crying like a banshee
@drarrymicrofic | prompt: wet | WC: 219 | betas: @narrativenicole and @hodgepodgebooks
Summer Bingo prompts: present tense, weather event
Title/Song Inspo: Storm Song by PHILDEL
Inside his cottage, swaddled in solitude and brine, Harry prepares soup at the woodstove. Another Irish storm lashes against the door. The windows shake. Harry scrubs a hand through his unkempt beard.Â
Another day alone since he left. Since Harry was stupid enough to ask for his skin, and dumb enough to say he would shed his skin in return. Which now that he thinks of it, sounds bloody creepy.
No wonder Draco refused him and then left.Â
More loud noises from outside, surely the wayward stormâs chaos.
Wait.
Itâs intentional: a series of impatient knocks.
Harry rushes to the door and throws it open, allowing in a gust of wind, which steals his breath. Or maybe itâs Draco, naked and glistening wet on his front porch. Heâs ethereal against the torrential greyâlike some kind of painting.Â
He sees it then, in Dracoâs armsâhis pelt, a silken texture of warm fur the colour of moonlight.
Draco holds it out as if itâs of no consequence. âTake it.âÂ
Harry stares, starting to shake.Â
ItâsâDraco came backâand heâs giving himâ
âInvite me in, Harry,â Draco says, amusement writ all over his face, clutching the pelt carefully to his chest as if he realises Harryâs brain has ceased to function.
âPlease.â Harry stumbles back, allowing Draco into the refuge of the cottage.



















