A Harry/Draco drabble
980 words
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Memoirs

Draco's face was all scrunched up as he peered at the page before him. He held it really close to his face, and just to make sure he looked at it from a bit of a distance as well. When that didn't yield any results he turned it upside-down, only to be faced with defeat yet again. He tapped a particularly odd scribble with it finger.

"So, what's that then?"

"What? Oh for Morgana's sake, that's 'equanimity'. Don't tell me you've suddenly become illiterate," Harry exclaimed, underlining the word so ferociously he tore straight through the parchment.

Draco wriggled his fingers in front of his face and rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry dear, I don't read 'gibberish'. That does not say 'equanimity'. It's closest to kanji if anything, see that squiggly line right there? That almost spells 'kitchen'."

Harry pushed away from the table with such force that the chair toppled over and in to the crystal sculpture behind him. He raged through the room for a while, gesturing wildly and cursing everything he could think of only to end up by the liquor cabinet. He grabbed a glass and dumped some ice in it. He held it tightly for a while then took a deep breath and smashed it back on the tray. "Let's finish this so I can kill myself. I can't take another day of this aggravation Drac, I really can't."

Draco was on his feet before he was even through speaking, nimble fingers tangled in the hair on the nape of Harry's neck and he massaged gently. When this was met with a murmur of approval he expanded his exploit to include the shoulders as well and worked his way down Harry's spine. When he felt the muscles loosen he manoeuvred him to the table and pushed him in to a chair.

He took a bottle out of the cabinet and blew the dust off it- old Irish whiskey, courtesy of Seamus and Ron. Sometimes it paid to know people. He poured them both a drink and sat down next to Harry.

"No pain, no glory, peaches. Back to work with you and I don't want to hear so much as a squeak out of you," he said sternly. He carelessly flicked his wand and snatched the quill out of the air before it embedded itself in to his love's skull. He had been on edge more often than not in the past month and it showed in his magic. Everything he did seemed to target Harry one way or another.

He solemnly handed over 'the instrument of doom and destruction' and watched Harry's shoulders slump reflexively.

"You know you could always use a quick notes quill, they-"

"No!"

Draco found his glass rather interesting then and decided to inspect it to the bottom. He really shouldn't complain, he knew. It was after all partly his fault they were in this mess to begin with. It had sounded so innocent though, a simple collection of memoirs written by the youngest man to defeat a Dark Lord, the richest man in Wizarding Britain, the very first recognised half-blood Malfoy, and so on and so on.

Draco had to smother a giggle that was trying to escape him, but he couldn't help how funny it all was. However much Harry desired normality he kept doing things that were completely extraordinary. Not that Draco was complaining.

When he looked at the haggard looking man chewing on the end of his quill, seemingly ready to face certain disaster, he felt ready to take over the project himself. Turning the entire thing in to a work of fiction would be worth it, just to have it over and done with.

Harry let his head slam down on the empty parchment and sighed dejectedly. "I really don't think I can do this any more. I just can't write about myself, it's too … too …"

"Pretentious?"

"That's the word. You see? My mind has shut itself off in the name of self-preservation. That's a sure sign that it thinks I should quit while I still have a mind, and incidentally, I'm inclined to follow the advice."

"Alright."

"You don't- what?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry's stunned expression. "It's a word which generally means something like 'I am in agreement with you, I am ready to follow your suggestion'. It originates from-"

"Oh stop it," Harry interjected playfully.

He snuggled in to the arms which embraced him from behind and smiled. "Now this is much better."

"Isn't it? It's just not worth it, you know. Those memoirs? Not really that important. Sure, from a historical viewpoint they would be priceless but the public has already formed an opinion and who are we to try and dissuade them? So, in the grand scheme of things the memoirs are just not worth wasting those few brain cells you have retained," Draco said into his hair.

"And here I was, thinking it was the biggest thing since Merlin's diaries. At least, that's what you said," Harry remarked.

"Never you mind what I said Potter-"

"Malfoy," Harry corrected him.

"Oh that really irks me," Draco muttered irritably.

"It's why I took the name dear," Harry said with a large grin.

"And here I thought it was all to provide Severus with an aneurism."

"Side benefits, oh what would I do without side benefits," Harry said wistfully.

"I'll show you side benefits," Draco growled, and that was the end of the conversation for the day. What followed was a series of growls more befitting large felines than grown men. Ah well, everyone deserves an interlude now and again.

And you know what they say, all work and no play gives certain Malfoys psychotic episodes. Wait, scrap that, all work and no play gives all Malfoys psychotic episodes.

Come to think of it…there is very little which doesn't.