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Harry/Draco
Rated Gen
by Karadin
no remuneration taken
text copyright 2006
HD Flashfic Challenge
handshake
As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy scowled at each other across the small patch of green that they shared on the Quidditch Pitch, Madame Hooch told them to shake hands.
Harry groaned and Malfoy shuddered.
"Mind you play fair, boys," Madame Hooch leveled a dark gaze at them both.
"For Merlin’s sake," Malfoy spat when Harry stuck out his hand abruptly, wanting to get it over with, "take off your glove! You don’t know the first thing about Wizarding etiquette!"
Malfoy slid his hand out of his dark gauntlet and in a moment, Harry saw the result of generations of Wizarding elite made manifest in this pale boy.
Unlike Harry’s broad hands, calloused and chapped with red knuckles, Malfoy’s hand was white and smooth, the nails rounded, cut short and possibly buffed. Harry knew when he clasped that hand it would be soft, and he reached forward, a smile ready on his lips.
He would crush Malfoy easily, like swatting a fly, or catching the Snitch. Harry was certain Malfoy would always lose, because he was all show and no substance.
But the hand under his, while soft and pale, was firm, with the tensile strength of garroting wire. And Malfoy’s eyes were cool and grey.
Harry shifted his grip and watched Malfoy adjust to meet it, just as they did in the air, Harry leading and Malfoy following his every move, waiting for Harry to do the Seeking, so he might insinuate his slender pale fingers into the air and snatch his prize from him.
It was then that Madame Hooch let go the Snitch, catching Harry and Draco unprepared.
Both boys pulled apart only to realize they had not unclasped their hands.
Malfoy was the first to break free, shaking his wrist as he mounted his broom and sped upward.
Harry felt a chuckle rise in the back of his throat as he kicked off the ground.
Today he was going to follow.
Rated Gen
by Karadin
no remuneration taken
text copyright 2006
HD Flashfic Challenge
handshake
As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy scowled at each other across the small patch of green that they shared on the Quidditch Pitch, Madame Hooch told them to shake hands.
Harry groaned and Malfoy shuddered.
"Mind you play fair, boys," Madame Hooch leveled a dark gaze at them both.
"For Merlin’s sake," Malfoy spat when Harry stuck out his hand abruptly, wanting to get it over with, "take off your glove! You don’t know the first thing about Wizarding etiquette!"
Malfoy slid his hand out of his dark gauntlet and in a moment, Harry saw the result of generations of Wizarding elite made manifest in this pale boy.
Unlike Harry’s broad hands, calloused and chapped with red knuckles, Malfoy’s hand was white and smooth, the nails rounded, cut short and possibly buffed. Harry knew when he clasped that hand it would be soft, and he reached forward, a smile ready on his lips.
He would crush Malfoy easily, like swatting a fly, or catching the Snitch. Harry was certain Malfoy would always lose, because he was all show and no substance.
But the hand under his, while soft and pale, was firm, with the tensile strength of garroting wire. And Malfoy’s eyes were cool and grey.
Harry shifted his grip and watched Malfoy adjust to meet it, just as they did in the air, Harry leading and Malfoy following his every move, waiting for Harry to do the Seeking, so he might insinuate his slender pale fingers into the air and snatch his prize from him.
It was then that Madame Hooch let go the Snitch, catching Harry and Draco unprepared.
Both boys pulled apart only to realize they had not unclasped their hands.
Malfoy was the first to break free, shaking his wrist as he mounted his broom and sped upward.
Harry felt a chuckle rise in the back of his throat as he kicked off the ground.
Today he was going to follow.
