dripping_cherry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dripping_cherry) wrote2010-03-30 08:19 pm
dripping_cherry) wrote2010-03-30 08:19 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: A Lucky Day
Title: A Lucky Day
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius
Rating: N-17
Word Count: 1.5k
Warning(s): Age disparity (19/45)
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent unless otherwise stated.
Summary: In which Auror Potter learns why Scorpius didn't make it into Slytherin.
A/N: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dornfelder at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_getlucky.
If someone had told me that today's Auror duty would include sleeping with a Malfoy, I'd never have bothered coming to work. Instead, I'd have reinforced the wards around the house, then gone back to bed and hidden under my duvet. Maybe that would have averted this foolishness. Maybe then I wouldn't have ended up where I am now – playing teddy bear to a nineteen-year-old bloke!
As I lie pondering my rotten luck – on St. Patrick's Day Eve, of all days – my thoughts rewind to early this morning.
I arrived at the Ministry fifteen minutes late and, on the way to the Auror Office, somehow managed to pass every single person I'd rather not have had to deal with. And each one of them seemed intent on exchanging more than a friendly ‘good morning’. Indeed, it seemed like the more I didn't want to talk to someone, the more they had to say. Barely awake and wishing for nothing more than to drink my first cup of coffee in peace, I trudged into my office and shut the door behind me. Unfortunately, it swung right back open just as I was pouring the contents of a tiny bottle of Wake-Me-Up Potion into the dark brew.
A disheveled Teddy Lupin stepped in. I knew the chartreuse tinge colouring the tips of his hair well – it was a tell-tale sign of apprehension. Had I really become such an old grouse since the divorce that even Teddy dreaded speaking to me?
"Morning, Harry," Teddy said as he seated himself in one of the chairs opposite my desk. His voice was about an octave above its usual tone.
"Morning," I replied after taking a sip of my coffee. "Everything all right?"
Teddy bit his lip. "I have good news and bad news."
"Give me the bad news first."
"Draco Malfoy believes his son might be in danger. He wants us to send someone over to stay at the Manor while he and his wife are away for the weekend." Teddy shifted in his seat. "And he demands that it be you."
I snorted. "That's work for a new recruit, not the Head Auror. Send James."
Teddy looked at me and swallowed nervously. "So what's the good news?" I asked
Now even his eyebrows were turning chartreuse. "The good news is dependent upon your presence at the Manor."
"And what exactly is this good news?" Not looking at what I was doing, I set down my coffee – right on top of the inkwell on my desk. The cup tipped and dark liquid splattered onto a stack of reports. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath as I reached for my wand.
Teddy waited, slightly wide-eyed, while I cleaned up the mess. Deciding it was safe to continue, he said, "Malfoy claims to have developed a cure for the Magical Degeneration Curse those Neo-Death Eaters have hit some of our Aurors with."
That got my attention. Three of our staff had been hit by that curse over the past month; all of them were now on sick leave, their magic dwindling or already completely gone. "Is he telling the truth?"
"He offered to take Veritaserum," Teddy said.
I took a moment to consider my options. Malfoy didn't need money, so it wasn't likely we could convince him to sell us the recipe. We weren't going to steal it, and there was no law stating that one was required to share one's knowledge of a cure if the condition in question wasn't fatal. Babysitting Draco Malfoy's son was the last thing I wanted to do, but I needed my Aurors to get well and get back to work as soon as possible.
"Is Malfoy's fear for his son well-founded?" I asked.
Teddy made a wry face. "I suppose. Scorpius has been receiving threats from Neo-Death Eaters trying to recruit him, but I wouldn't say it's something that requires your attention in particular."
I tossed my glasses onto the desk and rubbed my eyes. That only made the sensation of sandpaper behind my eyelids worse. "All right, I'll do it. But make sure Malfoy signs a contract promising to fulfill his end of the bargain. And look after things here while I'm gone."
Believe me when I tell you I had no idea what I'd just agreed to. Sure, I foresaw that I'd have to deal with incessant Malfoy wit and possibly an ego the size of Grawp, but I hadn't expected to have to follow Scorpius around all of Britain in search of necessary ingredients his father had failed to mention they were out of. And I sure as hell hadn't anticipated spending the night in a one-room cabin because Scorpius insisted that the potion would only work if the base brew was made at night, in the woods, during a thunderstorm on St. Patrick's Day Eve.
I don't even believe any of that, but I can't afford being wrong. So here I am, sleeping in the same bed with a Malfoy because he needs to get some rest to be able to continue brewing with precision, but he's so deathly afraid of thunder that he can't fall asleep unless someone holds him, like his mother always does.
It wouldn't be so bad, actually, if only my dick would cooperate. Apparently it enjoys Scorpius's company much more than I do. I've spent the last hour – ever since I saw that strip of pale skin when he stretched and his jumper rode up – trying to hide it from him.
Trying to keep some distance between us, despite having my arm slung around him, proves futile when he wiggles backward to press himself closer against me. His arse bumps my erection and he stiffens.
"I told you I'm not your mother," I grumble, not moving.
He doesn't move either. I wish he would because I'm dying here.
"Harry?" he says softly. Merlin's beard, the bloke likes the sound of his own voice!
"What?"
He tilts his head back towards me. "I almost forgot – the recipe for the potion requires that the brewer be shagged by the Head Auror while the base is being prepared."
Suddenly today doesn't seem like such a bad day after all, even if I had spent the last ten hours consciously letting Scorpius Malfoy make a fool of me.
"At night… in the woods… during a thunderstorm… on St. Patrick's Day Eve?" I ask, unsurprised that he didn't make it into Slytherin.
The proceeding silence is interrupted only by the slow bubbling of the cauldron.
"Yeah," Scorpius says, at last.
I slip my hand down the front of his pants to grab his stiff cock. "That's one detailed recipe. Maybe we should consult with your father, just to be sure—"
He gasps, thrusting into my palm. "No! He doesn't know about this part. I'm just spicing up the recipe – you know, to give the potion an extra kick."
"How innovative of you." I give his ear a sharp nip and he arches against me.
"So will you do it?"
It's funny that he should ask, because my saliva-slicked finger already happens to be pushing into his arse. I ignore him, choosing instead to kiss and suck on his neck until he's moaning and pushing back onto my hand with insatiable urgency.
"Does the recipe go into any specifics regarding the position?" I ask.
"From the side… just like this," he says in between ragged breaths.
That suits me because I want him right now, and a change of positions would only slow things down. I pull my cock out from inside my pants and spread the precome over the head for lubrication. Then I push inside him and oh fuck that smooth, tight heat is perfect, until we're both crying out and he's pumping his seed into his hand while I'm pulsing inside him.
Scorpius lies sliding his hand lazily along my thigh while I contemplate pulling out. Then he momentarily goes still before suddenly jumping out of bed, pulling on his trousers, and running over to dump a handful of some herb into the cauldron.
My muscles still feel as if they'd been turned into goo. Really, the sex was so good I only feel slightly guilty for abusing my position and shagging the sexy, insufferable git under my protection. Speaking of which…
"Scorpius, it is true that you've been threatened, right? And that your father thinks he's developed a cure for Magical Degeneration?"
He looks at me, face lit up by the fire heating the cauldron. "Er… the part about the potion is true. And father thinks I've been threatened." He grins. "That was the only part I lied about. I knew my father would come up with the rest on his own."
I watch him as he works, hair tousled and skin flushed from sex and the heat of the simmering concoction. For the first time, I myself – meaning without the help of my dick – realize just how gorgeous he is. And to think that he went to such lengths to get me in bed…
I guess today really was a lucky day after all.
The End.
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius
Rating: N-17
Word Count: 1.5k
Warning(s): Age disparity (19/45)
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent unless otherwise stated.
Summary: In which Auror Potter learns why Scorpius didn't make it into Slytherin.
A/N: This was written for
dornfelder at hp_getlucky.If someone had told me that today's Auror duty would include sleeping with a Malfoy, I'd never have bothered coming to work. Instead, I'd have reinforced the wards around the house, then gone back to bed and hidden under my duvet. Maybe that would have averted this foolishness. Maybe then I wouldn't have ended up where I am now – playing teddy bear to a nineteen-year-old bloke!
As I lie pondering my rotten luck – on St. Patrick's Day Eve, of all days – my thoughts rewind to early this morning.
I arrived at the Ministry fifteen minutes late and, on the way to the Auror Office, somehow managed to pass every single person I'd rather not have had to deal with. And each one of them seemed intent on exchanging more than a friendly ‘good morning’. Indeed, it seemed like the more I didn't want to talk to someone, the more they had to say. Barely awake and wishing for nothing more than to drink my first cup of coffee in peace, I trudged into my office and shut the door behind me. Unfortunately, it swung right back open just as I was pouring the contents of a tiny bottle of Wake-Me-Up Potion into the dark brew.
A disheveled Teddy Lupin stepped in. I knew the chartreuse tinge colouring the tips of his hair well – it was a tell-tale sign of apprehension. Had I really become such an old grouse since the divorce that even Teddy dreaded speaking to me?
"Morning, Harry," Teddy said as he seated himself in one of the chairs opposite my desk. His voice was about an octave above its usual tone.
"Morning," I replied after taking a sip of my coffee. "Everything all right?"
Teddy bit his lip. "I have good news and bad news."
"Give me the bad news first."
"Draco Malfoy believes his son might be in danger. He wants us to send someone over to stay at the Manor while he and his wife are away for the weekend." Teddy shifted in his seat. "And he demands that it be you."
I snorted. "That's work for a new recruit, not the Head Auror. Send James."
Teddy looked at me and swallowed nervously. "So what's the good news?" I asked
Now even his eyebrows were turning chartreuse. "The good news is dependent upon your presence at the Manor."
"And what exactly is this good news?" Not looking at what I was doing, I set down my coffee – right on top of the inkwell on my desk. The cup tipped and dark liquid splattered onto a stack of reports. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath as I reached for my wand.
Teddy waited, slightly wide-eyed, while I cleaned up the mess. Deciding it was safe to continue, he said, "Malfoy claims to have developed a cure for the Magical Degeneration Curse those Neo-Death Eaters have hit some of our Aurors with."
That got my attention. Three of our staff had been hit by that curse over the past month; all of them were now on sick leave, their magic dwindling or already completely gone. "Is he telling the truth?"
"He offered to take Veritaserum," Teddy said.
I took a moment to consider my options. Malfoy didn't need money, so it wasn't likely we could convince him to sell us the recipe. We weren't going to steal it, and there was no law stating that one was required to share one's knowledge of a cure if the condition in question wasn't fatal. Babysitting Draco Malfoy's son was the last thing I wanted to do, but I needed my Aurors to get well and get back to work as soon as possible.
"Is Malfoy's fear for his son well-founded?" I asked.
Teddy made a wry face. "I suppose. Scorpius has been receiving threats from Neo-Death Eaters trying to recruit him, but I wouldn't say it's something that requires your attention in particular."
I tossed my glasses onto the desk and rubbed my eyes. That only made the sensation of sandpaper behind my eyelids worse. "All right, I'll do it. But make sure Malfoy signs a contract promising to fulfill his end of the bargain. And look after things here while I'm gone."
Believe me when I tell you I had no idea what I'd just agreed to. Sure, I foresaw that I'd have to deal with incessant Malfoy wit and possibly an ego the size of Grawp, but I hadn't expected to have to follow Scorpius around all of Britain in search of necessary ingredients his father had failed to mention they were out of. And I sure as hell hadn't anticipated spending the night in a one-room cabin because Scorpius insisted that the potion would only work if the base brew was made at night, in the woods, during a thunderstorm on St. Patrick's Day Eve.
I don't even believe any of that, but I can't afford being wrong. So here I am, sleeping in the same bed with a Malfoy because he needs to get some rest to be able to continue brewing with precision, but he's so deathly afraid of thunder that he can't fall asleep unless someone holds him, like his mother always does.
It wouldn't be so bad, actually, if only my dick would cooperate. Apparently it enjoys Scorpius's company much more than I do. I've spent the last hour – ever since I saw that strip of pale skin when he stretched and his jumper rode up – trying to hide it from him.
Trying to keep some distance between us, despite having my arm slung around him, proves futile when he wiggles backward to press himself closer against me. His arse bumps my erection and he stiffens.
"I told you I'm not your mother," I grumble, not moving.
He doesn't move either. I wish he would because I'm dying here.
"Harry?" he says softly. Merlin's beard, the bloke likes the sound of his own voice!
"What?"
He tilts his head back towards me. "I almost forgot – the recipe for the potion requires that the brewer be shagged by the Head Auror while the base is being prepared."
Suddenly today doesn't seem like such a bad day after all, even if I had spent the last ten hours consciously letting Scorpius Malfoy make a fool of me.
"At night… in the woods… during a thunderstorm… on St. Patrick's Day Eve?" I ask, unsurprised that he didn't make it into Slytherin.
The proceeding silence is interrupted only by the slow bubbling of the cauldron.
"Yeah," Scorpius says, at last.
I slip my hand down the front of his pants to grab his stiff cock. "That's one detailed recipe. Maybe we should consult with your father, just to be sure—"
He gasps, thrusting into my palm. "No! He doesn't know about this part. I'm just spicing up the recipe – you know, to give the potion an extra kick."
"How innovative of you." I give his ear a sharp nip and he arches against me.
"So will you do it?"
It's funny that he should ask, because my saliva-slicked finger already happens to be pushing into his arse. I ignore him, choosing instead to kiss and suck on his neck until he's moaning and pushing back onto my hand with insatiable urgency.
"Does the recipe go into any specifics regarding the position?" I ask.
"From the side… just like this," he says in between ragged breaths.
That suits me because I want him right now, and a change of positions would only slow things down. I pull my cock out from inside my pants and spread the precome over the head for lubrication. Then I push inside him and oh fuck that smooth, tight heat is perfect, until we're both crying out and he's pumping his seed into his hand while I'm pulsing inside him.
Scorpius lies sliding his hand lazily along my thigh while I contemplate pulling out. Then he momentarily goes still before suddenly jumping out of bed, pulling on his trousers, and running over to dump a handful of some herb into the cauldron.
My muscles still feel as if they'd been turned into goo. Really, the sex was so good I only feel slightly guilty for abusing my position and shagging the sexy, insufferable git under my protection. Speaking of which…
"Scorpius, it is true that you've been threatened, right? And that your father thinks he's developed a cure for Magical Degeneration?"
He looks at me, face lit up by the fire heating the cauldron. "Er… the part about the potion is true. And father thinks I've been threatened." He grins. "That was the only part I lied about. I knew my father would come up with the rest on his own."
I watch him as he works, hair tousled and skin flushed from sex and the heat of the simmering concoction. For the first time, I myself – meaning without the help of my dick – realize just how gorgeous he is. And to think that he went to such lengths to get me in bed…
I guess today really was a lucky day after all.
The End.
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Thanks!
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Great job... left me wanting MORE MORE MORE!
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At the "maybe we should consult your father," I LOVED Scorpius' mini panic attack.
Excellent work.
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