Scorpius Malfoy-Potter has chosen this moment to debut his newfound vocabulary.
“Fuck! Piss! Shit! MERDE!” reverberates on an endless loop through the baby monitoring charm. Harry groans and throws an arm over Draco, who whinges at being woken up.
“You really need to pick a new word,” Harry croaks.
Microfic May 2022 - Day 19 - Humbug Series/AU: Our Screaming Souls
Harry crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow as he listened to the interplay between the two Gheyos, as they ‘explained’ the situation. He didn’t believe a single word that came out of their mouths, knowing that it was all humbug and they were only trying to cover their own asses. Did he really look that naive? Young, yes; naive, no.
When they finished, he let the silence linger for a moment, giving them both an unimpressed look. He tapped a fan against an arm, wondering if he should just whack them with it now or wait until later.
Later, he decided. Definitely later. Still, he continued to tap the fan against his arm as he spoke. “That was a very lovely piece of fiction. Let’s try the truth now, shall we?”
This time I’ve resorted to @microficmay’s alternative prompt 2: crisp. And not to the word’s most usual meaning, I guess. Also my take on Crookshanks’s background and on his interaction with Sirius is perhaps unusual. I hope this piece makes sense at least as chapter eleven of Is It True He’s Mad?
His filthy palm receives Harry’s envelope from the – helpful? – tom’s jaws. They stare together at a newspaper cutting: the picture featuring Wormtail.
He repeats what Harry asked the conductor. “London?”
Tom’s crisp answer (after the fluffy head has wriggled through a collar that says Figg): a leap into his arms.
Words: 50 Rating: K Fandom: Harry Potter Relationship: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Author: ordinarylittleme (tumblr|AO3) Challenge:@microficmay Prompt: #19 Humbug Notes: Thanks to the amazing @tenthousandyearsx for the format!
A secret? Are you mad? We have far too much between us to hide away like we’re ashamed, don’t you think?
I fail to see why we need to turn our relationship into a cloak-and-dagger operation - did you get addicted to secrecy during your Auror missions?
Let’s do this, Potter.
Ought we not to stop humbugging ourselves and face the real issue? We have known there would be no return from the moment we were aware - we have held memories of a thousand lives, interlaced with kind-of hatred that softened, eventually, into love - how are we to go forward now?
There was a big jar of Muggle sweets on Harry’s desk – humbugs, rhubarbs-and-pears, and mint drops – and, whenever Draco passed by, he always stopped to pinch one.
