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draco1002017-03-06 12:37 am
katie-flint.livejournal.com) wrote in draco1002017-03-06 12:37 am
Entry tags:
Fic: "Pity" (Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, PG)
Title: Pity
Author:
katie_flint
Prompt: Prompt 12: a Hunch, for
draco100
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley
Rating: PG
Word count: 100x3
Warnings: N/A
Notes: I have no idea, but I think I'm defnitely gonna have to expand on this.. Happy to be finally back to doing prompts :)
Summary: Draco's eighth year he's obsessed with his studies, absorbed in them, and it takes something quite unusual for him to notice.
Draco had no way of knowing for certain, but he had a pretty good idea who might be putting his books back at the library.
At first he had assumed the books had simply returned themselves, as things were want to do at a place like Hogwarts, but then he’d caught sight of it. That copper-red hair. Weasley hair.
Draco was always asleep when the culprit arrived, passed out on his notebook with his quill dribbling like drool. Not this time though. This time, Draco vowed, he’d figure out not only which one of the Weasels it was, but just what they were up to.
Playing the part brilliantly, Draco congratulated himself on a most spectacular performance. Slowly, and with a few listless jerks of his head, Draco allowed his body to slump against the desk.
It took only heartbeats, much to his impatient pleasure, for copper-red tresses to fall onto the table beside him.
He lashes out, like a true serpent, and grabs ahold of the first piece of her he can catch. Her wrist.
“Why?” His voice sounds like venom.
She struggles fiercely at first but caves unexpectedly, “Because you’re tired, and lonely.”
He releases her as if burnt, and she retreats as if scorched herself; but she’s still standing there. Just out of reach.
A Weasel pities him?
He must seem truly pitiful then, Draco concludes bitterly, grabbing his things in a huff.
“Wait,” She breathes, barely loud enough to be heard over his abrupt rustling.
“I don’t want your pity, Weasel,” Draco spits, feeling as though he’s coiled to attack.
“Don’t call me Weasel!” Ginny snaps, true to her family’s nature, “And yes… I pity you… But I expect a lot of people do.”
Draco scowls and stalks away, his chest stinging painfully.
It’s the truth.
Author:
katie_flintPrompt: Prompt 12: a Hunch, for
draco100Character(s)/Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley
Rating: PG
Word count: 100x3
Warnings: N/A
Notes: I have no idea, but I think I'm defnitely gonna have to expand on this.. Happy to be finally back to doing prompts :)
Summary: Draco's eighth year he's obsessed with his studies, absorbed in them, and it takes something quite unusual for him to notice.
Draco had no way of knowing for certain, but he had a pretty good idea who might be putting his books back at the library.
At first he had assumed the books had simply returned themselves, as things were want to do at a place like Hogwarts, but then he’d caught sight of it. That copper-red hair. Weasley hair.
Draco was always asleep when the culprit arrived, passed out on his notebook with his quill dribbling like drool. Not this time though. This time, Draco vowed, he’d figure out not only which one of the Weasels it was, but just what they were up to.
Playing the part brilliantly, Draco congratulated himself on a most spectacular performance. Slowly, and with a few listless jerks of his head, Draco allowed his body to slump against the desk.
It took only heartbeats, much to his impatient pleasure, for copper-red tresses to fall onto the table beside him.
He lashes out, like a true serpent, and grabs ahold of the first piece of her he can catch. Her wrist.
“Why?” His voice sounds like venom.
She struggles fiercely at first but caves unexpectedly, “Because you’re tired, and lonely.”
He releases her as if burnt, and she retreats as if scorched herself; but she’s still standing there. Just out of reach.
A Weasel pities him?
He must seem truly pitiful then, Draco concludes bitterly, grabbing his things in a huff.
“Wait,” She breathes, barely loud enough to be heard over his abrupt rustling.
“I don’t want your pity, Weasel,” Draco spits, feeling as though he’s coiled to attack.
“Don’t call me Weasel!” Ginny snaps, true to her family’s nature, “And yes… I pity you… But I expect a lot of people do.”
Draco scowls and stalks away, his chest stinging painfully.
It’s the truth.