Title: Arizona Iced Tea
Author(s): Eris Mackenzie and Moocow
Rating: M
Warnings: Adult language and explicit m/m sexual situations (PWP)
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various published including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The song and lyrics for "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd are owned solely by their respective owners and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Arizona Iced Tea © is not owned by the author in any way, shape, or form.
Summary: Harry and Draco. Road trip style.
A/N: Thank the Relay for Life for this little ficclet. It was thought up (though don't ask me how) while walking around a track for about two hours. Haha, so go fight against cancer!
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Harry thanked the gods for air conditioning yet again as he watched the Lexus' digital thermometre rise another notch. It was now a sweltering 103 degrees Fahrenheit. Heat waves were visible and could be seen rippling in the air above the long, cracked expanse of grey pavement. Route 201, running through the Cahoda Desert between the south-eastern towns of Roderville and New Charlotte, stretched on for miles in every direction the naked eye could see.
He winced when he peeled the sweaty backs of his thighs from the cream-coloured leather interior. The artificially cooled air blew full force, but his tan cargo shorts had ridden up during the course of the already five hour ride and had firmly attached his skin to the leather; air conditioning was no match for the near glue like effects.
Beside him in the passenger seat sat a blond man, his friend Draco Malfoy. He was gazing quietly at the rather monotonous landscape past a curtain of sun-bleached hair that cut like a soft razor across his cheekbones. The flat, parched earth that was flying by was dusted with a layer of sandy beige and did not break its droning spell bar the occasional jutting boulder, buzzing road kill, or floating tumbleweed. Draco's fingers were drumming some unknown song against his jean-clad knee; even in this weather he refused to wear shorts. All in all, he still appeared to be the very picture of European dignity, so out-of-place in the stifling desert. Harry knew that just about the one thing that was common about him were the faint, beige freckles that scattered across his nose in the summer.
After putting past their silly school rivalries, Harry and Draco had become fast friends in what could be called a very quirky and unexpected relationship. But then, Harry had always managed to do the unconventional. Once they had gotten to know one another, there was nary a place Harry went that Draco was not also, and vice versa. It, too, helped that Draco was particularly generous when it came to giving gifts to those he actually liked - even if that trait had to extend to Ron to please Harry. In fact, the silver Lexus they were riding in now had been a present for Harry's twenty-sixth birthday just last month.
Harry glanced down at the gas gauge. The neon green needle behind the dashboard was hitting dangerously close to the empty marker. He sighed and stole a quick look at Draco.
"We're going to need to stop somewhere soon. We're almost out of petrol," Harry stated.
Draco snorted, not taking his eyes off of the road. "We are in the middle of the fucking Twilight Zone, Potter. We haven't seen road kill in the last hour, let alone a petrol station. What are we going to do - milk it out of a cactus? Merlin knows there are enough of them out here."
"Hey," Harry defended, "you're the one who wanted to go this way."
"Maybe," Draco admitted, "but you were the one who lost the directions to the hotel that Mudblood and Weasel gave you. Not only that, but you wanted to do this the Muggle way. Honestly, Potter, we could have Apparated there fifty times and back if you weren't so bloody stubborn about wanting to live out your little road trip fantasy."
He flicked his hair back from his eyes and, after the strands fell back to where they were originally, flopped back against the seat, giving up all manner of decorum.
"Why the hell we had to holiday in Hell On Earth of all places when there was a perfectly good room at the Villa de la Fleur just waiting for us in La Rochelle, I'll never know."
"We're on holiday in California," Harry emphasized, "and we didn't go to the Villa because we go to France every year."
Obviously, this was something that had been discussed many times before, from the exasperated tone of Harry's voice.
"Plus it's a nice change, and you know how Fred and George have been begging us to come out and visit ever since they moved here." Harry gave Draco a pointed look. "And how many times have I told you not to call them that?" he added, almost as an afterthought.
"Too many times for your teeny little brain to remember, obviously," Draco miffed, "and they call me 'Ferret' all the time, but I don't see you telling them to shut it." He flipped back his hair again as he turned his head to look back out at the desert landscape. "Bloody hypocrite."
Harry smiled at this childish display and could not help chuckling a little, which earned him a half-hearted glare from Draco's side.
"I do tell them to stop, but the next minute Ron's back at it because you snap something sarcastic at him," Harry condescended gently.
For a few seconds, Draco was silent. "Fine," he huffed sullenly and crossed his arms.
Harry did a double take and would have fallen over laughing if it were not for the steering wheel. "You just did a woman thing!" he blurted.
Draco looked over, scandalized. "I didn't do anything of the sort, Potter!"
"Yes, you did!" Harry persisted. "Every time a woman knows that she's wrong and doesn't want to admit it, she'll just give you that look and say, 'Fine!'. What a pansy, you - pansy!"
"Ooh, getting creative with your insults, are you?" Draco wiggled his fingers at Harry, who stuck out his tongue. He gave him a stony look. "And I am not a pansy."
"Are so!" Harry laughed. "I've never seen anyone swish their hair so much in a half an hour."
"It's not swishing, Potter, honestly." Draco stuck his nose up in the air, making Harry resume his laughing tenfold at the air of Indignant Bastard that he gave off. The blond, predictably, ignored him and said, "It's called making sure you don't look like a bird just nested in your hair." He looked pointedly over at Harry's own tangled mop.
Harry wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. "Oh, come off it, Malfoy. Who's going to see you anyway? We're in the middle of a desert. It's not like you'd see anyone here, let alone a person you actually know."
"Still," the blond sniffed, "it's better than being unprepared."
Harry rolled his eyes but let it drop. "Whatever you say, Malfoy, whatever you say."
They lapsed into companionable silence after that until Harry reached over some time later and flicked on the radio. Immediately, the sound of a booming southern voice and static filled the air of the car.
"And then the Lord said unto the angel Gabriel, 'Hail Mary, for she shall -"
Harry snickered as he watched the expression on Draco's face change from indifferent to disgusted.
"Turn it off," Draco interrupted loudly.
"Oh, what, Malfoy, can't take a little Muggle religion, now?" Harry teased, knowing full well that had been all the radio played every time they had turned the damned thing on.
Draco gave him a cross look. "Shut up, Potter. That crap has been playing for the last four days. Four days." He shivered delicately and turned his head again. "I'd rather curse my ears off than listen to that again."
Harry laughed again and rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder about you..." He reached over nevertheless and pressed 'seek'.
Most of the stations were either outdated eighties hip hop, country (Draco had threatened to turn the radio off completely if Harry did not change it), or were too full of static to understand a single word the announcers said. Harry sighed and was about to give up and shut the power off when he found a clear channel. The mellow, warm tones of Ronnie Van Zant soon filled the car.
"Ahhh..." Harry smiled as he leaned back in his seat and positioned his hands more comfortably on the steering wheel. "I love this song."
Draco looked over curiously. "What is it?"
"'Simple Man' by Lynyrd Skynyrd."
At Draco's blank look, Harry blanched.
"You've never heard of it?" Harry asked incredulously.
Draco merely shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair, succeeding in only temporarily moving the strands.
"I didn't...listen to music much when I was younger."
There was a hint of sadness in his voice for only the barest of moments, but Harry still caught it. Indeed, Draco had not done much of anything except follow orders when he was younger. In the five years that they had been friends, this much Harry had found out.
Harry took his right hand from the steering wheel and reached out. His hand landed on the knob of Draco's shoulder before crawling up his neck to nest in the nape of his hair. For a few seconds Draco tensed, but with Harry's fingers playing the role of masseur Harry soon felt the blond relax and lean back into the touch. He rubbed the pads of his fingers into the knotted muscles of Draco's neck that had cramped from hours of being in the same position continually. With a soft sigh, Draco's head lolled toward Harry, and he cupped his cheek in Harry's palm.
"Still tired?" Harry asked softly.
The day before they had had quite a bit of trouble with the manager of the last dumpy hostel they had been forced to stay at. The grumpy and rather dingy old man had barked at them for about ten minutes about maintaining the state of the room they had rented out. Draco had pointed out some choice things about the room and ended up in an argument that had gotten them kicked out. The result was that they had slept in the Lexus the whole night.
With a small nod, Draco took Harry's hand in his own and slid it off his shoulder to lie on the armrest between them. He yawned widely and stretched as much as he could within the confines of the car. His wrinkled shirt rode up, and his fingers curled. Harry smiled at the rumpled sight Draco made.
"Why don't you take a nap?" Harry suggested. "I know you didn't get any rest last night because of your fuming."
For a second it seemed like Draco would protest, but finally he nodded.
"Yeah, I guess I should," he said. "Just make sure to wake me if we find a stop."
Harry snorted; the possibilities of that happening anytime within the next half an hour to an hour were slim. All the same, he agreed anyway.
"Alright," Harry promised and grinned when Draco just snorted and turned his head back towards the window. Draco pressed in the button to adjust the seat and sighed when the whirl stopped to signal he was satisfied with the angle at which it was tilted. His breathing grew deep and even within the next few minutes.
Harry smiled at the voice singing on the radio and tapped his fingers in time with the tune. His humming was soft and filled the car with a faint, soothing sound. Outside the sun burned hotly but inside was perfect.
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"Draco. Draco!"
Draco mumbled and groaned. "What?" He shuffled to the side of his seat and twisted, hearing his back crack in a couple of places.
"Found a petrol station," Harry answered.
"Smashing," Draco muttered, eyes still closed. Being yanked from a deep, albeit a little uncomfortable, sleep was not something he appreciated.
"Draco, get up."
"But why?" Draco whined. Harry chuckled a little bit at Draco's obvious displeasure and the cranky tone of his voice.
"Because I need someone to watch the car while I go to the loo," Harry replied. Draco shifted to one side when Harry pressed his foot to the brake, and the car started to slow down.
"I thought you were only going to get gas. And why would you need someone -"
Draco opened his eyes. He took in the dirty shack, busted 'GAS' sign, and single rusted pump and gaped.
"Abso-lute-ly not, Potter." Draco shook his head. "I will not stop here."
He caught sight of a row of what appeared to be dried chicken feet hanging in the window and pointed enthusiastically.
"There, see! That is why we should not stop here! Gods, if I knew all Americans were this vulgar, I would have tied you up, gagged you, and forced you to Apparate alongside. No magic, my arse. We are not stopping here."
Harry shot him a glare. "And where else will we get petrol in the middle of the desert, may I ask, oh Prince of Pansies and Prissiness?"
"I don't care," Draco sniffed. "Anywhere else would be just peachy. And I am not a bloody pansy!"
"Draco, we're stopping," Harry growled through gritted teeth.
"No." Draco crossed his arms and huffed. "Just-just look at the place! There's probably decaying corpses out back. This is just like one of those cheap horror films that take place out in the middle of nowhere, which, may I point out, is exactly where we are. Some crazy old coot missing a nose and all but three teeth will come out swinging at innocent bystanders such as myself with a rusted hatchet and eat me for dinner! Do you want that to happen? Do you?"
"For Merlin's sake, Draco, don't piss your pants." Harry rolled his eyes as he eased the car into the small turn it took to get off the road and onto the beaten patch of desert that the petrol station stood on. Admittedly, Harry thought it looked a little creepy too, but they really needed some fuel. Harry slowed the car to a stop beside the single old-fashioned '50's pump and turned the key.
"Okay, beautiful, watch the car," Harry said as he opened the door latch.
Draco scrunched his nose. "Why you feel the need to have someone watch the car when it is completely obvious that there's no one around to steal it anyway is entirely unseen to me."
Harry sighed and pointed to a rusty red pickup truck tucked just behind the shack like building. "There has to be someone here. I'll be right back."
Harry tugged his wallet out of the little mesh bag hanging from the side of his seat and shut the door. He opened the zipper as he walked slowly toward the rundown building and counted out about forty dollars. He sighed; that would be enough. Luckily his car was not a petrol-sucking whore, unlike someone else's vehicle he could mention.
Harry glanced up and slowly pushed against the door of the building. It squeaked open with a tinkling of old chimes hung above the doorway.
"Hello? Hello?" Harry called as he made his way toward the ramshackle front desk. "Is anybody here?"
There did not appear to anyone in the building, but just when he had chimed the small silver bell on the desk, he heard an odd grunting from beneath the desk.
He stepped back, startled, as a voice ground out, "What d'ya wan'?"
"Oh-uh..." Harry hurriedly forced himself to wipe the shocked look off his face as he found himself face-to-face with a man startlingly resembling the horror freak that Draco had described; the only difference was that that this man still had his nose. "I-we needed to buy some petrol."
"Petrol? What's tha'?" The old man leered suspiciously.
"Er, gasoline?" Harry quickly thought through and found the American synonym.
"Oh, gas-o-line, yeah, we gots summa tha'," the man nodded wisely. "How much you wantin'?"
"Uh, about thirty-five dollars worth," Harry said, taking out the counted money. He tried not to squirm away from the man's touch as he handed over the paper notes. "...Go ahead and, er, keep the change."
The old man merely grunted, shoved the forty dollars into his oil-stained overalls, and went back to whatever he had been doing. Harry backed away slowly before jetting out of the doorway.
As Harry got back under the scorching heat, he quickly glanced around. He considered hurrying up, getting the fuel, and high-tailing it out of there as fast as he could, take a piss or be damned, but his bladder just was not relenting.
'There has to be a lavatory around here,' he thought. 'I swear I saw it driving in...'
A flash of dull metal caught his eye and the faded block letters spelling 'BATHROOM' missing half of the 'H' and second 'O' signalled him over. He spotted Draco shuffling a deck of wizard cards on the dashboard as he passed by and, after getting his attention, pointed toward the loo. Draco merely squinted his eyes and read the sign before nodding dismissively.
The instant Harry got in the loo, he wrinkled his nose at the state of it.
There was not a millimetre that was not covered in dirt or grime. The cracked floor tiles may have at one time been blue but now had faded to a sick looking grey. There were three stalls, but judging from the condition of the outside doors Harry opted to use the single stained and filthy urinal at the opposite end of the room.
Harry amused himself as he rinsed his hands by reading the graffitti scrawled at random intervals by people who had come and gone over the years.
"Roses are red, Violets are blue, I wash my hands, So should you," Harry read out loud then snorted. Hhm...at least he rhymed. He caught sight of the date-- '48--and whistled low. Wow, this place was old.
He was just looking around to see if there was anything beside his clothes to dry his hands on when the door squeaked open, and in popped his favourite blond.
"Whew! Don't Americans know how to clean a bloody lavatory?" was Draco's greeting.
"Draco, didn't I tell you to wait in the car?" Harry said, annoyed.
"I know," Draco replied as he scrunched his nose at the dingy washbasin, "but I had to go to the loo, too." He took another look around and grimaced. "Gods, this place is disgusting!"
"Yes, I hadn't noticed," Harry stated dryly as he finally gave up on his search and dried his hands off on the front of his trousers.
"No, really, it's really despicable how dirty it is. Like this, for example," Draco pointed to a mysterious reddish-brown spot that had dried and was flaking off the side of the sink. "that could very well give you AIDs or something just as ghastly."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I doubt it unless you sliced open a vein and rubbed it on there."
"All the same," Draco said. "Someone should be put under the guillotine for letting this place get so filthy."
"The guillotine?" Harry sniggered. "Who the hell uses that word who isn't French and from the 1700s?"
Draco looked highly offended before he sniffed delicately and said, "Don't be so jealous of my intelligence, Potter. It's not healthy."
"Sure. Intelligence, my arse," Harry grunted.
Draco merely ignored him this time and crossed the short distance to the urinal Harry had just used and went about unzipping his jeans. After he finished up his business, he came to the sink and turned on the faucet.
"You have something on your glasses," Draco commented wryly as he stuck his hands under the mercifully clear water.
Harry squinted at his reflection. "I don't see anything."
"Well, you wouldn't, imbecile," Draco scoffed. "Your eyes are too close to the lenses. Take them off first."
Harry did as he was told, squinting, but shook his head. "I still don't see anything," he said.
Draco sighed exasperatedly and turned toward Harry. "Here, give them to me," he commanded.
Harry shuffled closer and handed over his spectacles. Draco rubbed at them with the hem of his shirt until the spot was gone.
"There we go," he said softly as he tilted them up and slid them back on Harry's face.
Harry blinked owlishly at him as Draco slid the tips of his fingers tinglingly down the sides of his cheeks and steepled them at the curve of his chin. Harry shivered when Draco's hands curled around his neck and pulled him down for a sweet kiss.
"Mmm, it's been a while, hasn't it?" Harry intoned gently when Draco pulled back. When Draco nodded, Harry tugged him closer and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist.
"Yeah." Draco traced a small picture against Harry's chest with his fingertip and smiled faintly. "Well, we've been too tired from being on the road dawn 'til dusk. Motel beds are not exactly what I'd call comfortable for extracurricular activities."
"Haha," Harry laughed. "Yeah, you're right about that."
"Damn right, I am," Draco replied forcefully and kissed him again.
Harry could feel from the curve of Draco's lips that he was smiling, and he had to force down a grin lest he mess the shape for kissing. Draco's tongue was still tainted with cinnamon from their late breakfast/lunch, and his body was a welcome weight against Harry's.
Harry hummed contentedly in his throat and pulled Draco closer, pressing the flat panes of their chests together.
Within the one or two minutes that they kissed, Harry got ridiculously horny - and he was not the only one. As he twisted Draco around until his buttocks bumped against the rim of the sink, he felt the length of Draco's healthy, growing erection brush against his thigh.
"My, Draco, excited much?" Harry chuckled in between kisses as he reached a hand down to stroke the blond lightly through his jeans.
"Oh, gods, yeah." Draco broke off from Harry's lips and laughed slightly. He started rubbing himself up and down on Harry's palm. Harry found himself becoming rapidly hard as he felt Draco's teeth nip at his earlobe. His deft, agile tongue flickered a line from the sensitive hollow behind Harry's ear across the underside of his jaw. Harry caught Draco's lips and sucked hard on his tongue, enjoying the wash of faint flavours that rolled over his taste buds.
"What are we doing?" Draco mumbled as Harry flicked open first Draco's collar button, then the second, then the third, all the way down until he shoved the cloth aside to gently suckle on one pert, roseate nipple. Harry heard Draco hiss an exclamation through his teeth when he teasingly bit the sensitive piece of flesh.
"What do you think?" Harry said.
It took Draco a second to formulate any string of rational thought when Harry moved his attentions to the other nipple.
"I-I…but…we can't," Draco protested feebly, trying to push away Harry's head. "We're in the middle of an…ahh…a loo. We-we…"
Harry, however, would not be moved. He merely looked up from his work and blessed Draco with a feral smile before he went back to his pleasure attack on Draco's skin. What more objections Draco might have had were wiped away with the sight of Harry down on his knees in front of him, his hands skilfully undoing his buckle with polished speed.
"Just enjoy it, Draco."
Draco groaned and widened the stance between his legs as he clutched the sides of the sink behind him and used it as a standing support; it seemed his knees were picking now to go out. The sound of his zipper going down made Draco's stomach tighten in anticipation. Draco tilted his head down to look at Harry's radiant face filled with almost childlike glee as he fiddled with Draco's briefs.
Finally, after trailing his fingers across the fabric-covered bulge so slowly as to make Draco bite his lip to keep from going mad, Harry untucked Draco's cock. Harry loved the feeling of holding Draco this way, every beat of the blond's heart pulsing in Harry's palm.
Draco thought he would die when Harry smiled up at him with fiendish delight and, in one quick duck of his head, took nearly the whole of him into the velvet cavern of his mouth.
Feeling like his own saliva was trying to choke him, Draco could barely breathe as Harry's head bobbed up and down, thrusting him against the silky slick back of Harry's throat again and again. Waves of exquisite heat throbbed throughout his body, making his lungs pant and palms prick with beads of sweat.
Harry did some unknown twisting manoeuvre with his tongue, and Draco's fingers tightened on the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white.
"Harry!" Draco gasped.
From his position kneeling on the dirty floor, Harry's encouraging, answering moans were muffled past Draco's erection. He felt Harry's fingers gently massaging the erogenous pressure points on the inside of his thighs as he pushed Draco's legs further apart. When he started playing with his ball sac, Draco very nearly came right then and there.
Abruptly, just as his vision was starting to swirl and his body began loading up for the takeoff, Harry's mouth was gone. Murderously, Draco's eyes shot open with a ready protest on his tongue but he did not have a chance. Within seconds, he was roughly turned around to face the cracked mirror. His cock pressed painfully against the sink as he felt his trousers being tugged down one-handedly. Harry's other hand (judging from the sounds of popping buttons and zippers) was busily undoing his own.
"Ouch!" Harry hissed when his finger got caught in the metal teeth. He went to instinctively suck on the digit when he felt Draco's hand grasping his own. "Oh, fuck…"
Harry closed his eyes for half a second in pure bliss as Draco sucked the injured finger into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the tip before giving it a thorough pseudo-blow job.
"Fuck me, Harry," Draco murmured, all of his previous inhibitions gone. "Fuck me hard."
His half-lidded, dilated eyes smouldered as they dared Harry, taunted him, begged him.
Harry did not know what to say. He choked on his own words when he felt Draco's teeth close around his Adam's apple gently then scrape along. His tongue bathed the 'V' juncture of Harry's collarbones in sweet, warm spit.
With sudden desperate decision and a whispered lubrication spell, Harry pressed his knuckles into Draco's initially unrelenting muscle then slid in one, then two, then three fingers. Harry crossed them in a scissor-like motion to loosen Draco up a little before he could not stand to have Draco bucking and moaning against him anymore.
"No, oh, gods, Harry, please, more!" Draco begged when that blessed pressure abruptly faded. His voice, reedy and ragged with restraint and unadulterated need, filled the pit of Harry's stomach with fire.
"Shh…" Harry murmured as he pressed a small kiss to Draco's temple.
Within mere seconds, Harry silenced Draco's desperate pleas. At first he only allowed himself to sink in just an inch or so, but after Draco linked his arms around Harry's back and promptly sucked him in further, Harry decided he really need not take so much care. This thought gave Harry abandonment, and soon he was thrusting into Draco with vehemence.
In front of him, Draco was keening high in his throat, and the sound filled Harry with more arousal than he could barely contain.
"Oh, fuck, Draco, yes…yes…" Harry breathed into the sweaty hair at the nape of Draco's neck. The blond hair there was stained a dark tapioca from the moisture beading along his skin. Harry flicked his tongue out and licked the sweat running down Draco's neck, savoured the salty-sweet taste. Merlin, did he taste good.
"Ha…rr..y…" Draco panted, desperately trying to cling to whatever sanity he had left. His lover's name spilled from his lips in stunted syllables that were barely discernable. Harry pressed hard into him in response.
All the tension was making them both shake, every moment bringing them closer and closer to a too long awaited orgasm. Every thrust and fist sliding up and down made their muscles grow tighter, forcing them to become louder, to try and push the limits.
Harry was sure he was bruising Draco's hips with his iron-fingered grasp.
Draco just wanted Harry to fuck him into a pulp.
Finally, the sounds of slapping skin and cracked moans heightened into a crescendo of heat and wet and tension and OhgodsyesHarryyesfuckDraco until suddenly it could not get any painfully exquisite lest they die for it. Harry's vision blurred infrared, and Draco's skin melted into his own as he shoved himself in as far and as hard as he could, hearing his name fall like a waterfall from Draco's lips.
"Oh…" Draco's breath exhaled in one great gasp. His whole body jerked like a puppet on a string as he came; at the very edges of his ecstasy, he felt a great surge of wet heat and knew Harry was coming too.
Some time later, about five minutes, Draco became aware of the fact that Harry was shaking. Concerned, Draco turned his head around to stare at Harry and realised within a few seconds that Harry was quivering with, not pain or anything Draco would have expected, but laughter.
"What is it?" Draco asked, confused.
"I…I just realised…what must the gas station attendant have heard?" Harry chuckled. "We forgot to lock the door, much less put up a silencing charm."
It took a moment, but soon Draco was laughing just as heartily at the sudden picture of the old man he had glimpsed at earlier, the man's face even further distorted by a look of surprise, then perhaps disgust, as he figured out what those strange moans were from.
"Oh, Merlin only knows," Draco snickered. Harry nodded, still grinning widely, and leaned over to give Draco a wet kiss.
"Mm, we should clean up," Harry suggested as he backed up. His eyebrow rose in a way reminiscent of a certain Malfoy as he pointed out the splurge of sticky white left over on the sink.
Draco laughed.
"Yeah."
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"So, how is the wine?" Hermione asked after the waiter set the entreés down on the table. To the witch's left sat Ron Weasley, and his twin brothers Fred and George. Across from them sat Draco and Harry.
Draco nodded slightly and swirled his wine in his glass. "Nice, quite fruity, actually. What do you think, Harry?"
Harr shrugged. "I don't know. I guess."
Hermione and Draco both rolled their eyes. Typical Harry answer.
After a second, Fred grunted and said, "So, how was your trip here? Fun?"
The other four occupants of the table simply shook their heads when Harry and Draco burst out laughing.
"Yeah…fun!"
The End.
A/N: So, what did you think? I would love to hear from you, comments, flames, or something in between!