Author: tigersilver
Title: HD 'Rare Birds'
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1500
Warnings: Voyeurism. Hogwarts; AU. In honour of a few fangirls I know:)
A drabble only and likely needs polish. My fingers are doing the talking, but with this wee little keyboard of mine, they do tend to slur! Plz forgive!

HD Rare Birds

It was the arch of long narrow foot in a grey sock, pinstriped a narrow green; it was the bend of Harry's denim-clad knee, slung over a protruding hipbone, and the narrow strip of pale flesh exposed when it shifted; Malfoy's sinfully elegant hands feathering about, at work gathering Harry closer: touching him, touching him, touching him.

It was a blonder-than-bottle-blond fringe intermingled with a sooty shadowed tumble, separate disingenuous hairs sticking inelegantly to foreheads and tangling into bi-coloured knots at the ends. Drifting and sifting as they moved, hush-hiss, fabric sliding: white rook and black knight, or perhaps only the negative image of one another.

It was Malfoy and Harry, in the Gryffindor Common Room, shamelessly tangled together on the divan before the empty hearth.

Lavender, poised to barge, nearly squealed at the Fat Lady's hasty 'Shhh!' She sighed instead, taking in the view; a long, satisfied, surprised exhalation, and it was so hushed that even in the quiet of the room it went unheard.

Parvati, pushing unheeding from just behind her, nearly gave the game away but Lav pinched her wrist just in time, warning.

"Look!" Lav muttered, rolling her eyes, and the girls drew close together, huddling in a knot of delight, and as if the mass of them by the doorway would be somehow less visible than their two distinctly excited beings.

"Merlin!" Parvati breathed back, barely breathing at all—Malfoy had his wand tucked up his sleeve and a hand like Malfoy's could be on it in an instant, ready for business. "Oh, Merlin, Lav! Do you see?"

But it was delicious, even so. Both sets of sparkling eyes proclaimed it.

Harry's shirt was half-unbuttoned, his summer robes slung carelessly across the farther arm of the sofa. Malfoy's collar gaped wide open; Parvati and Lav could clearly make out the reddened dampness of the smooth skin revealed there. It was obvious who was to blame for it—Harry's mouth was yet moving silently, lips parted and swollen, even as they observed him bite down on a taut tendon, utterly enthralled.

Black sock, with a hint of a hole at the seam of big toe. It was curling repeatedly, in tune with every long tender-frantic sweep of Malfoy's palm down Harry's flexing spine. The ankle bone of the foot dug into Malfoy's waist, clambering at it as if to mount; Lavender's jaw dropped as Malfoy's hips instinctively arched outward in a jerky thrust, pressing Harry's arse firmly against the back cushions.

Where was the seam between one and the other? The lines of separation, the salted furrows?

There were none—only sighs and soft gasps...panting. The faint sound that could've been '—rry!' and the answering moan when Malfoy thrust a narrow red tongue, glistening with saliva, hot and heavy in Harry's one ear.

Malfoy groaned, deep and dark and rich, like chocolate—or perhaps it was Harry. Fortunately, the sound of it—plus the never-ending rustle and rumple as they shifted yet again, perpetually in motion—disguised the arrival of the third girl.

"Rare birds," Hermione nodded sagely. "Never caught them at it before," she added, maybe or maybe not grudgingly. But her eyes were nearly as greedy-bright as the avid gazes of the other two.

"Yes!" Parvati mouthed; Lav only nodded fervently, mouth open in an awed 'Oooh!'

It was a group of three to see; three Witches to witness: narrow fingers clutching at ruffled nape and heaving ribcage and waist, thrusting beneath wrinkled shirting, dipping betwixt and between coarse cloth and skin. The sight of Harry blind and seeking, his eyelids shut so tight in anticipation, they wrinkled into delicate folds.

The smear of saliva across stubble; the frantic loosening of buttons. Even the vision of Malfoy's fingers finding and drawing down the butt of his wand didn't shift them, so rapt were they.

"Brassed-off birds—if they catch you peeping!" hissed the fourth and final spectator. She swung her blunt bobbed hair in a dark swirl and toss. "Come along, shift your nosy arses out, you three, and shut the door behind you. Draco will hex you blind and bald if he sees us here!"

Shooed, they scuttled out, one by one in duckling order, gathering in a loosely cohesive group in the deserted corridor. The Fat Lady glared a scowling warning, locking the door right-and-tight immediately behind them and nearly catching Pansy's dragging heel in the process.

"But, it was sooo…ah!" Lav sighed contentedly, in the safety of the hallway. She sagged against the rough hewn stone of the Gryffindor corridor wall, just a pace from the Fat Lady's frame, her expression dreamy. "The way they—and Malfoy's tongue—oh, and Harry! Did you see?"

"Oh, I know!" Parvati's ebon-chocolate eyes were starry, brilliant with speculation and curiosity both. "Wasn't it?"

"Mmmm," Hermione mumbled, cheeks a brilliant scarlet and sporting a very odd look about her—half horrendously embarrassed, half exquisitely sated. "Um, well…"

"Salazar!" Pansy scolded them, shaking a vicious know-it-all finger. She sneered at them, mocking, all Slyth and Pureblood princess but still with a hint of slight amusement. "You're purely horrid, you great filthy cows, panting after those two like that. Like sodding Hufflepuffs; have you no respect?"

"But, Pans, I've never even seen anything like—" Lav burst out, only to be abruptly hushed by a hand clapped tight across her lipsticked lips. "Mmphff!"

"Shh!" Hermione glared, eyes like Muggle laser beams and sights trained unerringly to Lav's widened ones. "They'll hear you! Malfoy's got wards up; I could just make them out. Be quiet!"

"Of course he does, Muggle Brain," Pansy winked. "He's not a total idiot—not like your precious Potter. Now, come along to mine, will you? No one's there; the rest are all down at Hogsmeade village still—and I've a stash of firewhisky Blaise left me I've been saving up for an occasion."

"Ooh!" Parvati's eyes narrowed considering. "Just like this, then, right? Because it really is one-an occasion, Harry and Malfoy, ah, ah, like that. I mean to say, that's not a sight you get to see every day!"

"Maybe you don't," Pansy mocked, "but I do, darling. Where ever do you Gryffindorks think they go when they want some privacy? Slytherin, of course!"

"Hmm," Hermione nodded wisely. "I did wonder, actually."

"Well, now you know, don't you?"

"Really? You've firewhisky laid in?" Lav wanted to know, pushing her shoulder off the wall with a tiny rolling jerk. "That's a sure sight better than any old feeble butterbeer! What're we waiting for, then? That was certainly something worth celebrating! Let's go, girls. I'm thinking I want a nice strong drink, after that."

"Well…" Hermione shook her once neatly braided mass of hair; it was late and curly tendrils were escaping in every direction. "I don't know if I should. It's been a long day already—"

"Yes, it has," Pansy smirked, "and there'll be more of the same tomorrow, I shouldn't wonder. It's already almost the end of July, darling—remember? We've only just one bloody month left to us all to set the remainder of this damned pile of a falling-down-'round-our-heads Castle back together. I say we deserve a little R & R, don't you think?"

"I am a little thirsty yet, thanks—" Parvati allowed, obviously partial to the plan but with lips quirked dubiously.

"And gods! That was a sight for sore eyes, wasn't it? Parvati?" Lav was simply boiling over with barely-pent fervour; caring not a dram for the exact location of the aforementioned firewhisky as long as it was made freely available. She bounced just a wee bit on the very balls of her slippered toes, giddy. "I swear I positively need a tot of something strong, just to settle my gut! I mean, I'm still so excited, even now I'm not staring right at them! They were so, so hard-all that muscle, and Malfoy's neck, and half naked-and did you see the way they snogged? Merlin, my heart's beating away like a mad thing!"

"Nnn, yesss! Hot!" Parvati nodded furiously, flapping a hand at her heated cheeks. "So very, very hot! Fiendfyre hot! Oh-my-gods, yes! It was!"

The two giggled like loons, poking shiny heads together and beginning without hesitation the long slow stroll down to the dungeon levels, the sacred sanctum of smirk; only Hermione held back, shuffling her feet and at a slow mosey.

"Erm..." she mumbled, seeming torn. That had been her best male friend and her ancient enemy, sticky and making animalistic noises and absolutely on the verge of getting down-and-dirty on her Common Room couch. She lifted a narrow shoulder; let it fall. "Uh..."

The lone Slytherin amongst them wasn't having any of that wishy-washy nonsense; leastways not from Granger, the untrumpeted Queen of Bustle About.

"Come on, Granger," Pansy cajoled, twinkling and arch. "You know you want to—and it's not as if you can go back and burst in on them. They wouldn't thank you for it."

"Mmm," Hermione hummed, unconvinced. "But..."

"They'll be wanting their privacy; you know that," Pans wheedled, "and you'll be wanting a drinkie-poo, I imagine. I know for fact you Reparo'd the First Floor bathrooms all by your heroic lonesome today; no help at all from your gingery boyfriend. Aren't you feeling just a wee bit parched?"

"Well…" Hermione hesitated but one second longer and then abruptly relented, brown eyes brilliant. With a mad little giggle, too, bubbling off her rueful lips like shaken champagne and just as airy-light and explosive. "It was smoking scorching, wasn't it? The two of them, with their britches half down their thighs and the way they were just-just? And I've never seen Harry look quite like that-not ever! Debauched, and...and completely abandoned. Didn't even think he could!"

"Oh, yes!" Pansy's sharp features was eager; her very nose quivered: the Slytherin had vanished, subsumed by 'fan girl'. "And did you catch Draco's expression? Poor sod! He's completely arse-mad for Potter; could barely wait to yank his pants down and dive in!"

She snorted happily at the memory; her words instantly set the other three to catching their breath and sighing languidly; and then Parkinson giggled, a low-pitched, sultry sort of chuckle, as if to intimate she still knew far more about Harry and Malfoy than they ever might. Grinning ever wider at her blushing opposite number, Pansy cocked her chin in silent challenge.

"You know, if you toddle along with us now, my dear old Mud Brain, I'll tell you all I know," Pansy promised slyly. "All about the two of them and what they get up to in our Common Room when they think no one's watching them...but only provided you play Truth or Dare with us."

"Oh! Er?"

"It's a time-honoured Slytherin tradition, Granger," Pansy added quickly. "How d'you think Draco and your Potty got their silly guy arses jump-started, eh? It wasn't playing Snap, I can tell you!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows high and flyaway, a la Mister Malfoy style, and was clearly startled.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I do see now. Yes, that makes sense."

"Oh, gods, yes-details!" Parvati moaned, her excited grin a white slash across her lovely café-au-lait coloured features. She glowed, as did Lavender, right beside her. "Do promise you'll tell us absolutely everything, Pansy! I need details-lashings and lashings of them! And—and, do you really think they were actually going to—to do it? Right there in our Common Room!"

"But of course," Pansy swung her bobbed curtain of hair again quite decisively: all knowing, all seeing. "If I know Draco-and I do, believe me-they totally were. You can bet on it, girls; Draco doesn't faff about when it comes to the good shite. And your Potter's probably gagging after it, too. Likely shagging as we speak, I expect."

"My. God! My gods, oh-my-gods!" Lav's giggle was infectious; she staggered a bit, shooting an awed glance back the way they'd come, as if the Fat Lady guarded a treasure trove indescribably valuable. It was only Parvati's quick hand that kept her upright and walking. "Shagging now? On the divan we all use? Oh! My poor nose is going to bleed absolute buckets if you don't stop teasing us, Parkinson! And your Mister Malfoy, girl? Fucking bloody effin' fit, he is! Did you see that bulge? Impressive!"

"Uh-huh," Pansy nodded, smiling. "Oh, yes, Brown, I've seen that bulge. And you're just now noticing?"

"Well, I never realized, really," Lav shrugged half-heartedly, grimacing. "Harry's always said he was such a pointy git, so…you know. Didn't really think of him like that."

"Pointy like he's packing a full-blown stiffie, more like," Pansy sniggered gleefully. "Pointy like he's cocked and loaded for bear! Eight lovely long thick inches, ladies, stem to stern, maybe more! And it's surely all fired up and ready to roger your wee Saint to itty-bitty smithereens. He'll be nothing but lust particles after, yes?"

"Oh. My. Gods!" Parvati's turn to pale and stumble; a quick-thinking shoulder bump from her best mate Lav kept her moving in the proper direction. "My fucking Merlin, Pansy!"

Pansy was positively wreathed in smarm; positively gracious with it.

"Yep, mark my words, my lovely Lionesses, Draco's likely already got your Scarhead down to skin by now...and spread wide open! Considering the rate he was moving, I'm sure of it. Chew on that, you mouth-breathers! Can you picture what I'm thinking here?"

"Guh." Lavender blushed to a million candle-power, her face flaming. Another detour, as she bounced gently off a passing wall. "Oh! Gahhh!"

Parvati gulped hard, resuming her furious fanning.

"Oh, you!" she shot back, flouncing just a little. "And you dare say we're the awful ones!"

"Quiet, you three!" Hermione hissed in warning, even as she flushed completely scarlet, shoving forward from her lagging position to the rear, where she'd been dutifully bringing up the caboose-end of the little troupe of Witches. "No talking about any of it till we're safe in Slytherin Common Room! Walls have ears, you know? There's likely still some of the younger ones sneaking about, even at this late hour. They'll overhear us and then they'll gossip, I guarantee it, and if Harry doen't murder us all tomorrow morning, I'm sure your bloody Malfoy won't hesitate for an instant, Parkinson!"

"Meh. Likely not."

"Oh!" Parvati shivered at the prospect, not nearly so sanguine as her cold-blooded mate. "Good point, Hermione! Malfoy can still be awfully nasty. Let's get on, then, yeah? Hurry it up a notch. No sense in hanging about here."

"Precisely."

"Oh, absolutely," Pansy winked. "You've got that spot-on, Granger. Haste isn't always waste, is it?"

That sally earned her a reluctant grin from Hermione, who dropped her muffling hand from Lav's purpling cheeks and finally allowed her dormmate to walk on.

"'Sides, it's not as if we'll have any chance to see more of them tonight, anyway," a breathless Lav whinged, lifting her hair off her pinkened face in a resigned fashion and flapping pink-polished nails. She sighed deeply and loud, clearly feeling oppressed. "And, too, you three, I don't believe the Fat Lady's planning on letting us back in Gryffindor—not for a good long while, at least. She's terribly fond of Harry, you know? He's always being handed all sorts of favours from her.

"He's earned them!" Hermione squeaked indignantly.

"May as well drink then," Pansy quipped, "if we can't dance. Right, ladies?"

"Mmm.." Parvati nodded. "Okay."

"Oh, yeah!" Lavender seconded enthusiastically. "Definitely!"

"Well...alright. If you insist." Hermione squared her shoulders and prepared to brave the subterranean elements.

"Come on, then..Laggards."

They trailed off down the corridor, a gaggle of noisy, chattering harpies (or so Malfoy would likely call them; Harry would only blush persimmon and tug feebly at his too-tight collar), with damp knickers and pinkly-flushed smiling faces all.

Rare birds, indeed: Malfoy and Harry. And now most definitely sighted, noted and ID'd...in their own particular sort of wild.

Finite