Title: White Picket Fence
Author: lunaledafe
Rating: Pg-13 (for some strong language)
Pairing: Draco/ Harry
A/N: Thanks to Lundi and Oviara for giving me some ideas and sorry this is a one shot story. I was bored somewhat. And this is sorta like my first story. Thanks Lisson for being so merciful and supportive with this whole thing. I don't appreciate flames at all so if you don't like it then too bad. Pfft.
DISCLAIMER : This story is based on situations and characters from the Harry Potter books which are created and owned by J. K. Rowling, and various other publishers. No use other than entertainment is intended and no financial gain is being made. No trademark or copyright infringement is intended. These are not mine except for the part of the plot.
The air was reeking of grapefruit detergent and burnt clothing and Draco was sitting on the washer crossing his long legs with flourish, banging his heels against the repainted door and playing with a murdered dandelion. His jeans were undone to the point where I could see his neat peels of pubic hair. In his mouth was a muggle comfit where he raped it of all its sweetness. So this was the cocky delinquent I had fallen in love with.
We were assigned to a transfiguration project together. By then I had almost failed arithmancy and he'd offered to help me with a generous smile. We shook hands and made it through the sixth year while some whined and argued about their angsty teenage garbage. 'What are we now?' I asked one day. He shrugged and simply said, 'thanks Potter'. I sped to his dormitory that night and asked him to teach me how to dance no matter how 'unteachable' I was or so he called me. He gave me a free courteous session. I gave him a kiss. And Draco had ignited something inside me, something that suddenly became so clear and profound. I had seen a bit of emotion in his eyes, so genuine and raw, it almost hurt to look at them. Then he told me not to dick around with him, but by then we sounded like some bloody soap opera.
Draco told me how much he fancied cars that were not magically operated that day. I committed grand thievery that summer, nicking british car magazines and their subscriptions from my uncle. The last day of break came to pass and my uncle called me in from taming the hot lawn, gave me a yell and a beating, and rewarded me with a red, dripping dent across my forehead that even Voldemort would have been jealous of. When I climbed onto that scarlet train, Draco was waiting for me, dressed up like a neater rendition of James Dean and acting inevitably vain. I handed him the magazines and told him how much I missed him. But he stood there, letting the words melt in his throat and looked at me with polite curiosity. He saw the fresh neglected gash above my brow and demanded to know where it came from. I shrugged and he pulled me into a compartment, empty except for a napping puppy and a thropy shaft of light. Draco pushed the fringe out of my eyes and dressed the gash, never taking his eyes off me. I lied and shoved the truth into my stomach-said I was clumsy. But by then he told me not to pull that shit with him. He hugged me and blew into my ear until the backdrop became dark with mountains and ivy. Then he smoothed back my tresses and kissed my fingertips, blushing as he did so and asked me, 'are you alright?' Something had welled up in my chest making it terribly hard to breathe as my eyes began to water. He brought my face into his hands and kissed my forehead, setting our noses together. I rubbed my eyes warily and he batted my hands away scowling 'Hey now, stop that. They won't clear up in the morning.'
I glowered at him; feeling scared and buried my face into his chest. 'Since when did you give a damn about my eyes?'
He chuckled and never answered.
When we got back to class late, we pointed peccant fingers at each other and say it was his fault. I'd tell him what an irrefutable nuisance he was and he'd say I was a fucking half-blood dolt. Then I'd feel my insides crumble and deny speaking to him for days. Draco would apologize by sending me anonymous daisy chains, wilting lilies, and bits of white chocolate.
It sounds cliche, like so much of what he does, because it's the kind of thing you'd expect to read about, but never see with your own eyes.
Then we got older and serious and one night he told me how much life scared him. We stayed up all night talking until Ron came looking for me with the rest of the castle howling my name. I sat close to him, fiddling with my glasses until Draco asked if he could listen to my heartbeat. I was startled beyond words but I nodded in consent. He slept between the fork of my legs with his head nestled warmly under my chin. He enfolded me so tight the next morning I thought he had broken my ribs. When I flew into my common room early hoping to clamber into my bed and feign waking, Ron tackled me from behind while Hermione and Ginny screamed themselves hoarse. 'Where the hell were you?' Ron snarled. But I insisted that we went down for breakfast and practice quidditch.
The summer after seventh year, we stole a motorbike from Draco's father: he rolled it out of the garage while I steered. We sped down Thames Road feeling free and invincible while he purposely groped me from behind. We celebrated that night at the finest muggle steak grill, and held hands under the table. I stuck a paper cocktail umbrella behind his ear as we sipped on large Lauret sodas. Afterwards, we drove past shops smelling of spicy Italian risotto and I fed him spoonfuls of cold crème bruleé on the dusty curb. Then he asked me to dance with him behind an old movie theatre where music leaked through an air vent. Draco told me I looked fetching over the music and I asked if he would marry me because I loved him more than anything else. He kissed me almost shyly and slipped his hands into my tight trousers' pockets. When we got back, his father stood on the front lawn, mouth twitching in fury and roared at Draco like there was no tomorrow for being stupid and reckless. I prayed for his life that night.
We started seeing each other less and less because his father had sold the richly furnished Malfoy Estate early in September. I sat staring at the ceiling all-night and ached for him. By the end of winter things had changed. I'd found a boyfriend that made me happy and he found a renowned wizarding version of Nascar. Draco drove by my apartment one night and kidnapped me from my room to Farlin's Corner where we gorged on protein shakes and garden burgers. I told him how much I missed school and he messed with his Ferrari keys and said, 'I try not to think of those days y'know'. I felt guilty and wretched that night because I knew I still loved him yet I was fooling around with some other boy that happened to care more about his job.
If it was late he'd drive by and cast rocks at my window, not caring if the lady next door crowed bull at him. She said he was spoiled and he had to leave before she called the constable. Later I'd yelled at him for disturbing the peace and he'd sucked heavily on a peppermint stick and rolled his eyes.
Then one night, my boyfriend ventured by my room with a wasted young woman hanging crazily from his arms, stinking of sex. He spat in my face and left me crying shamelessly in the doorway. Early that morning I sat by a white picket fence, envying the people who led perfect lives behind them. And Draco came by with a cancer stick jutting from his mouth and lolled beside me on a discarded bumper. He looked down at me and cleaned my salt- blotted cheeks before I hid beneath his arms, trying to keep my hiccups in. Draco said he'd kill my ex-boyfriend for what he'd done but I grabbed him and kissed him with as much intensity as I could possibly muster. He looked at me as if I were the only thing that mattered. Then he ordered me to move in with him that afternoon and I did.
He tried cooking Chinese for me that night, which turned out pretty terrible but I didn't say anything, just because it felt so good to be next to him again. Draco grimaced at the fried rice and decided to call out for pizza with every single topping known to man, magical or not. He was as picky as ever and told me to use the silverware instead of my hands. I fell asleep in his arms and he said 'I'll take care of you' while we combed through four magazines dedicated under his name.
I swear I could have killed him for racing. He lost control of the wheel once and careened into a wall, breaking his bones. The medi-wizards were there tending to his every need but I refused to look at him even though he said I didn't care about him. He tried apologizing but I wouldn't relent because of how much he had scared me. I cried that afternoon because I noticed how close I came to losing him. He even put his career on hold for a year just to make me feel more secure and happy.
Every night I wanted him to return home safe and he always did with dust cakes under his hair, smiling. He'd tell me 'I love you, don't worry about me, and how was work?' Now he's putting aside that poor dandelion and tugging me closer to him, showing me how unbelievably horny he was. I kiss him with a sudden hunger that startles us both but then he begins crossing his legs around my waist possessively like he always does.
"I love you Harry."
I can see our white picket fence from here. . . the one Draco had built for me.
A/N: Review and thanks to all of ya. Tell me if you like this fic by sending me FEEDBACK through email.
Author: lunaledafe
Rating: Pg-13 (for some strong language)
Pairing: Draco/ Harry
A/N: Thanks to Lundi and Oviara for giving me some ideas and sorry this is a one shot story. I was bored somewhat. And this is sorta like my first story. Thanks Lisson for being so merciful and supportive with this whole thing. I don't appreciate flames at all so if you don't like it then too bad. Pfft.
DISCLAIMER : This story is based on situations and characters from the Harry Potter books which are created and owned by J. K. Rowling, and various other publishers. No use other than entertainment is intended and no financial gain is being made. No trademark or copyright infringement is intended. These are not mine except for the part of the plot.
The air was reeking of grapefruit detergent and burnt clothing and Draco was sitting on the washer crossing his long legs with flourish, banging his heels against the repainted door and playing with a murdered dandelion. His jeans were undone to the point where I could see his neat peels of pubic hair. In his mouth was a muggle comfit where he raped it of all its sweetness. So this was the cocky delinquent I had fallen in love with.
We were assigned to a transfiguration project together. By then I had almost failed arithmancy and he'd offered to help me with a generous smile. We shook hands and made it through the sixth year while some whined and argued about their angsty teenage garbage. 'What are we now?' I asked one day. He shrugged and simply said, 'thanks Potter'. I sped to his dormitory that night and asked him to teach me how to dance no matter how 'unteachable' I was or so he called me. He gave me a free courteous session. I gave him a kiss. And Draco had ignited something inside me, something that suddenly became so clear and profound. I had seen a bit of emotion in his eyes, so genuine and raw, it almost hurt to look at them. Then he told me not to dick around with him, but by then we sounded like some bloody soap opera.
Draco told me how much he fancied cars that were not magically operated that day. I committed grand thievery that summer, nicking british car magazines and their subscriptions from my uncle. The last day of break came to pass and my uncle called me in from taming the hot lawn, gave me a yell and a beating, and rewarded me with a red, dripping dent across my forehead that even Voldemort would have been jealous of. When I climbed onto that scarlet train, Draco was waiting for me, dressed up like a neater rendition of James Dean and acting inevitably vain. I handed him the magazines and told him how much I missed him. But he stood there, letting the words melt in his throat and looked at me with polite curiosity. He saw the fresh neglected gash above my brow and demanded to know where it came from. I shrugged and he pulled me into a compartment, empty except for a napping puppy and a thropy shaft of light. Draco pushed the fringe out of my eyes and dressed the gash, never taking his eyes off me. I lied and shoved the truth into my stomach-said I was clumsy. But by then he told me not to pull that shit with him. He hugged me and blew into my ear until the backdrop became dark with mountains and ivy. Then he smoothed back my tresses and kissed my fingertips, blushing as he did so and asked me, 'are you alright?' Something had welled up in my chest making it terribly hard to breathe as my eyes began to water. He brought my face into his hands and kissed my forehead, setting our noses together. I rubbed my eyes warily and he batted my hands away scowling 'Hey now, stop that. They won't clear up in the morning.'
I glowered at him; feeling scared and buried my face into his chest. 'Since when did you give a damn about my eyes?'
He chuckled and never answered.
When we got back to class late, we pointed peccant fingers at each other and say it was his fault. I'd tell him what an irrefutable nuisance he was and he'd say I was a fucking half-blood dolt. Then I'd feel my insides crumble and deny speaking to him for days. Draco would apologize by sending me anonymous daisy chains, wilting lilies, and bits of white chocolate.
It sounds cliche, like so much of what he does, because it's the kind of thing you'd expect to read about, but never see with your own eyes.
Then we got older and serious and one night he told me how much life scared him. We stayed up all night talking until Ron came looking for me with the rest of the castle howling my name. I sat close to him, fiddling with my glasses until Draco asked if he could listen to my heartbeat. I was startled beyond words but I nodded in consent. He slept between the fork of my legs with his head nestled warmly under my chin. He enfolded me so tight the next morning I thought he had broken my ribs. When I flew into my common room early hoping to clamber into my bed and feign waking, Ron tackled me from behind while Hermione and Ginny screamed themselves hoarse. 'Where the hell were you?' Ron snarled. But I insisted that we went down for breakfast and practice quidditch.
The summer after seventh year, we stole a motorbike from Draco's father: he rolled it out of the garage while I steered. We sped down Thames Road feeling free and invincible while he purposely groped me from behind. We celebrated that night at the finest muggle steak grill, and held hands under the table. I stuck a paper cocktail umbrella behind his ear as we sipped on large Lauret sodas. Afterwards, we drove past shops smelling of spicy Italian risotto and I fed him spoonfuls of cold crème bruleé on the dusty curb. Then he asked me to dance with him behind an old movie theatre where music leaked through an air vent. Draco told me I looked fetching over the music and I asked if he would marry me because I loved him more than anything else. He kissed me almost shyly and slipped his hands into my tight trousers' pockets. When we got back, his father stood on the front lawn, mouth twitching in fury and roared at Draco like there was no tomorrow for being stupid and reckless. I prayed for his life that night.
We started seeing each other less and less because his father had sold the richly furnished Malfoy Estate early in September. I sat staring at the ceiling all-night and ached for him. By the end of winter things had changed. I'd found a boyfriend that made me happy and he found a renowned wizarding version of Nascar. Draco drove by my apartment one night and kidnapped me from my room to Farlin's Corner where we gorged on protein shakes and garden burgers. I told him how much I missed school and he messed with his Ferrari keys and said, 'I try not to think of those days y'know'. I felt guilty and wretched that night because I knew I still loved him yet I was fooling around with some other boy that happened to care more about his job.
If it was late he'd drive by and cast rocks at my window, not caring if the lady next door crowed bull at him. She said he was spoiled and he had to leave before she called the constable. Later I'd yelled at him for disturbing the peace and he'd sucked heavily on a peppermint stick and rolled his eyes.
Then one night, my boyfriend ventured by my room with a wasted young woman hanging crazily from his arms, stinking of sex. He spat in my face and left me crying shamelessly in the doorway. Early that morning I sat by a white picket fence, envying the people who led perfect lives behind them. And Draco came by with a cancer stick jutting from his mouth and lolled beside me on a discarded bumper. He looked down at me and cleaned my salt- blotted cheeks before I hid beneath his arms, trying to keep my hiccups in. Draco said he'd kill my ex-boyfriend for what he'd done but I grabbed him and kissed him with as much intensity as I could possibly muster. He looked at me as if I were the only thing that mattered. Then he ordered me to move in with him that afternoon and I did.
He tried cooking Chinese for me that night, which turned out pretty terrible but I didn't say anything, just because it felt so good to be next to him again. Draco grimaced at the fried rice and decided to call out for pizza with every single topping known to man, magical or not. He was as picky as ever and told me to use the silverware instead of my hands. I fell asleep in his arms and he said 'I'll take care of you' while we combed through four magazines dedicated under his name.
I swear I could have killed him for racing. He lost control of the wheel once and careened into a wall, breaking his bones. The medi-wizards were there tending to his every need but I refused to look at him even though he said I didn't care about him. He tried apologizing but I wouldn't relent because of how much he had scared me. I cried that afternoon because I noticed how close I came to losing him. He even put his career on hold for a year just to make me feel more secure and happy.
Every night I wanted him to return home safe and he always did with dust cakes under his hair, smiling. He'd tell me 'I love you, don't worry about me, and how was work?' Now he's putting aside that poor dandelion and tugging me closer to him, showing me how unbelievably horny he was. I kiss him with a sudden hunger that startles us both but then he begins crossing his legs around my waist possessively like he always does.
"I love you Harry."
I can see our white picket fence from here. . . the one Draco had built for me.
A/N: Review and thanks to all of ya. Tell me if you like this fic by sending me FEEDBACK through email.