@drarrymicrofic | prompt: slander | wc: 50
“Pansy. Have you seen the state of his hair this morning? You’d think something crawled into it and died.”
A sharp tug on his wrist before he’s surrounded by stone, swallowed in green.
A pointed grin. Possessive hands.
Hot breath fanning across his lips. Harry, leaning further. “What was that?”










