#harry draco

[darinaursus]

[morihuori]

[timbersdeep]

follow me for more drarry 🤙😎

[rubrum-lanites]

Про балет писать не буду

I won't write about ballet

[beewitchedx]

@drarrymicrofic | wc: 303 | prompt: ball

"I'm not going."

"You should," Hermione says.

"C'mon, mate," Ron says. "It's for charity!"

Then he adds, "Also, Hermione and I are going, and if I'm suffering through it, so are you."

"I've been to 5 charity galas this month alone! When does it end?"

Harry spears a potato with unnecessary force. "If these rich prats wanted to help, they'd volunteer at an orphanage, instead of prancing around a silly ballroom."

"Funny you say that, that's exactly what this one's fundraising for," Ron says, skimming the invitation. "Me personally, I'm just hoping Malfoy has some decent food-"

"Hang on-" Harry stops mid-chew. "Malfoy's hosting the charity ball?"

Hermione rolls her eyes. "If you'd read your invitation-"

Harry reaches over and nicks Ron's invitation from his hand.

There it is, in shimmering black ink.

Lady Narcissa Malfoy and Lord Draco Malfoy cordially invite you to Malfoy Manor on the 25th of May for the War Orphanage Charity Fundraiser…

The name Draco Malfoy burns across Harry's retinas. His fingers grip the invitation so hard he can feel the gold cardstock digging into the flesh of his palm.

"Oy, Mate, you're crinkling it-"

"Fine," he grits out, thrusting it back to him. "I'll go."

Already, he's calculating. New dress robes from Madam Malkin's. A new pair of formal shoes for ballroom dancing. Preferably ones charmed not to miss steps.

"Hermione," he says abruptly, "What was that hair stuff you used for the Yule Ball?"

"Sleekeazy's," Hermione gives him a knowing smile. "Don't worry, I have a bottle for you. I'll grab it after we finish dinner.

Ron makes a choking noise into his drink.

Harry ignores him. He has less than a week to prepare, and he refuses to let Malfoy get the better of him.

Across the table, Ron and Hermione exchange identical smirks.

x

[carly-r-arnold]

Interruptions

@drarrymicrofic | prompt: bound | wc: 164

It sometimes felt like fate was working against him. More so than usual, that is, considering this is the fourth time this week he's tried to ask Draco out. Something always seems to go wrong. But he was bound and determined to take that blonde git on a date. “Draco, can I talk to-” he began, but was, predictably, interrupted by the flurry of owls with the morning post swooping down, screeching and the sound of wings flapping drowning out his words. “This is ridiculous,” he barely heard Draco say before a cool hand clasped around his wrist, dragging him from the Great Hall and into the quiet, blissfully empty corridor. Draco spun around, hips cocked, looking expectantly at Harry. This was it. Finally, his chance. Taking a deep breath, Harry opened his mouth. “Draco, will-” “Yes! Merlin's bollocks, Potter. I thought I was going to die a young and beautiful bachelor with how long it took you to ask me out,” Draco huffed.

[yuvanart]

I definitely needed a break and simplification.