My First Ink Art

Microfic May: Day Five

Hang - Dronarry (157 words)

Ron’s shoes are kicked off inside the door, scarlet robes thrown at the wall in a hope that they’ll miraculously hang themselves.

From upstairs, the cadence of the shower changes as someone moves beneath it.

No. Not someone.

Some… two.

His shirt is next, lost halfway up the stairs as he trips himself closer, whilst his trousers end up draped on the bannister. He’s just in his pants when he pushes the bathroom door open, half-hard and thanking the Gods for an early finish.

They don’t notice him at first, too wrapped up in each other. Harry is gasping, breathy and loud over the top of the water fall. Head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, fingers tightening in the shock of silver-bright hair. He’s close, Ron can tell.

Draco’s on his knees, looking as utterly perfect as usual even with his mouth full. Especially with his mouth full.

Harry’s eyes snap open. “Ron.”

Ron steps straight in.

VII. Yawn

<- previous day

After the first accidental encounter with Potter in the kitchen, they kept running into each other. At first Draco thought nothing of it. He got in, made his tea while Potter’s loud machine worked, got his breakfast, and got out.

One day, Potter said, “I made extra, want some?” And Draco stayed around while they ate in silence.

The next day it repeated and before he knew it, they started eating breakfast together.

Draco would go in while the growling machine spat out coffee and the frying pants sizzled. He made tea while Potter loaded their plates. They atd together almost like in school but now at the same table. Across from him, Potter’s hair was still a mess but he wore his sleeping clothes; still bare feet and eyes red from sleep.

Throughout the meal he’d yawn and zone out. But everyday he was in the kitchen and everyday Draco showed up.

next ->

prompt list previous days

the "canon isn't real we make our own rules" to "i am begging you people to revisit the source material" pipeline

(X)

VI. Floral

<- previous day

Draco was not distracted, and certainly not whilst brewing his potions. Draco wasn’t many things but if there was one, it would be his dedication. But that day his mind was lingering. On a soaked shirt sleeve and lips on a ceramic mug. On green eyes swirling inside verdant liquid.

So instead of adding a teaspoon of bog moss, he ended up using a tablespoon. He had to scrap the whole thing but the potion was easy enough to make if one was paying attention. It was a simple error to fix without much trouble. Except for the smell.

Draco, in the immediate range of the cauldron, was hit with a facefull of green fog. Eyes watering as he coughed deliriously, he didn’t notice Potter had walked into his temporary potion’s lab. 

There was a strained inhale of air before he spoke a bit muffled, “What happened?”

Draco looked up from where he was dying on the floor. 

“Nothing to worry, just a little mistake.” 

Potter raised an eyebrow but, smartly, chose not to comment. Then he waved his wand and the thick fog vanished from the enclosed space. However, the stink still lingered. As if it had absorbed onto every surface, Draco could feel it seeped into his skin. He urgently wanted to go upstairs and shower, to scrub at his skin until it peeled off and took the horrible stench with it. Then Potter waved his wand again and the air in the room shifted. 

The atrocious smell was gone. In its place was now a curiously floral tone. It took a moment for Draco to place the smell: honey and citrus. Potter’s refreshening spell smelled like honeysuckle.

next day ->

prompt list previous days

harry james potter

unmatched ship dynamic: "i've done terrible things in the past" x "all i care about is who you are in the present"

XV. Future

This is part of continuous story, you can read the first part here. Based off this prompt list by @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean

<- previous

The ambiguity of their relationship hung in the air. A limbo of the past and future.

Mornings they still had breakfast.

Now there was a gentle caress of hands as Harry made the food and Draco brewed the tea and coffee.

Nights they still had dinner.

Yet there were heated glances shared across the table, every look a promise.

Afterwards they still built their puzzles.

With the addition of kissing. Lots of kissing. Draco no longer felt worried Harry would catch him staring since the other would do the same and then they would kiss again.

The lines blurred and Draco didn’t know which ones he was crossing. Hunted with the mistakes of his past and the fear of the future, he chose to enjoy the limbo. To live within their gap and be happy with the present.

all entries next->

Can i say something problematique for terminally online millenials and people born after that point: I think the seeming lack of ability or willingness to call one another and chat on the phone with friends unprompted or out of the blue contributes to whatever hellish loneliness everyone is talking about feeling these days. Say what you want about boomers and old people but those guys mostly knew how to keep in touch with each other. Idk man call a bitch today

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by @letteredlettered

I love this fic, and the quiet deep feelings combined with fun spy plot. Not sure what about it told me it needed pink geometric animals but that’s what I’ve gone for and I kind of love it!