Prongs rides again by Jean
Rating: PG (I hope)
Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Harry or Draco. Hell, I don't even own Prongs.
Summary: Possession is Nine Tenths of the Law.
A/N: First Harry Potter fiction, just some silliness that came to me today. Thanks a million to Deanna Jean and RavanaSnape for the speedy beta's. Please review! - - -
Enraged was too gentle a word for what Harry was feeling right now. His and Draco's relationship had never been smooth sailing, but this was just the limit. As much as Harry loved Draco, if he ever set eyes on that son of a bitch again, he'd tear his sorry excuse for a body limb from limb.
Draco had taken Harry's most precious belonging, the most sacred thing in his life, which he guarded at the safest place in the world: his bed. Well, technically it was his and Draco's bed, but that mistake was about to be rectified.
At the end of their graduation, after all the carnage and devastation that was the NEWTS, Remus Lupin, his only connection to his parents, had given him a stag. Not a real one of course, but a cuddly stag his father had given his mother on their fifth anniversary. The cute little thing was almost an exact copy of the stag his father used to be and Harry cherished the present more than anything. It was the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night.
Draco Malfoy was a petty jealous bastard and Harry should have known that. He should have stuck by his first opinion of him, no matter how talented that git was with his mouth - when he was not speaking. He should have Avada Kedavra-ed the bastard the first time he set his contemptuous eyes on his beloved Prongs. Well, Draco had made a fatal mistake when he walked out of the door with his Prongs and he was damn well going to know it.
Harry sat fuming on the couch facing the door, waiting for the soon-to-be- fried ex-Slytherin to show his face.
- - -
Draco Malfoy was having a good day. He'd woken up with a most unusual muse and had set off immediately to his gallery.
At sixteen Draco had found out that his energy, previously fully occupied with harassing non-Slytherins, especially a certain Gryffindor trio, could be far better utilized elsewhere. This set off a year of soul-searching, but also an energetic hunt for a new hobby. A hunt that had high points such as mastering quite a few wizarding and -gasp- muggle instruments -and getting quite bored with them as wel- and a few very low points like joining the Divination club - he still had nightmares about Lavender Brown chasing him with a pendant claiming their destiny together was written in the stars.
Eventually, he had found out that he loved painting and had -naturally- quite a talent for it. Professor Snape had somehow managed to get him a room to paint in and he took to it with fervour. By graduation time Draco had earned quite a sum from taking requests from students -which had irritated Dean Thomas to no end- and had a few offers from some national and even international wizarding galleries.
After a few months of working at the wizard section of the Tate gallery in London, Draco decided he liked working for himself better and started a gallery of his own in Diagon Alley. He'd already acquired a small clientele base and it grew insanely after opening his gallery. Draco now had 7 artists in his gallery. Lately Draco only painted for the richer clients or when inspiration hit him. He was currently in the process of branching out into the muggle world.
But right now Draco was in full painter mode. He'd woken up with the most perfect image in his head and he couldn't wait to get it on the canvas. He'd been working on it since 7 am and when he finished at 4 pm -due to numerous interruptions from the gallery- it was only the thought of ruining the not-yet dry piece of art that stopped him from wrapping it up immediately and leaving.
It was while he was waiting that Draco remembered to get his additional gift. The moment he had both gifts, he was on his way home.
- - -
"Where is Prongs?"
"Harry, love, just.calm down, let me explain."
Harry was approaching him with alarming speed and a look so dangerous, Draco couldn't help but feel a pang of arousal in the midst of his fear.
"Malfoy, " That wasn't good, "you have 30 seconds to hand over Prongs and Disapparate before I set the Cruciatus curse on you."
Draco handed over his Prongs and although he mostly felt relieved for having him back, Harry couldn't help noticing the lust in Draco's eyes. He turned and headed for the bedroom before his anger turned into something more beneficial to Draco. Of course, Draco followed him.
"Look, Harry; obviously in your all consuming rage, you forgot what today is. Aside from reservations to-"
"Today!?! Today's the day I leave you Draco Malfoy. I can't believe you thought you could get away with stealing Prongs! I've had enough of you; I can't believe I ever got together with an arrogant arse like you!"
"Arrogant?! Look, Harry, it's our 6th anniversary. As I was saying, aside from the reservations to The Mooncalf Core, I wanted to get you something special. I only took Prongs to make you this. I didn't think you'd miss it you git."
Draco unwrapped the package and Harry was stunned. He thought it might've been Draco's best work ever - although he was definitely biased. It was Prongs galloping in an open valley in the moonlight. The way he rode was absolutely breathtaking.
"It's beautiful, Draco. Thank you."
"I know," came the smug reply.
The painting was hung in the living room and they opted to snuggle on the couch instead of going to the restaurant. Harry, who was less spontaneous than Draco, had bought Draco's present ages ago. Draco got a silver Chimaera statue. He liked dangerous creatures and Harry had found a shop where they made them to his specifications.
"I can't believe you would've left me over that stag!"
"I'm sorry Draco, I should've known there was a reason you took it. I was just being rash."
"You bet you were.. Who do you love more?"
"What do you mean?"
"Who do you love more? Me or that cuddly stag of yours?"
..
"Harry?"
Fin
Rating: PG (I hope)
Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Harry or Draco. Hell, I don't even own Prongs.
Summary: Possession is Nine Tenths of the Law.
A/N: First Harry Potter fiction, just some silliness that came to me today. Thanks a million to Deanna Jean and RavanaSnape for the speedy beta's. Please review! - - -
Enraged was too gentle a word for what Harry was feeling right now. His and Draco's relationship had never been smooth sailing, but this was just the limit. As much as Harry loved Draco, if he ever set eyes on that son of a bitch again, he'd tear his sorry excuse for a body limb from limb.
Draco had taken Harry's most precious belonging, the most sacred thing in his life, which he guarded at the safest place in the world: his bed. Well, technically it was his and Draco's bed, but that mistake was about to be rectified.
At the end of their graduation, after all the carnage and devastation that was the NEWTS, Remus Lupin, his only connection to his parents, had given him a stag. Not a real one of course, but a cuddly stag his father had given his mother on their fifth anniversary. The cute little thing was almost an exact copy of the stag his father used to be and Harry cherished the present more than anything. It was the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night.
Draco Malfoy was a petty jealous bastard and Harry should have known that. He should have stuck by his first opinion of him, no matter how talented that git was with his mouth - when he was not speaking. He should have Avada Kedavra-ed the bastard the first time he set his contemptuous eyes on his beloved Prongs. Well, Draco had made a fatal mistake when he walked out of the door with his Prongs and he was damn well going to know it.
Harry sat fuming on the couch facing the door, waiting for the soon-to-be- fried ex-Slytherin to show his face.
- - -
Draco Malfoy was having a good day. He'd woken up with a most unusual muse and had set off immediately to his gallery.
At sixteen Draco had found out that his energy, previously fully occupied with harassing non-Slytherins, especially a certain Gryffindor trio, could be far better utilized elsewhere. This set off a year of soul-searching, but also an energetic hunt for a new hobby. A hunt that had high points such as mastering quite a few wizarding and -gasp- muggle instruments -and getting quite bored with them as wel- and a few very low points like joining the Divination club - he still had nightmares about Lavender Brown chasing him with a pendant claiming their destiny together was written in the stars.
Eventually, he had found out that he loved painting and had -naturally- quite a talent for it. Professor Snape had somehow managed to get him a room to paint in and he took to it with fervour. By graduation time Draco had earned quite a sum from taking requests from students -which had irritated Dean Thomas to no end- and had a few offers from some national and even international wizarding galleries.
After a few months of working at the wizard section of the Tate gallery in London, Draco decided he liked working for himself better and started a gallery of his own in Diagon Alley. He'd already acquired a small clientele base and it grew insanely after opening his gallery. Draco now had 7 artists in his gallery. Lately Draco only painted for the richer clients or when inspiration hit him. He was currently in the process of branching out into the muggle world.
But right now Draco was in full painter mode. He'd woken up with the most perfect image in his head and he couldn't wait to get it on the canvas. He'd been working on it since 7 am and when he finished at 4 pm -due to numerous interruptions from the gallery- it was only the thought of ruining the not-yet dry piece of art that stopped him from wrapping it up immediately and leaving.
It was while he was waiting that Draco remembered to get his additional gift. The moment he had both gifts, he was on his way home.
- - -
"Where is Prongs?"
"Harry, love, just.calm down, let me explain."
Harry was approaching him with alarming speed and a look so dangerous, Draco couldn't help but feel a pang of arousal in the midst of his fear.
"Malfoy, " That wasn't good, "you have 30 seconds to hand over Prongs and Disapparate before I set the Cruciatus curse on you."
Draco handed over his Prongs and although he mostly felt relieved for having him back, Harry couldn't help noticing the lust in Draco's eyes. He turned and headed for the bedroom before his anger turned into something more beneficial to Draco. Of course, Draco followed him.
"Look, Harry; obviously in your all consuming rage, you forgot what today is. Aside from reservations to-"
"Today!?! Today's the day I leave you Draco Malfoy. I can't believe you thought you could get away with stealing Prongs! I've had enough of you; I can't believe I ever got together with an arrogant arse like you!"
"Arrogant?! Look, Harry, it's our 6th anniversary. As I was saying, aside from the reservations to The Mooncalf Core, I wanted to get you something special. I only took Prongs to make you this. I didn't think you'd miss it you git."
Draco unwrapped the package and Harry was stunned. He thought it might've been Draco's best work ever - although he was definitely biased. It was Prongs galloping in an open valley in the moonlight. The way he rode was absolutely breathtaking.
"It's beautiful, Draco. Thank you."
"I know," came the smug reply.
The painting was hung in the living room and they opted to snuggle on the couch instead of going to the restaurant. Harry, who was less spontaneous than Draco, had bought Draco's present ages ago. Draco got a silver Chimaera statue. He liked dangerous creatures and Harry had found a shop where they made them to his specifications.
"I can't believe you would've left me over that stag!"
"I'm sorry Draco, I should've known there was a reason you took it. I was just being rash."
"You bet you were.. Who do you love more?"
"What do you mean?"
"Who do you love more? Me or that cuddly stag of yours?"
..
"Harry?"
Fin