[Fic:] Make you come home (Part 4/9)
Aug. 6th, 2018 07:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smirkingcatTitle: Make you come home (4/9)
Author :smirkingcat
Rating:PG-13
Word Count :1.150
Notes: used forhd_birthdaybash bingo card: picture square: “quill, inkwell and written page”
Summary: Draco receives his present. Sadly nothing ever is easy.
Warnings: angst – because you know this is me writing it
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Draco thought that once Potter has his cake, he would devour it, hand him his gift and ten finally bugger off to do what aurors did.
He was wrong about that.
Potter took one slow bite after another, and made sure to compliment Draco’s cake and his baking skills every so often.
It was annoying Draco for multiple reasons but mainly because it shortened his amount of sleep. And also because it was delaying him getting the ominous present.
It was a weakness of him to be overly curious and also easily excited about gifts. No matter how small or big, it always brought him delight if someone, mostly his mother but sometimes his father too, went through the trouble to get him something.
After some more of watching Potter eat cake Draco tsked.
"You are aware, Potter, that you are late for work and also are making me late for bed. So maybe it is time for you to go?"
He tried to sound polite, he did, however he was certain he sounded more tired and annoying.
"You are lucky that I'm a man of principles, Draco, otherwise I'd suggest a bet I couldn't lose about my being here,“ Potter grinned.
”At the moment, Potter, you are a man of great annoyance . Either make your point or go.“
Draco rubbed at his eyes and rolled his shoulders to fight the tiredness.
”I’m sorry. I- I underestimated how tired you must be. Here,“ Potter took out a small parcel wrapped in a shiny green paper with an elegant bow on top, ”happy birthday and many great returns to you.“
Carefully Draco took the gift, and let his fingers glide over the wrapping. It was a high quality paper and it felt good. He couldn’t help his simle, as he played with the bow for a moment, feeling its corves and where the knot held it together.
”Thank you, it’s - ”
”Why don’t you open it before you thank me,“ Potter suggested helpfully.
”Yes, I will, but... still thank you for thinking of me.“
Slowly Draco undid the wrapping. He stared for a moment, before he took out the quill, and the miniscule inkwell.
He laid those carefully on the table and reached for the last thing: a journal, that seemed old and used and thin for it’s purpose. The leather binding the journal though soft to the touch was of a brownish colour and nothing was etched in it.
”Thank you,“ Draco said again, though this time he sounded more confused than grateful.
He put the journal aside, and looked at the quill again.
”Where did you get such a nice feather? It looks a lot like-“
”-like the coat from Hermes? That’s because Hermes offered me one of his feathers to gift to you. He misses you. Your mother takes him on walks though the grounds, these days. But she thinks he would be happier to be allowed to find you.“
”He can’t the Ministry-“
”I know, Draco. I know. It’s just- look your owl wanted you to have something you can remember him by, and a quill was the easiest thing, ”Harry explained in a rushed way.
”Not enough ink here, to really use the quill though,“ Draco said critically.
”You are only allowed to use that ink, and that journal when I am here with you and you will promise me to do so.“
Draco looked up, as Harry’s tone has changed to sound hard, unforgiving.
”I do not use it at all, if that is what you want, but then why did you give it to me.“
”It’s a way... to communicate with your parents. Your mother to be precise,“ Harry whispered.
Draco stared, and then his eyes grew larger.
”I have heard of it, of these, but that magic is lost and...Potter, I can’t do magic anymore.“
He wanted this to work, but if what he had heard is true, then the writer has to infuse every letter with magic, something he could not do.
”You are thinking of something similar, but yet different. The journal belongs to your mother, this is a half of the one she uses each day, the quill comes from your owl, and the ink is infused with my magic. The love of your mother, the fidelity of your messenger, and the help of a friend. Theoretically the magic gathered should be strong enough for you and her to write to each other. But that is the thing, this is strong magic, strong blood magic in parts- I have to be here, to make sure nobody else will come. And we need to hope that for the trace my magic will outshine your mothers,“ Harry explained.
”This is ludicrous. You are not only endangering yourself, but my mother. If anybody finds out we are in contact, who knows what they will do to her. And what will happen with me,“ the last words were a barely audible whisper.
He wanted, oh how he wanted to be able to talk to his mother, to reassure her, that he was fine. But the risk.
It was such a high risk for a conversation only happening on paper.
”It will be fine, Draco, trust me and your mother. We worked hard on this. And you do not need to use it now. Maybe it is better you sleep on it. I shall come back in the evening, if you changed your mind then.“
”Where should I hide these?“ He asked, his mind still reeling.
”The only thing you really need to hide is the ink, as it contains my magic. But nobody should mind you owning a quill or a journal, as neither are magic per se. also nobody should be coming here, as long as I do,“ Potter grinned.
Draco stared at Harry. There was something, something in the back of his mind that could not make sense of that grin, or the words. There was something Potter was not telling him. But his eyes started to ache and he was so tired to get into that discussion now.
With a flick of his wand, Potter made his kitchen clean itself again, before he got up.
”Go to bed, Draco, and have a good day’s sleep,“ Potter said on his way out. As he passed Draco, he combed his fingers through Draco’s hair, before appareting away.
Odd did not even start to describe the feelings Draco had at the moment.
He put the wrapping back on his presents and hid the parcel in his wardrobe before he went to bed. He could talk to his mother again. He could ask her how she was, and if everything was alright.
But he must be careful... and it would only be writings, and he learned at Hogwarts that what he most missed was her smile, when he could not find his own.
Part 5
Author :
smirkingcatRating:PG-13
Word Count :1.150
Notes: used for
hd_birthdaybash bingo card: picture square: “quill, inkwell and written page”Summary: Draco receives his present. Sadly nothing ever is easy.
Warnings: angst – because you know this is me writing it
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Draco thought that once Potter has his cake, he would devour it, hand him his gift and ten finally bugger off to do what aurors did.
He was wrong about that.
Potter took one slow bite after another, and made sure to compliment Draco’s cake and his baking skills every so often.
It was annoying Draco for multiple reasons but mainly because it shortened his amount of sleep. And also because it was delaying him getting the ominous present.
It was a weakness of him to be overly curious and also easily excited about gifts. No matter how small or big, it always brought him delight if someone, mostly his mother but sometimes his father too, went through the trouble to get him something.
After some more of watching Potter eat cake Draco tsked.
"You are aware, Potter, that you are late for work and also are making me late for bed. So maybe it is time for you to go?"
He tried to sound polite, he did, however he was certain he sounded more tired and annoying.
"You are lucky that I'm a man of principles, Draco, otherwise I'd suggest a bet I couldn't lose about my being here,“ Potter grinned.
”At the moment, Potter, you are a man of great annoyance . Either make your point or go.“
Draco rubbed at his eyes and rolled his shoulders to fight the tiredness.
”I’m sorry. I- I underestimated how tired you must be. Here,“ Potter took out a small parcel wrapped in a shiny green paper with an elegant bow on top, ”happy birthday and many great returns to you.“
Carefully Draco took the gift, and let his fingers glide over the wrapping. It was a high quality paper and it felt good. He couldn’t help his simle, as he played with the bow for a moment, feeling its corves and where the knot held it together.
”Thank you, it’s - ”
”Why don’t you open it before you thank me,“ Potter suggested helpfully.
”Yes, I will, but... still thank you for thinking of me.“
Slowly Draco undid the wrapping. He stared for a moment, before he took out the quill, and the miniscule inkwell.
He laid those carefully on the table and reached for the last thing: a journal, that seemed old and used and thin for it’s purpose. The leather binding the journal though soft to the touch was of a brownish colour and nothing was etched in it.
”Thank you,“ Draco said again, though this time he sounded more confused than grateful.
He put the journal aside, and looked at the quill again.
”Where did you get such a nice feather? It looks a lot like-“
”-like the coat from Hermes? That’s because Hermes offered me one of his feathers to gift to you. He misses you. Your mother takes him on walks though the grounds, these days. But she thinks he would be happier to be allowed to find you.“
”He can’t the Ministry-“
”I know, Draco. I know. It’s just- look your owl wanted you to have something you can remember him by, and a quill was the easiest thing, ”Harry explained in a rushed way.
”Not enough ink here, to really use the quill though,“ Draco said critically.
”You are only allowed to use that ink, and that journal when I am here with you and you will promise me to do so.“
Draco looked up, as Harry’s tone has changed to sound hard, unforgiving.
”I do not use it at all, if that is what you want, but then why did you give it to me.“
”It’s a way... to communicate with your parents. Your mother to be precise,“ Harry whispered.
Draco stared, and then his eyes grew larger.
”I have heard of it, of these, but that magic is lost and...Potter, I can’t do magic anymore.“
He wanted this to work, but if what he had heard is true, then the writer has to infuse every letter with magic, something he could not do.
”You are thinking of something similar, but yet different. The journal belongs to your mother, this is a half of the one she uses each day, the quill comes from your owl, and the ink is infused with my magic. The love of your mother, the fidelity of your messenger, and the help of a friend. Theoretically the magic gathered should be strong enough for you and her to write to each other. But that is the thing, this is strong magic, strong blood magic in parts- I have to be here, to make sure nobody else will come. And we need to hope that for the trace my magic will outshine your mothers,“ Harry explained.
”This is ludicrous. You are not only endangering yourself, but my mother. If anybody finds out we are in contact, who knows what they will do to her. And what will happen with me,“ the last words were a barely audible whisper.
He wanted, oh how he wanted to be able to talk to his mother, to reassure her, that he was fine. But the risk.
It was such a high risk for a conversation only happening on paper.
”It will be fine, Draco, trust me and your mother. We worked hard on this. And you do not need to use it now. Maybe it is better you sleep on it. I shall come back in the evening, if you changed your mind then.“
”Where should I hide these?“ He asked, his mind still reeling.
”The only thing you really need to hide is the ink, as it contains my magic. But nobody should mind you owning a quill or a journal, as neither are magic per se. also nobody should be coming here, as long as I do,“ Potter grinned.
Draco stared at Harry. There was something, something in the back of his mind that could not make sense of that grin, or the words. There was something Potter was not telling him. But his eyes started to ache and he was so tired to get into that discussion now.
With a flick of his wand, Potter made his kitchen clean itself again, before he got up.
”Go to bed, Draco, and have a good day’s sleep,“ Potter said on his way out. As he passed Draco, he combed his fingers through Draco’s hair, before appareting away.
Odd did not even start to describe the feelings Draco had at the moment.
He put the wrapping back on his presents and hid the parcel in his wardrobe before he went to bed. He could talk to his mother again. He could ask her how she was, and if everything was alright.
But he must be careful... and it would only be writings, and he learned at Hogwarts that what he most missed was her smile, when he could not find his own.
Part 5
