant shout could make itself known. Hermione soothed her boyfriend, patting his arm and looking sheepish. “Let’s just... let him finish, shall we?”
“Three. Most certainly the time I blew up that cauldron during our detention.”
“You did that on purpose?” Harry cried. Ron took the opportunity of Harry’s lack of attention to bite his hand hard. Harry yelped and pulled away.
Draco scowled ferociously at the interruption. “Well, you said you would give anything to get out of Snape’s classroom. I knew you’d appreciate it, despite the boils. Anyways. Four.”
The rest of the students gaped silently as Draco informed them of the time he’d knocked Harry off his broom at fifteen feet to keep him from getting hit by a bludger. The Slytherin looked incredibly pleased with himself and glanced at Harry with a genuinely happy smile. Harry blinked at him and rubbed his backside, still remembering that fall.
“Five. When I gave you four hours of detention so you wouldn’t have to write that scroll for McGonagall. Six—”
“That’s not love!” Heads swiveled to find Zacharias Smith standing indignantly, pointing at Draco. “Jeez, you call that love? That’s the worst kind of ‘love’ I’ve ever heard of! You could have killed him at least three out of those five times!”
Draco glared, hands on his hips. “Do you mind? I don’t appreciate the interruption when I’m trying to tell my boyfriend how I feel.”
“Oh, please,” Zacharias scoffed. He crossed his arms and smirked at Draco. “You don’t love him. You only hurt him, obviously!”
Several heads nodded in agreement. The Hufflepuff spread his arms wide. “Why don’t you do him a favor and just kill him already so he doesn’t have to suffer anymore?”
Expectant eyes turned back to the Slytherin table, waiting for the outburst of fury. But it was not to come. The light had gone out of Draco’s eyes. His shoulders slumped. He glanced at where Harry sat and opened his mouth... but closed it again without speaking. Even Ron was silent, watching Draco standing alone on top of the table, looking at his shoes. The Hall was absolutely still.
“Six.”
Gasps sounded. Everyone looked at the Gryffindor table. Harry had risen from his seat and was staring fixedly at the lone poet.
“When you conjured up helium balloons for six hours in the infirmary after the duel so we could have meaningful chipmunk conversation.”
Draco darted his eyes to Harry and looked away again. He shrugged wordlessly.
“Seven.” Now Harry was moving down the row, walking slowly. “When you stayed after hours in Potions fixing a tonic for Ron to rub on his scales to keep them from drying out.”
“I thought that was Harry,” Ron whispered. Hermione kissed his cheek and shook her head, smiling.
“Eight. That time you got caught stealing salve from Snape’s Potions supply and lost fifty points, got double detention, and still snuck into the infirmary to massage healing oil into my arms to get rid of the boils.” Harry was standing at the Slytherin table looking up at Draco.
The blond pursed his lips, refusing to return his gaze. “Hardly the point, Potter.”
“Nine,” Harry said, lifting a hand to touch Draco’s ankle. “The time you landed beside me and refused to catch the Snitch until I was back up on my broom again.”
“One of your best games, if I recall.” Draco looked down at Harry shyly.
“Ten.” Harry laced his fingers through Draco’s and gazed into his eyes. “The night you spent scrubbing trophies and convincing McGonagall to give me a week’s extension so I could get to the library to research that essay.”
Draco bit his lip. “But it was totally unnecessary in the first place.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Harry whispered, grinning. He got up onto the table and embraced his boyfriend. “It’s the thought that counts.”
Zacharias Smith sat down, a subdued but dreamy smile on his lips. Hermione sighed and laid her head on Ron’s shoulder. Ron, for his part, shook his head. “Funny, that. Rather sweet... and a bit odd.”
“Mm.” Hermione gave him a squeeze, grinning at the couple now snuggling happily on the Slytherin table. “It’s Draco and Harry. Odd is to be expected.”
...
...
*gets attack of Giggles-of-Sappiness* Please excuse me.
SO.
FIC FOR YOUUUUUU!!!!
Okay, so usually I am not feeling so goofy. As a result of this odd occurence, we have a bit of fluffy sappiness on our hands tonight. Maybe a teensy bit OOC, but hell. I AM JOYOUS. I have dragged them all into joyousness with me. Feel free to latch on and be sappy!
Title: In Which Draco Malfoy Treats His Classmates To Bad Poetry Over Breakfast
Author: giggly!RurouniHime
Pairing: H/D with a pinch of Hr/R
Rating: G
Summary: How does Draco love thee? Let him count the ways...
Disclaimer: These boys are JK Rowling's, not mine. A touch of slash.
“How do I love thee?” Draco Malfoy yelled, sweeping a hand out to the blinking lot of students. “Let me count the ways.”
“Draco, for Heaven’s sakes, get off the table!”
Draco tried to nudge Pansy’s hand off his ankle with his other foot, and then resorted to scuffing crumbs in her direction until she slapped him and let go, muttering. He turned back to his flabbergasted audience and straightened his shirt huffily. “As I was saying.”
He coughed into his hand. “Ahem... One. That was most definitely the time when I beat you in that duel sixth year and you had a high squeaky voice for six hours. I loved that. Two.”
Across the room, Harry Potter rose shakily to his feet. “Draco, uh, what are you doing?”
The blond Slytherin glared at him venomously. “Kindly shut up, Potter. I’m trying to express my feelings for you. Sit down and enjoy it.”
Harry sat, and Draco continued. “Two. That was when I had the opportunity to turn the Weasel into a giant beady-eyed mushroom but I settled for giving him fish scales and fins. I did that for you, Harry, and I hope you’re bloody happy.”
Harry clamped a hand over Ron’s mouth before his indignant shout could make itself known. Hermione soothed her boyfriend, patting his arm and looking sheepish. “Let’s just... let him finish, shall we?”
“Three. Most certainly the time I blew up that cauldron during our detention.”
“You did that on purpose?” Harry cried. Ron took the opportunity of Harry’s lack of attention to bite his hand hard. Harry yelped and pulled away.
Draco scowled ferociously at the interruption. “Well, you said you would give anything to get out of Snape’s classroom. I knew you’d appreciate it, despite the boils. Anyways. Four.”
The rest of the students gaped silently as Draco informed them of the time he’d knocked Harry off his broom at fifteen feet to keep him from getting hit by a bludger. The Slytherin looked incredibly pleased with himself and glanced at Harry with a genuinely happy smile. Harry blinked at him and rubbed his backside, still remembering that fall.
“Five. When I gave you four hours of detention so you wouldn’t have to write that scroll for McGonagall. Six—”
“That’s not love!” Heads swiveled to find Zacharias Smith standing indignantly, pointing at Draco. “Jeez, you call that love? That’s the worst kind of ‘love’ I’ve ever heard of! You could have killed him at least three out of those five times!”
Draco glared, hands on his hips. “Do you mind? I don’t appreciate the interruption when I’m trying to tell my boyfriend how I feel.”
“Oh, please,” Zacharias scoffed. He crossed his arms and smirked at Draco. “You don’t love him. You only hurt him, obviously!”
Several heads nodded in agreement. The Hufflepuff spread his arms wide. “Why don’t you do him a favor and just kill him already so he doesn’t have to suffer anymore?”
Expectant eyes turned back to the Slytherin table, waiting for the outburst of fury. But it was not to come. The light had gone out of Draco’s eyes. His shoulders slumped. He glanced at where Harry sat and opened his mouth... but closed it again without speaking. Even Ron was silent, watching Draco standing alone on top of the table, looking at his shoes. The Hall was absolutely still.
“Six.”
Gasps sounded. Everyone looked at the Gryffindor table. Harry had risen from his seat and was staring fixedly at the lone poet.
“When you conjured up helium balloons for six hours in the infirmary after the duel so we could have meaningful chipmunk conversation.”
Draco darted his eyes to Harry and looked away again. He shrugged wordlessly.
“Seven.” Now Harry was moving down the row, walking slowly. “When you stayed after hours in Potions fixing a tonic for Ron to rub on his scales to keep them from drying out.”
“I thought that was Harry,” Ron whispered. Hermione kissed his cheek and shook her head, smiling.
“Eight. That time you got caught stealing salve from Snape’s Potions supply and lost fifty points, got double detention, and still snuck into the infirmary to massage healing oil into my arms to get rid of the boils.” Harry was standing at the Slytherin table looking up at Draco.
The blond pursed his lips, refusing to return his gaze. “Hardly the point, Potter.”
“Nine,” Harry said, lifting a hand to touch Draco’s ankle. “The time you landed beside me and refused to catch the Snitch until I was back up on my broom again.”
“One of your best games, if I recall.” Draco looked down at Harry shyly.
“Ten.” Harry laced his fingers through Draco’s and gazed into his eyes. “The night you spent scrubbing trophies and convincing McGonagall to give me a week’s extension so I could get to the library to research that essay.”
Draco bit his lip. “But it was totally unnecessary in the first place.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Harry whispered, grinning. He got up onto the table and embraced his boyfriend. “It’s the thought that counts.”
Zacharias Smith sat down, a subdued but dreamy smile on his lips. Hermione sighed and laid her head on Ron’s shoulder. Ron, for his part, shook his head. “Funny, that. Rather sweet... and a bit odd.”
“Mm.” Hermione gave him a squeeze, grinning at the couple now snuggling happily on the Slytherin table. “It’s Draco and Harry. Odd is to be expected.”
...
...
*gets attack of Giggles-of-Sappiness* Please excuse me.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 10:12 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 10:51 pm (UTC)From:That's why I stalk you. *snort*
*hugs* Well, I always mean it.
Your reviews always make me smile too, so we're even!
no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 10:59 pm (UTC)From:Your ficcie? Close to completion.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 11:13 pm (UTC)From:Most welcome for the rec. I love Hermione's line: “It’s Draco and Harry. Odd is to be expected.”
heh. Perfect!
(I was thinking about stealing that icon too when I saw the whole series this morning. heh. It's too cute...mmm...ride a wizard...)
no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 11:21 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 11:25 pm (UTC)From:dark, but very cool. I find the red font a bit hard to read, but love the icons
no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 11:32 pm (UTC)From:Ahhhh, frulie! I am having difficulties keeping the tone with your villa-first time fic. It keeps wanting to go off on its own.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 11:38 pm (UTC)From:Well, if you want to let it run, I don't mind...but if you'd like it to obey, I have a whip you can borrow!
*oils it, and hands it over*
no subject
Date: 2004-10-12 11:50 pm (UTC)From:OMG your icon is so cute!
Okay, and now, a snippet of your fic. Sample, if you will:
He was kissing me, and I was kissing him back, and his hands were climbing up under my shirt when I broke off and looked away. He looked at me silently, eyes questioning, and it was then that I told him I didn’t really know what I was doing.
His hands loosened and he stepped away from me. One step. It felt like a gulf. His eyes traveled over me, starting at the tips of my hair and going down to my bare toes, then back up. My skin felt cold, prickly, until he lifted a hand and ran fingers through my hair, smoothing it back. He touched the skin just above my collarbone with a tentative finger. Pressed a palm gently against my bare stomach. I shivered.
“So I’m... the first to touch you like this?” he murmured. I had to smile.
“Not like this, no.”
He let out a breath tinged with laughter and let his eyes rove again. “No, I meant that I will be the first person to touch you. There.”
His eyes locked on mine. I could barely see the color in the dim light. The hand on my belly felt hot. He began to move it in slow languid circles.
“What do you want me to do?” My voice felt light, half full of the air it needed.
He leaned forward, brushed his nose against mine. I could smell his vanilla shampoo. “Just do what feels right.”
“I don’t—”
“Harry,” he whispered. “I trust you.”
It felt right to kiss him then.
Damn!
Date: 2004-10-13 12:48 am (UTC)From:I can't wait to read more!
*worships and watches you whip them with the wet noodle* wow!
(My icon was made by
Thank you thank you!!!!