![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sesheta66Title: No Home for the Holidays - part 4
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2100
Pairing/Characters: Harry, Draco (eventual H/D)
Summary: Nothing like some fresh air to clear one‘s head.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: Written as a continuation of a story begun in response to Christmas prompts for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
awdt's Christmas Quickies, dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, slythindor100's Special Holiday Challenge, harrylovesdraco's Christmas Challenge, and IJ's adventdrabbles, though this part does not use any prompts. But I promise the next part does. :)
********
Click here to start at the beginning.
No Home for the Holidays - Part 4
Harry was perplexed. And it was all Malfoy's fault.
He had no idea what he'd done this time, besides taking a seat in front of Malfoy at the table. They'd had a perfectly acceptable breakfast together - which still baffled Harry, but that was beside the point. Their breakfast included food that Harry hadn't had to choke down, once his tea went down the correct pipe and he stopped blushing. And what was that about anyway?
Harry was used to wearing his emotions on his sleeve, but blushing at a simple remark - hell, it hadn't even really been a remark. More of a look as if to make a remark. But that look did something to Harry, and he couldn't figure out for the life of himself why.
But back to Malfoy. They'd had breakfast, and it hadn't come to blows … er … Harry felt his cheeks flame again. Merlin, he was blushing at his own innuendo with no one else present. His thoughts wandered wildly and he tried to reel them in.
No fighting had occurred, not even any insults were thrown around - except half-hearted, all-in-jest ones, and wasn't that a pleasant change? So Harry decided to sit near Malfoy for lunch. Then he spit out that they weren't friends. Well … hello? They were able to have a meal without beating each other …oh, Gods. Why must his mind wander so?
"Straighten up, Potter!" he told himself. Then he replayed his words and, at the knowledge that he was acting like a pubescent boy, he collapsed on his bed in a fit of laughter.
This was crazy. He needed to get his mind off Malfoy for a little while. He had no idea what was going on with the Slytherin, or in his own mind for that matter. He needed to focus his jumbled thoughts. Or forget them altogether. Yes, that would be great.
He grabbed his broomstick and headed outside. The fresh air ought to do him some good.
~*~*~
Draco was enjoying the feel of the cold air against his face. The chill cleared his head like nothing else would, and Draco welcomed it. His thoughts were directed at staying steady on his broom as he flew around the pitch, performing dives and rolls as though he were manoeuvering in a Quidditch match.
He'd forgotten how good it felt, how invigorating it was to fly. Strange, since he'd been at the Manor all summer, and it was his favourite place to go flying, but he hadn't once got on his broom. He and his mother had spent the time redecorating. Well, not so much redecorating as gutting the place and eradicating any sign that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been there. The two of them had been rather single-minded about the effort.
Draco laughed sardonically, as he thought again about his mother, and how she'd just got the place the way she'd liked it - Draco suspected that she had enjoyed removing traces of some of the Malfoys along the way - when she'd been killed.
He blinked back the thought and began to ascend; higher and higher he soared, then suddenly he reversed and began to plummet towards the ground. His heart was racing, the wind was roaring in his ears, and he hadn't felt this alive for a long time. Just as he approached the point of no return, he pulled up on the handle and … yes! He had done it. He had just performed a perfect Wronski Feint.
He began to circle the pitch, looping occasionally and feeling the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders, even if just for a moment.
~*~*~
Harry approached the pitch, but stopped when he saw the lone figure circling the field. There was no mistaking that white blonde hair. And even without that distinguishing feature, Harry would recognise that flying anywhere. He walked up to the benches and took a seat, content to watch a superb flyer at his best. And make no mistake. This was definitely Malfoy at his best.
Harry had always appreciated his skill as a flyer, but now, here, unencumbered by other players, the snitch, or the ever-present threat of bludgers, Malfoy was poetry in motion. A cliché, to be sure, but there was no other way to describe it. The man was fluid in the air, almost dancing. Harry knew he was a superb flyer himself - after all, it came naturally to him - but he also knew his skill was raw, rough, and aggressive. Malfoy, on the other hand, was polished, refined, and graceful, almost as though his body were an extension of the broom, or the other way round.
He was breathtaking. No sooner did that thought cross Harry's mind, when Malfoy began to climb higher and higher. Harry wondered if he planned to simply carry on and not return. A strange feeling of unease fell over Harry at the thought. Then Malfoy began to fall towards the ground. Harry watched, fascinated at first, then concerned. Unable to stop himself, as Malfoy didn't seem to be losing any speed as the ground was getting closer and closer, Harry jumped onto his broom and flew out to meet him.
What he was planning to do, Harry didn't know, because even as he flew towards the pitch, his brain was telling him that he wouldn't be able to stop Malfoy in time. The best he could do would be to get him medical attention.
Just as he pictured the Slytherin's body splattered all over the pitch, Malfoy pulled out of the dive, executing the most seamless Feint Harry had ever seen. Better even than he'd seen in a professional match. He felt his heart racing as he watched Malfoy do a circuit of the pitch in celebration.
"Wow!" he said as Malfoy pulled up alongside him, looking none too impressed that he‘d had an audience. "That was incredible." And he meant it.
The smile Harry received in return nearly knocked him off his broom. He'd never seen Malfoy's face so open, so alive, so gorgeous. Merlin, I'm screwed.
~*~*~
Draco had completed his victory lap to find that his privacy had been invaded, yet again, by bloody Potter. Couldn't he just leave him the hell alone? Why did he always have to be there … tracking Draco, judging him, besting him? He couldn't even have this moment to himself without it being marred by the presence of the Boy Who Never Knew When to Back Off.
Draco flew towards Potter, ready for battle, ready to give him a piece of his mind. But then Potter said, "Wow!" Draco nearly fell off his broom. And wouldn't that be so typical of an encounter with the Chosen One? "That was incredible," he'd said, and it took only a split second for Draco to realise that he wasn't kidding. That he meant it.
He couldn't help it. A smile spread over his face. Not that Potter's opinion mattered to him, of course. It was just … Draco knew he'd kicked arse with that Feint, and it felt good - no, it felt great - to have that acknowledged. Even if it was by the Golden Boy. Maybe especially from him.
Draco watched as Potter's face held nothing back. He was genuinely impressed with Draco's flying, and when their eyes met, there was something else. Some glint in Potter's eye that Draco had never seen before.
Some heretofore restrained dancers started moving around in the vicinity of Draco's stomach, and he couldn't be bothered to care. He wanted to see that look in Potter's eyes again. And he wanted to be the cause of it.
Merlin, I'm fucked.
~*~*~
"A game of one-on-one, Potter?" he asked.
"Absolutely." Harry didn't have to consider before agreeing. His skin was tingling with anticipation. He went to the supply shed, retrieved a school snitch, and returned in short order.
"So when did you get this good?" Harry asked in what he hoped was a teasing and not offensive tone.
"I've always been good, Potter. You've just never noticed."
Harry released the snitch. "Oh, I noticed all right," he said, and took off on his broom after the golden ball.
A few laps and several flips and rolls later, Malfoy pulled up to his side. "So, if you noticed, why did you ask?"
Harry dipped down, then did a loop around Malfoy and came back up beside him. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Show off."
Harry grinned widely. "You've always been a great flyer. The only challenge I ever really had here at school. You've just never been this good before."
Malfoy's mouth fell open. "You just …you said …you think I'm a great flyer?"
Harry did another acrobatic move and received a glare for his efforts. Deciding that he'd already stuck his neck out, he figured he might as well go all the way. Curtailing where that thought took his mind - why are all these thoughts suddenly infiltrating his brain where Malfoy's concerned? - he levelled his broom beside his opponent.
"I'm not an idiot, Malfoy. Anyone who watched you play could see that you're a brilliant flyer. And it's not just your skill - anyone with time, patience and determination can develop that. It's the way you fly. It's like the broom is a part of you, like your magic blends with it, and …well, let's just say that you make it look easy. Like it comes naturally to you."
Malfoy's expression was a mixture of astonishment and glee. Harry could tell he wanted to preen, but he looked too shocked to do it properly.
"Don't let it go to your head," Harry said.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. Malfoy joined him. This time, laughing with Malfoy wasn't awkward at all. In fact, it felt natural to Harry. As natural at laughing with Ron. And wasn't that an interesting revelation.
The moment was broken as Malfoy's eyes darted away and his body tensed. Harry recognised that look. He'd seen the snitch. As Malfoy took off, Harry was mere inches behind. With the wind whistling past his ears, cold air in his face, he and Malfoy racing for the snitch, suddenly everything felt right. Like things might actually be normal again someday.
~*~*~
Shit! Shit, shit, shit! "Arrgh!"
Potter - the stupid git - flashed a huge smile in Draco's direction, waving the snitch in front of his face as he gloated over the win.
"Aw," Potter said as he slapped Draco on the back. "Don't take it too badly, mate."
Draco's mind took a moment to register that last word with a sense of satisfaction. It had taken nearly eight years to get there, but maybe it really was possible. Draco supposed it was worth not getting to the snitch first. There would always be next time.
"I told you not to let it go to your head." Potter winked at Draco and walked towards the shed.
The wink Potter had thrown his way threw off Draco's equilibrium. So much so that it took a minute or two to process what Potter had said, and Draco felt a wave of disappointment wash over him, his elation from a few seconds ago crushed. A feeling quickly replaced by anger. Draco stormed off after him. When he caught up to Potter, he'd just returned the snitch to its case and was placing it on the shelf.
"So it was all just a ploy? A trick to get me to drop my guard?" Draco carefully masked his feeling of …no, he wasn't hurt; he was angry. "Why, Potter … I wouldn't have thought the Golden Boy of Gryffindor would sink to such tactics."
Potter looked confused. How utterly typical. "What?" he asked.
"You. Spouting all that drivel about my flying. It was all just a ruse." Draco took a deep breath, ensuring his voice didn't break. Mates. Yeah, right. What had he been thinking? "How very Slytherin of you, Potter." Then he stomped away, trying to get as much distance between them as possible.
"Malfoy!" Draco ignored him. "Oi! Malfoy!"
Draco made it down to the dungeons, Potter still trying to keep up, every once in a while calling out for Draco to stop. As he approached the stretch of wall that would take him to the Slytherin common room, Draco turned round and shouted, Impedimenta, hitting Potter full in the chest. Stupid Gryffindor.
Then Draco went inside, and up to his dorm, trying to quell the sense of betrayal he felt pressing in on his chest.
Part 5
Author:
sesheta_66 Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2100
Pairing/Characters: Harry, Draco (eventual H/D)
Summary: Nothing like some fresh air to clear one‘s head.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: Written as a continuation of a story begun in response to Christmas prompts for
awdt's Christmas Quickies, dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, slythindor100's Special Holiday Challenge, harrylovesdraco's Christmas Challenge, and IJ's adventdrabbles, though this part does not use any prompts. But I promise the next part does. :) ********
Click here to start at the beginning.
Harry was perplexed. And it was all Malfoy's fault.
He had no idea what he'd done this time, besides taking a seat in front of Malfoy at the table. They'd had a perfectly acceptable breakfast together - which still baffled Harry, but that was beside the point. Their breakfast included food that Harry hadn't had to choke down, once his tea went down the correct pipe and he stopped blushing. And what was that about anyway?
Harry was used to wearing his emotions on his sleeve, but blushing at a simple remark - hell, it hadn't even really been a remark. More of a look as if to make a remark. But that look did something to Harry, and he couldn't figure out for the life of himself why.
But back to Malfoy. They'd had breakfast, and it hadn't come to blows … er … Harry felt his cheeks flame again. Merlin, he was blushing at his own innuendo with no one else present. His thoughts wandered wildly and he tried to reel them in.
No fighting had occurred, not even any insults were thrown around - except half-hearted, all-in-jest ones, and wasn't that a pleasant change? So Harry decided to sit near Malfoy for lunch. Then he spit out that they weren't friends. Well … hello? They were able to have a meal without beating each other …oh, Gods. Why must his mind wander so?
"Straighten up, Potter!" he told himself. Then he replayed his words and, at the knowledge that he was acting like a pubescent boy, he collapsed on his bed in a fit of laughter.
This was crazy. He needed to get his mind off Malfoy for a little while. He had no idea what was going on with the Slytherin, or in his own mind for that matter. He needed to focus his jumbled thoughts. Or forget them altogether. Yes, that would be great.
He grabbed his broomstick and headed outside. The fresh air ought to do him some good.
Draco was enjoying the feel of the cold air against his face. The chill cleared his head like nothing else would, and Draco welcomed it. His thoughts were directed at staying steady on his broom as he flew around the pitch, performing dives and rolls as though he were manoeuvering in a Quidditch match.
He'd forgotten how good it felt, how invigorating it was to fly. Strange, since he'd been at the Manor all summer, and it was his favourite place to go flying, but he hadn't once got on his broom. He and his mother had spent the time redecorating. Well, not so much redecorating as gutting the place and eradicating any sign that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been there. The two of them had been rather single-minded about the effort.
Draco laughed sardonically, as he thought again about his mother, and how she'd just got the place the way she'd liked it - Draco suspected that she had enjoyed removing traces of some of the Malfoys along the way - when she'd been killed.
He blinked back the thought and began to ascend; higher and higher he soared, then suddenly he reversed and began to plummet towards the ground. His heart was racing, the wind was roaring in his ears, and he hadn't felt this alive for a long time. Just as he approached the point of no return, he pulled up on the handle and … yes! He had done it. He had just performed a perfect Wronski Feint.
He began to circle the pitch, looping occasionally and feeling the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders, even if just for a moment.
Harry approached the pitch, but stopped when he saw the lone figure circling the field. There was no mistaking that white blonde hair. And even without that distinguishing feature, Harry would recognise that flying anywhere. He walked up to the benches and took a seat, content to watch a superb flyer at his best. And make no mistake. This was definitely Malfoy at his best.
Harry had always appreciated his skill as a flyer, but now, here, unencumbered by other players, the snitch, or the ever-present threat of bludgers, Malfoy was poetry in motion. A cliché, to be sure, but there was no other way to describe it. The man was fluid in the air, almost dancing. Harry knew he was a superb flyer himself - after all, it came naturally to him - but he also knew his skill was raw, rough, and aggressive. Malfoy, on the other hand, was polished, refined, and graceful, almost as though his body were an extension of the broom, or the other way round.
He was breathtaking. No sooner did that thought cross Harry's mind, when Malfoy began to climb higher and higher. Harry wondered if he planned to simply carry on and not return. A strange feeling of unease fell over Harry at the thought. Then Malfoy began to fall towards the ground. Harry watched, fascinated at first, then concerned. Unable to stop himself, as Malfoy didn't seem to be losing any speed as the ground was getting closer and closer, Harry jumped onto his broom and flew out to meet him.
What he was planning to do, Harry didn't know, because even as he flew towards the pitch, his brain was telling him that he wouldn't be able to stop Malfoy in time. The best he could do would be to get him medical attention.
Just as he pictured the Slytherin's body splattered all over the pitch, Malfoy pulled out of the dive, executing the most seamless Feint Harry had ever seen. Better even than he'd seen in a professional match. He felt his heart racing as he watched Malfoy do a circuit of the pitch in celebration.
"Wow!" he said as Malfoy pulled up alongside him, looking none too impressed that he‘d had an audience. "That was incredible." And he meant it.
The smile Harry received in return nearly knocked him off his broom. He'd never seen Malfoy's face so open, so alive, so gorgeous. Merlin, I'm screwed.
Draco had completed his victory lap to find that his privacy had been invaded, yet again, by bloody Potter. Couldn't he just leave him the hell alone? Why did he always have to be there … tracking Draco, judging him, besting him? He couldn't even have this moment to himself without it being marred by the presence of the Boy Who Never Knew When to Back Off.
Draco flew towards Potter, ready for battle, ready to give him a piece of his mind. But then Potter said, "Wow!" Draco nearly fell off his broom. And wouldn't that be so typical of an encounter with the Chosen One? "That was incredible," he'd said, and it took only a split second for Draco to realise that he wasn't kidding. That he meant it.
He couldn't help it. A smile spread over his face. Not that Potter's opinion mattered to him, of course. It was just … Draco knew he'd kicked arse with that Feint, and it felt good - no, it felt great - to have that acknowledged. Even if it was by the Golden Boy. Maybe especially from him.
Draco watched as Potter's face held nothing back. He was genuinely impressed with Draco's flying, and when their eyes met, there was something else. Some glint in Potter's eye that Draco had never seen before.
Some heretofore restrained dancers started moving around in the vicinity of Draco's stomach, and he couldn't be bothered to care. He wanted to see that look in Potter's eyes again. And he wanted to be the cause of it.
Merlin, I'm fucked.
"A game of one-on-one, Potter?" he asked.
"Absolutely." Harry didn't have to consider before agreeing. His skin was tingling with anticipation. He went to the supply shed, retrieved a school snitch, and returned in short order.
"So when did you get this good?" Harry asked in what he hoped was a teasing and not offensive tone.
"I've always been good, Potter. You've just never noticed."
Harry released the snitch. "Oh, I noticed all right," he said, and took off on his broom after the golden ball.
A few laps and several flips and rolls later, Malfoy pulled up to his side. "So, if you noticed, why did you ask?"
Harry dipped down, then did a loop around Malfoy and came back up beside him. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Show off."
Harry grinned widely. "You've always been a great flyer. The only challenge I ever really had here at school. You've just never been this good before."
Malfoy's mouth fell open. "You just …you said …you think I'm a great flyer?"
Harry did another acrobatic move and received a glare for his efforts. Deciding that he'd already stuck his neck out, he figured he might as well go all the way. Curtailing where that thought took his mind - why are all these thoughts suddenly infiltrating his brain where Malfoy's concerned? - he levelled his broom beside his opponent.
"I'm not an idiot, Malfoy. Anyone who watched you play could see that you're a brilliant flyer. And it's not just your skill - anyone with time, patience and determination can develop that. It's the way you fly. It's like the broom is a part of you, like your magic blends with it, and …well, let's just say that you make it look easy. Like it comes naturally to you."
Malfoy's expression was a mixture of astonishment and glee. Harry could tell he wanted to preen, but he looked too shocked to do it properly.
"Don't let it go to your head," Harry said.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. Malfoy joined him. This time, laughing with Malfoy wasn't awkward at all. In fact, it felt natural to Harry. As natural at laughing with Ron. And wasn't that an interesting revelation.
The moment was broken as Malfoy's eyes darted away and his body tensed. Harry recognised that look. He'd seen the snitch. As Malfoy took off, Harry was mere inches behind. With the wind whistling past his ears, cold air in his face, he and Malfoy racing for the snitch, suddenly everything felt right. Like things might actually be normal again someday.
Shit! Shit, shit, shit! "Arrgh!"
Potter - the stupid git - flashed a huge smile in Draco's direction, waving the snitch in front of his face as he gloated over the win.
"Aw," Potter said as he slapped Draco on the back. "Don't take it too badly, mate."
Draco's mind took a moment to register that last word with a sense of satisfaction. It had taken nearly eight years to get there, but maybe it really was possible. Draco supposed it was worth not getting to the snitch first. There would always be next time.
"I told you not to let it go to your head." Potter winked at Draco and walked towards the shed.
The wink Potter had thrown his way threw off Draco's equilibrium. So much so that it took a minute or two to process what Potter had said, and Draco felt a wave of disappointment wash over him, his elation from a few seconds ago crushed. A feeling quickly replaced by anger. Draco stormed off after him. When he caught up to Potter, he'd just returned the snitch to its case and was placing it on the shelf.
"So it was all just a ploy? A trick to get me to drop my guard?" Draco carefully masked his feeling of …no, he wasn't hurt; he was angry. "Why, Potter … I wouldn't have thought the Golden Boy of Gryffindor would sink to such tactics."
Potter looked confused. How utterly typical. "What?" he asked.
"You. Spouting all that drivel about my flying. It was all just a ruse." Draco took a deep breath, ensuring his voice didn't break. Mates. Yeah, right. What had he been thinking? "How very Slytherin of you, Potter." Then he stomped away, trying to get as much distance between them as possible.
"Malfoy!" Draco ignored him. "Oi! Malfoy!"
Draco made it down to the dungeons, Potter still trying to keep up, every once in a while calling out for Draco to stop. As he approached the stretch of wall that would take him to the Slytherin common room, Draco turned round and shouted, Impedimenta, hitting Potter full in the chest. Stupid Gryffindor.
Then Draco went inside, and up to his dorm, trying to quell the sense of betrayal he felt pressing in on his chest.
Part 5
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 12:48 am (UTC)Great chapter hon.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 02:17 am (UTC)can't wait to see what happens next...
:D
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 03:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 04:25 am (UTC)Great chapter!
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 05:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 05:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 05:11 am (UTC)Next post should be up tomorrow.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 05:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 08:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 06:04 am (UTC)*cries*
*throws self on ground for whopping temper tantrum*
(is it working?)
Okay, okay, I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! FLYING! WOOT!!!!!
And GUH, their mutual, gradual realizations. And then Draco's damned mistrust surfacing again. *sobs*
Of course, that means this fic will go on for a bit, so... YAY ANGST! LOL!
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 08:59 am (UTC)Yes, it shall go on for a bit. ;) Next one tomorrow ... er, later today.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 08:25 am (UTC)And it was all going so well, too. :(
Silly Draco...
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 08:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 09:30 am (UTC)excellent
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Date: 2008-12-28 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 10:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 03:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 05:00 pm (UTC)*shakes head*
This is still going nicely! *jumps around* So glad you're writing this. Sorry, I wasn't around much these days so I read this in one go. It's your fault I haven't paused to comment. The next part links were to tempting. :D
no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:54 am (UTC)No worries, hon. I've been catching up on others' posts gradually myself. Crazy time of year with all the fests & advent/Christmas challenges, on top of regular stuff.
Next part is up now. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 07:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:55 am (UTC)I'm sure they'll work it out in the end.
Part 5 is up now.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:56 am (UTC)And Harry never gives up. ;)
no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:29 am (UTC)This is by no means a crticism but I just wondered why you - and a lot of others - use the word 'shite' instead of 'shit'?
no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:49 am (UTC)'Shite' is a British thing. Not that 'shit' isn't used also, but 'shite' is very common. Certain of my family members will often say: "Oh shit!" [expletive] or "You're full of shite." [as a noun]
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-05 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-05 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 10:04 am (UTC)The smile Harry received in return nearly knocked him off his broom. He'd never seen Malfoy's face so open, so alive, so gorgeous. Merlin, I'm screwed.
Yes, yes you are Harry and it's good that you admitted it.
Great work! :)
no subject
Date: 2009-02-08 07:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-27 07:19 am (UTC)~Mab
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Date: 2009-08-01 04:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-19 08:43 pm (UTC)LOOOOOOOVE
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Date: 2010-03-24 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-24 10:59 pm (UTC)Now poor Harry's even more confused than usual!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-24 11:04 pm (UTC)