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nicevennTitle: Entertainment, Muggle-style
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: G
Wordcount: 396
Summary: Harry and Draco get a television.
A/N: Gift drabble for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
knowmefirst, whose prompt was television.
Seven years as fellow Aurors.
Three years as friends.
Six months as flatmates.
Yet, it was only in front of the television that Harry finally saw Draco let his walls down -- if only for an hour or two at a time.
A few days earlier, Harry had released a whispered “Yes!” when Draco had finally given in and allowed him to put a television in the sitting room. He hadn’t known at the time just how much delight the decision would bring him. And Draco.
Draco had been spending all of his free hours watching movies... and expressing his emotions more freely than Harry had ever witnessed him do. He had laughed. He had grown tense. He had cried out in indignation. Harry had even rented Eight Below to see if Draco would cry. It had worked. Well, at least until he'd remembered that Harry was there.
Draco liked comedies the most, however. And the sillier, the better. Harry didn’t mind that at all. Laughter was one thing Harry had not had enough of in his life.
Harry had just put on Bruce Almighty and gone into the kitchen to make popcorn. A few minutes later, bowl in hand, he stopped in the entrance to the sitting room to steal a glance at his flatmate.
As the colored glow of the television played upon Draco’s face, his expression shifted from one of mild concern to pure amusement. Harry smiled to himself and went to sit down on the sofa next to him, placing the bowl of pumpkin spice popcorn -- Draco’s favorite -- on the coffee table. Draco, apparently unaware of his return, continued to laugh gleefully beside him.
“I do the cha-cha like a sissy girl!” Draco repeated, trying to catch his breath. “You know, I’ve always been tempted to cast a spell to make you speak gibberish while interrogating a suspect.”
So he was aware of Harry’s presence.
“What?” The amusement faded from Draco’s face, self-consciousness appearing in its place.
Harry gulped, realizing that he’d been staring.
“Nothing.”
Their eyes remained locked for a moment before they simultaneously looked away. Harry felt his heart beat a little faster. It was one of the shortest conversations they’d ever had, but it might have said the most.
The End.
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: G
Wordcount: 396
Summary: Harry and Draco get a television.
A/N: Gift drabble for
knowmefirst, whose prompt was television.Seven years as fellow Aurors.
Three years as friends.
Six months as flatmates.
Yet, it was only in front of the television that Harry finally saw Draco let his walls down -- if only for an hour or two at a time.
A few days earlier, Harry had released a whispered “Yes!” when Draco had finally given in and allowed him to put a television in the sitting room. He hadn’t known at the time just how much delight the decision would bring him. And Draco.
Draco had been spending all of his free hours watching movies... and expressing his emotions more freely than Harry had ever witnessed him do. He had laughed. He had grown tense. He had cried out in indignation. Harry had even rented Eight Below to see if Draco would cry. It had worked. Well, at least until he'd remembered that Harry was there.
Draco liked comedies the most, however. And the sillier, the better. Harry didn’t mind that at all. Laughter was one thing Harry had not had enough of in his life.
Harry had just put on Bruce Almighty and gone into the kitchen to make popcorn. A few minutes later, bowl in hand, he stopped in the entrance to the sitting room to steal a glance at his flatmate.
As the colored glow of the television played upon Draco’s face, his expression shifted from one of mild concern to pure amusement. Harry smiled to himself and went to sit down on the sofa next to him, placing the bowl of pumpkin spice popcorn -- Draco’s favorite -- on the coffee table. Draco, apparently unaware of his return, continued to laugh gleefully beside him.
“I do the cha-cha like a sissy girl!” Draco repeated, trying to catch his breath. “You know, I’ve always been tempted to cast a spell to make you speak gibberish while interrogating a suspect.”
So he was aware of Harry’s presence.
“What?” The amusement faded from Draco’s face, self-consciousness appearing in its place.
Harry gulped, realizing that he’d been staring.
“Nothing.”
Their eyes remained locked for a moment before they simultaneously looked away. Harry felt his heart beat a little faster. It was one of the shortest conversations they’d ever had, but it might have said the most.
The End.
