Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


Nighttime, magic. He'd never believed, not even as a child.

He believes in the darkness. Children's nightmares and tainted souls.

Faerie stories. Ha! Faeries! What would his colleagues think of him now?

Were the world fair, just, he couldn't -- wouldn't -- have come.

A wizard walking out of his fireplace and into his bed?

Assumed world of dream-spun faeries and stardust. So childlike.

A warm, lithe body sprawled over him. Unexpected, unprepared, unexplainable.

Magic. Faerie. Wizard. Unexplainable.

Muggle. Innocent, unknowing. A cruel world.

This was impossible. Warmly surreal, coldly amazing. Beautiful.

Nighttime, magic.


Author's Note: First ever co written (almost) drabble, methinks. A friend of mine from school (Easily Abused) wrote half of this. In all honesty, it didn't reach one hundred words, but that just makes it even better. Or so we tell ourselves.

The pairing? You'll never guess. No, seriously, you won't. I'll tell you at the end, I guess.

By the by, the title is in French. I don't know French, but Emily -- Easily Abused -- does. I don't know what the title means, unfortunately.

…Why am I the one posting this? She chickened out. 'Nuff said.

Pairing: The Prime Minister and Rufus Scrimgeour. Told you you wouldn't guess, didn't I?

Have a nice day!

Morgan

PS - Please-oh-please review!