25 HarryxDraco Drabbles
By Yiji
Drabble 6 : Hands
Harry potter had immensely interesting hands. Not interesting in a bad way, of course, simply speaking in an observatory manner. There was nothing wrong with observing, was there? Of course not, especially during a study break, right?
They weren't at all like his own hands. Draco turned his left one over again and inspected it without much enthusiasm against the cream pages of his textbook. Pale, thin, beautiful in their slenderness. Hands that had never done a scrap of hard labour in their life, and that spoke of his good breeding in volumes. Harry's hands, on the other hand (he almost grimaced at this horrible self-inflicted pun) had character. They were darker, like his skin, and broader. The fingers were shorter than his, the palms roughened and the pads calloused from Quiddich and menial labour.
Draco sometimes wished he had hands like Harry's. They were strong hands, that mirrored the disposition of their owner. Strong and brave, willing to work, hands that could destroy a mountain and build an empire out of nothingness.
Almost instinctively, Harry's hand reached out underneath the table and laced fingers with his own. Draco started, giving the young man beside him a look of confusion. The Gryffindor's expression never wavered from his look of absorbed concentration, eyes raking slowly over the Potions ingredients in his book.
Draco smothered the smile that threatened to crack his jaw and resumed staring at nothing in particular in his book. Harry's hands were those that could heal, that allowed him to surface from the depths of despair and see the light ahead. They were comfort and reassurance and spoke of love, respect and the feeling of home in every touch. And Harry had deemed his own, pale, treacherous ones worthy of being held.
He was glad that, even though their hands might be completely different, they fitted together so well.