Fic
Title: Draco!
Author: Firesword
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and
its characters belong to JK Rowling and so on. I just own the fluffy
muse.
Summary: Drabble. Draco has a
piece of drawing paper, a pencil and an eraser.
Rating: White Flame
Warnings: HPDM slash ...
somewhat, OOC, takes place in the world of 'Napping on Harry's Lap'.
Absolute fluff with no plot.
Author's Notes: In reality, I
was practicing drawing Harry…. *explodes into crazy laughter*
Draco!
By Firesword
Draco blinked and stared blankly at his Transfiguration professor.
McGonagall stared back at him, unimpressed and aloof. After several
minutes, she walked away to peer over a Ravenclaw's shoulder. Draco's
eyes dropped to the drawing paper on his desk.
"Isn't she supposed to relief Flitwick?" he muttered darkly under his
breath. "Why in the hell must I draw?"
"Stop complaining, Draco." Millicent, who was sitting beside him,
mumbled. "It's just drawing, fortunately. Can you imagine how stressful
it would be if she had asked us to do an essay?"
The silver-haired wizard just made a soft noise and picked up the
pencil. He frowned, wondering what he should draw. After several
minutes of thinking, he sighed and started to sketch. He did not notice
McGonagall leaving the room, until he realized that students were
walking about the classroom and they were peering at each other's
drawings. Draco scowled at them and returned his attention back to his
sketch.
"Why in the hell must you wear glasses?" Draco grumbled to himself as
he drew a pair of glasses on his paper. "Damn it." He swore angrily and
carefully rubbed at the lines that he had made.
He moved on to draw the hair for the figure in the paper and he smirked
at one point. "I don't think he'll dare to grow his hair." He smirked
again. Once satisfied with his character's hair, he lifted his eyes and
sought immediately for a glimpse of Harry Potter. Draco saw the wizard
standing behind Hermione Granger and the Gryffindor appeared
thoughtful. Draco felt his lips curving into a small smile and began to
draw a shirt for his figure.
"Draco!"
Due to his surprise, he accidentally pressed the tip of his pencil hard
on the drawing paper, and destroyed his intricate design on the hem of
the robes of his character.
"What?" he snapped at the voice and turned his head.
His glare quickly changed into incredulity and he quickly covered his
drawing with his hands. "Go away!"
"You erase that immediately!" Harry demanded.
"What's wrong with it?" Draco pouted.
"I don't have a bloody mustache!"
"That's not a mustache, love. That's a mouth," Draco answered and
glared.
"Not to me, it isn't!" Harry insisted. "Put it lower."
"It looks fine like that. Now, go away."
"Draco." Harry shook his shoulder and looked pleadingly at him.
He shook his head vigorously.
"Please return to your seat, Mister Potter," McGonagall's voice made
Harry jump in surprise.
Harry grudgingly returned to his seat and Draco quickly erased the dark
blot. After several minutes, McGonagall announced to them that they had
to write a description on what they had drawn. Draco looked up and
gazed thoughtfully at his boyfriend sitting across the classroom.
Harry's cheeks were red with embarrassment. At the pleading look, Draco
raised his eyebrow.
Calmly, he wrote down the description for his work.
Harry Malfoy. Six years from now. I
see him in my future.
"Please write down your names on the back of the drawing paper,"
Professor McGonagall said clearly. "Then write down the name of a
person you wish to hold on to your drawing at the top, right hand
corner. Unfortunately, the person must be in the same room as you are
now."
Unabashedly, Draco quickly wrote Harry's name. Professor McGonagall
then went around the classroom to collect the drawings and Draco
noticed her lips quivering with mirth as she read his written words.
She was walking around the classroom, this time to give the drawings
away.
Draco was not surprised when his teacher had given him a sketch from
Harry. He looked at the drawing in his hand and blushed.
My love, Draco. I hope that this will
become a habit.
He read the words again and blushed harder. He wondered at Harry's
talent – Harry had drawn him sleeping on the Gryffindor's lap. Draco
felt really warm.
"Draco!"
He lifted his eyes at the voice.
"Do you really want me to grow a mustache six years from now?"
"That's not a mustache, you git! It's a bloody mouth!"
"Okay then. So, does that mean I can look forward to make you my
husband in six years?"
There were squeals and retching noises all around.
"I'll be disappointed if you don't."
Draco's lips quirked into a mischievous smile.
The End