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rarepair_shortsAuthor: ???
Recipient:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deathlydragon
Title: A Dark and Stormy Night
Pairing: Draco/James Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,700
Summary: Hogwarts Professor Draco Malfoy tries to help James Potter appreciate Muggle literature at the request of Minister for Magic Harry Potter who is trying to make sure his children have a broad education. A thunderstorm, a snowstorm, ego clashes and a little bit of snogging abound.
Author's Notes: Thank you to the lovely SG for the beta and I hope this is what the recipient was looking for with their prompt. All characters are above the age of consent (James Potter is eighteen).
A Dark and Stormy Night
“It was a dark and stormy night…”
Draco sighed, holding up a hand. “Honestly, Potter – it’s a bit of a cliché don’t you think?”
James scowled at Draco and gestured to the flickering candles in Malfoy Manor which cast long, eerie shadows on the walls as the thunder rumbled outside. A crack of lightening illuminated the faces of the two men just for a moment. Draco crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, waiting for James to speak.
“This whole place is a bloody cliché, Professor. I don’t know why the hell I have to study Muggle literature anyway – let alone write my own.” James frowned down at his messy scrawl and then grinned up at Draco. “I bet you could teach me some brilliant hexes.”
Draco rolled his eyes to the ceiling, watching a tiny spider spinning its web in a small crevice in the corner of the ceiling. He would have to make a house elf iron its ears for missing that.
James was still watching him, hopefully. Draco was becoming increasingly more convinced that all of the Potter men were mentally stunted. How on earth the most irritating of the whole sorry lot of them had made it to Minister, Draco would never know.
“We have discussed this, Potter. Your father, Merlin knows how, is Minister and he has asked me to tutor you in art and literature so that you are well versed in both Muggle and Wizarding culture.”
“But it’s so boring!” James pointed towards a large pile of books. “Shakespeare sucks.”
Draco looked horrified and sat up a little straighter. “He does not.”
“Does too.” James stuck out his tongue. Draco had the strangest urge to bite it.
“Merlin, you’re impossible. Perhaps something more modern…” Draco sighed and muttered ‘ingrate’ under his breath and then handed James another book. “Let’s see if this is more up your street.”
“Catcher in the Rye? Sounds stupid.” Wisely, James did not expand on his opinion as Draco bestowed the impossible little toe rag with one of his best formidable Potions Master glares.
As James began to read, Draco watched him closely. At eighteen and nearly at the end of his Hogwarts education, James was taller than his father at that age and had filled out rather nicely. He was a cocky little brat who knew more pranks than the Weasley twins put together, but he was smart enough if only he would apply himself. Draco looked at the lines of the boy’s face, the strong, set jaw and watched the movement of the boy’s lips as he read.
A particularly loud clap of thunder made Draco start. He had been so busy focusing on the boy’s face, illuminated in the soft candlelight; he had been daydreaming a little. Accompanying the clap a silvery stag charged into the room, dipping its antlers in a bow and stomping a hoofed foot impatiently.
“Malfoy! There’s a snowstorm in Warsaw - we’re surrounded by Muggles and can’t Apparate out – Can James stay with you? Thanks, I owe you one”
The stag shook its head and then turned and galloped out into the night. Draco looked at James who had stopped reading and was frowning.
“Oh, bloody hell! I have to stay here tonight? This place is creepy.”
“Yes, Potter. I find myself delighted to have to put up with an irritating teenager who doesn’t know his Bronte from his Byron when I could have been enjoying some fine single malt with a more…adult companion.”
“Hey, I’m an adult!” James bristled at this and scowled at Draco. “I wish I’d just bloody well gone to Warsaw now.”
“Well you didn’t, did you? If I recall you found the idea of supporting your father to be horribly beneath you and elected to stay in London so you could watch the Canons play today. Perhaps this will teach you to be so selfish.” Draco smirked. “I assume your father has told you about the horrible secrets buried deep in the corridors of Malfoy Manor?”
“Oh whatever, Professor.” James closed his book, obviously done with his reading for the evening.
“Did you say something about single malt?”
“Good grief.” Draco stood and walked over to a huge mahogany drinks cabinet. With a smirk he poured Potter a small measure of something sickly and yellow that a member of the Weasley clan had given him for Christmas, pouring himself a generous measure of port at the same time.
“What’s this?” James was looking at the drink with suspicion. With a shrug he took a large swig, spluttering a little. “That’s vile.”
“Yes, it is rather.” Draco smirked and savoured the port which really was delicious. “If you are quite finished dribbling egg-based liquor all over my desk I suggest you go to bed. Up the stairs, second door on the left. I will have an elf bring you a towel and some pyjamas.”
“Oh don’t worry, I don’t wear pyjamas.” James rubbed his hand over the back of his neck smiling a little sheepishly at Draco who took a larger swig of his port. He really wished Potter hadn’t told him he would be sleeping naked only two doors down from Draco.
“Thank you for that information, Potter. Get to bed.”
“Thanks for the drink, Professor – sweet dreams.” Despite his earlier protestations James gulped back the rest of his drink, grimacing. He left the room with a broad grin in Draco’s direction, pulling a hand through his dark hair with a smile.
Draco sighed as he watched the boy leave, wondering how on earth he had ended up babysitting one of Potter’s brats when he should have been out doing something fabulous and fitting for a Malfoy. On that depressing note, he drained the last of his drink and headed up to bed.
~
“Professor?”
The thunder and lightning felt as though it was almost upon the Manor now, the lightning cracking as the thunder clapped and the rain hit the windows in hard pebbles of water, as the old house creaked and groaned in the night.
“James?” Draco had been sitting up in bed reading his book when the door opened and a rumpled looking Potter clad in green satin pyjama bottoms and nothing else stood in his bedroom doorway.
“I…don’t really like this storm. This place is bloody creepy and I feel like I’m in that poem you made me read – the one about the scary owl.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “If you are referring to Edgar Allen Poe, the bird in question was a raven you little imbecile.”
“Yeah, that’s the one!” James shuddered. “Creepy.”
“Well I suppose you can come in for a while.” Draco struggled to think of something to say while a half-naked James perched on the end of his bed looking around nervously. “My father used to sing me a song when we had thunder storms…to help me sleep.”
“Your father was an idiot by anyone’s account, Professor. Anyway, how old do you think I am? A bloody song about the Dark Arts is hardly going to help.”
“Well what exactly do you expect me to do then Potter? Give you a cuddle and save you from your nightmares?”
“Don’t do that!” James flared, glaring at Draco.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t treat me like I’m a bloody child! I hardly think of you as some sort of father figure.”
“I should hope not,” Draco looked askance. “I am much better looking than your father for a start.”
“You don’t think my father is good looking? I have been told I look rather like him.”
“James, what is this about-”
“For fucks sake!”
Before Draco could finish his sentence, James had launched into his arms and Draco felt lips, clumsy and insistent pressing against his own.
Draco hated himself for responding to the young, eager lips but as the hard body of James Potter scrabbled to get closer to his own and he could feel the boy hard through his satin pyjamas, Draco couldn’t help but pull James closer, running his palms across the muscular back and gentling the kiss.
He flipped them both over so he was lying over James, as someone moaned into the kiss, the thunderstorm all but forgotten, as he trailed his hand lower over the satin pyjamas and felt eager hips buck up towards his palm. Draco knew he probably shouldn’t be kissing Potter’s son, one of his students, but as the body beneath him thrust up towards him with an enthusiastic growl, he couldn’t say he really cared all that much about right and wrong.
James drew back for air, breathlessly, looking at Draco.
“This is brilliant, like that novel we read - the one with the professor with the same first and last name?”
Draco looked down at James, with a snort.
“If you are referring to Lolita you silly little twit, this is nothing like that situation. She was a twelve year old girl and I can assure you, I am not a pervert.” Draco sniffed and made to roll off James before finding himself flipped onto his back and full of an armful of enthusiastic Potter.
“Not even if I want you to be?”
James was definitely leering at him, Draco decided, schooling his face into a frown.
“Certainly not!”
“Pity.”
Then James was kissing him again and even though the kisses were a little clumsy, the feeling of the boy in his arms was too much for Draco to stop the kisses and send the boy back to his room. If he was going to end up Crucioed by Potter the elder and more irritating, he was determined to enjoy every last moment before that happened.
“Professor?”
“Hm?” Draco was rather busy nibbling at James’ neck and wasn’t too interested in small talk which would likely involve him correcting numerous erroneous literary references.
“Perhaps there is something else you can teach me that’s a bit more interesting than Shakespeare.” Draco felt his hand captured and pulled between their bodies, down to the hard bulge in the front of James’ pyjama bottoms.
Leaning down with a smirk and pressing his hand firmly into the hardness Draco smirked, before capturing James’ lips in another kiss.
“I would be delighted. It’s awfully nice to have such an enthusiastic student for a change.”
~Fin~
Recipient:
deathlydragonTitle: A Dark and Stormy Night
Pairing: Draco/James Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,700
Summary: Hogwarts Professor Draco Malfoy tries to help James Potter appreciate Muggle literature at the request of Minister for Magic Harry Potter who is trying to make sure his children have a broad education. A thunderstorm, a snowstorm, ego clashes and a little bit of snogging abound.
Author's Notes: Thank you to the lovely SG for the beta and I hope this is what the recipient was looking for with their prompt. All characters are above the age of consent (James Potter is eighteen).
A Dark and Stormy Night
“It was a dark and stormy night…”
Draco sighed, holding up a hand. “Honestly, Potter – it’s a bit of a cliché don’t you think?”
James scowled at Draco and gestured to the flickering candles in Malfoy Manor which cast long, eerie shadows on the walls as the thunder rumbled outside. A crack of lightening illuminated the faces of the two men just for a moment. Draco crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, waiting for James to speak.
“This whole place is a bloody cliché, Professor. I don’t know why the hell I have to study Muggle literature anyway – let alone write my own.” James frowned down at his messy scrawl and then grinned up at Draco. “I bet you could teach me some brilliant hexes.”
Draco rolled his eyes to the ceiling, watching a tiny spider spinning its web in a small crevice in the corner of the ceiling. He would have to make a house elf iron its ears for missing that.
James was still watching him, hopefully. Draco was becoming increasingly more convinced that all of the Potter men were mentally stunted. How on earth the most irritating of the whole sorry lot of them had made it to Minister, Draco would never know.
“We have discussed this, Potter. Your father, Merlin knows how, is Minister and he has asked me to tutor you in art and literature so that you are well versed in both Muggle and Wizarding culture.”
“But it’s so boring!” James pointed towards a large pile of books. “Shakespeare sucks.”
Draco looked horrified and sat up a little straighter. “He does not.”
“Does too.” James stuck out his tongue. Draco had the strangest urge to bite it.
“Merlin, you’re impossible. Perhaps something more modern…” Draco sighed and muttered ‘ingrate’ under his breath and then handed James another book. “Let’s see if this is more up your street.”
“Catcher in the Rye? Sounds stupid.” Wisely, James did not expand on his opinion as Draco bestowed the impossible little toe rag with one of his best formidable Potions Master glares.
As James began to read, Draco watched him closely. At eighteen and nearly at the end of his Hogwarts education, James was taller than his father at that age and had filled out rather nicely. He was a cocky little brat who knew more pranks than the Weasley twins put together, but he was smart enough if only he would apply himself. Draco looked at the lines of the boy’s face, the strong, set jaw and watched the movement of the boy’s lips as he read.
A particularly loud clap of thunder made Draco start. He had been so busy focusing on the boy’s face, illuminated in the soft candlelight; he had been daydreaming a little. Accompanying the clap a silvery stag charged into the room, dipping its antlers in a bow and stomping a hoofed foot impatiently.
“Malfoy! There’s a snowstorm in Warsaw - we’re surrounded by Muggles and can’t Apparate out – Can James stay with you? Thanks, I owe you one”
The stag shook its head and then turned and galloped out into the night. Draco looked at James who had stopped reading and was frowning.
“Oh, bloody hell! I have to stay here tonight? This place is creepy.”
“Yes, Potter. I find myself delighted to have to put up with an irritating teenager who doesn’t know his Bronte from his Byron when I could have been enjoying some fine single malt with a more…adult companion.”
“Hey, I’m an adult!” James bristled at this and scowled at Draco. “I wish I’d just bloody well gone to Warsaw now.”
“Well you didn’t, did you? If I recall you found the idea of supporting your father to be horribly beneath you and elected to stay in London so you could watch the Canons play today. Perhaps this will teach you to be so selfish.” Draco smirked. “I assume your father has told you about the horrible secrets buried deep in the corridors of Malfoy Manor?”
“Oh whatever, Professor.” James closed his book, obviously done with his reading for the evening.
“Did you say something about single malt?”
“Good grief.” Draco stood and walked over to a huge mahogany drinks cabinet. With a smirk he poured Potter a small measure of something sickly and yellow that a member of the Weasley clan had given him for Christmas, pouring himself a generous measure of port at the same time.
“What’s this?” James was looking at the drink with suspicion. With a shrug he took a large swig, spluttering a little. “That’s vile.”
“Yes, it is rather.” Draco smirked and savoured the port which really was delicious. “If you are quite finished dribbling egg-based liquor all over my desk I suggest you go to bed. Up the stairs, second door on the left. I will have an elf bring you a towel and some pyjamas.”
“Oh don’t worry, I don’t wear pyjamas.” James rubbed his hand over the back of his neck smiling a little sheepishly at Draco who took a larger swig of his port. He really wished Potter hadn’t told him he would be sleeping naked only two doors down from Draco.
“Thank you for that information, Potter. Get to bed.”
“Thanks for the drink, Professor – sweet dreams.” Despite his earlier protestations James gulped back the rest of his drink, grimacing. He left the room with a broad grin in Draco’s direction, pulling a hand through his dark hair with a smile.
Draco sighed as he watched the boy leave, wondering how on earth he had ended up babysitting one of Potter’s brats when he should have been out doing something fabulous and fitting for a Malfoy. On that depressing note, he drained the last of his drink and headed up to bed.
~
“Professor?”
The thunder and lightning felt as though it was almost upon the Manor now, the lightning cracking as the thunder clapped and the rain hit the windows in hard pebbles of water, as the old house creaked and groaned in the night.
“James?” Draco had been sitting up in bed reading his book when the door opened and a rumpled looking Potter clad in green satin pyjama bottoms and nothing else stood in his bedroom doorway.
“I…don’t really like this storm. This place is bloody creepy and I feel like I’m in that poem you made me read – the one about the scary owl.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “If you are referring to Edgar Allen Poe, the bird in question was a raven you little imbecile.”
“Yeah, that’s the one!” James shuddered. “Creepy.”
“Well I suppose you can come in for a while.” Draco struggled to think of something to say while a half-naked James perched on the end of his bed looking around nervously. “My father used to sing me a song when we had thunder storms…to help me sleep.”
“Your father was an idiot by anyone’s account, Professor. Anyway, how old do you think I am? A bloody song about the Dark Arts is hardly going to help.”
“Well what exactly do you expect me to do then Potter? Give you a cuddle and save you from your nightmares?”
“Don’t do that!” James flared, glaring at Draco.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t treat me like I’m a bloody child! I hardly think of you as some sort of father figure.”
“I should hope not,” Draco looked askance. “I am much better looking than your father for a start.”
“You don’t think my father is good looking? I have been told I look rather like him.”
“James, what is this about-”
“For fucks sake!”
Before Draco could finish his sentence, James had launched into his arms and Draco felt lips, clumsy and insistent pressing against his own.
Draco hated himself for responding to the young, eager lips but as the hard body of James Potter scrabbled to get closer to his own and he could feel the boy hard through his satin pyjamas, Draco couldn’t help but pull James closer, running his palms across the muscular back and gentling the kiss.
He flipped them both over so he was lying over James, as someone moaned into the kiss, the thunderstorm all but forgotten, as he trailed his hand lower over the satin pyjamas and felt eager hips buck up towards his palm. Draco knew he probably shouldn’t be kissing Potter’s son, one of his students, but as the body beneath him thrust up towards him with an enthusiastic growl, he couldn’t say he really cared all that much about right and wrong.
James drew back for air, breathlessly, looking at Draco.
“This is brilliant, like that novel we read - the one with the professor with the same first and last name?”
Draco looked down at James, with a snort.
“If you are referring to Lolita you silly little twit, this is nothing like that situation. She was a twelve year old girl and I can assure you, I am not a pervert.” Draco sniffed and made to roll off James before finding himself flipped onto his back and full of an armful of enthusiastic Potter.
“Not even if I want you to be?”
James was definitely leering at him, Draco decided, schooling his face into a frown.
“Certainly not!”
“Pity.”
Then James was kissing him again and even though the kisses were a little clumsy, the feeling of the boy in his arms was too much for Draco to stop the kisses and send the boy back to his room. If he was going to end up Crucioed by Potter the elder and more irritating, he was determined to enjoy every last moment before that happened.
“Professor?”
“Hm?” Draco was rather busy nibbling at James’ neck and wasn’t too interested in small talk which would likely involve him correcting numerous erroneous literary references.
“Perhaps there is something else you can teach me that’s a bit more interesting than Shakespeare.” Draco felt his hand captured and pulled between their bodies, down to the hard bulge in the front of James’ pyjama bottoms.
Leaning down with a smirk and pressing his hand firmly into the hardness Draco smirked, before capturing James’ lips in another kiss.
“I would be delighted. It’s awfully nice to have such an enthusiastic student for a change.”
~Fin~
no subject
Date: 2012-01-22 02:31 pm (UTC)