Battles for Dominance and other Great Fanfiction Clichés
Written by: minnkunth
#Fandom: Harry Potter #Drarry #Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter #M/M #Rating: T #Chapters: 1/1 #Word count: 2,4k #Christmas #Mistletoe #First kiss #Humour #Bickering rivals #Oblivious boys #Denial
#As many clichés as I can fit under 3k words #Parody
How had it come to this again? Why did Harry Potter find himself in this same predicament time after time? How, for the love of Merlin’s beard, did he manage to get into a full blown feud again with his arch rival, Draco Malfoy, and on the last night before the winter holidays nonetheless.
Harry had been on his way back from visiting Hagrid, when he had come across Malfoy in the corridors. The stuck up blonde had sneered at Harry with some comment about his ragged looks, – at first Harry had heard the word rugged, but clearly he had misheard, it was Malfoy after all – obviously Harry had had to retort, and from there on things escalated pretty quickly. Now Harry was clenching fistfuls of Malfoy’s shirt collar and robes and shoving the git into the corridor wall. All Harry had wanted was a peaceful last evening before the holidays.
Only Malfoy could rile Harry up like this. This quarrel must be the gits fault.
The spoiled prat didn’t seem too happy to be thrusted at the wall either. ”Let go of me, you brainless goon! If you want to fight me, then do it like a civilized person and use a wand, you tosser”, he hissed down at the raven haired boy. Harry gritted his teeth in anger, but couldn’t help but wonder how Malfoy managed to look so lordly even shoved against a wall like that. Then he realised their faces were only inches apart, and despite enjoying the state the Slytherin was in, Harry didn’t like the idea of sharing such a personal space. Harry thought better to back up a bit.
Harry wasn’t going to let his grip go yet, but he could take a step back. Except he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his legs!
Harry glanced down, trying to yank his legs free, but they wouldn’t move. It felt like there was a wall behind Harry too. The only way his legs seemed to be able to shift to was forward, and that was not the direction he wanted to go.
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ”Release me and back the fuck off, Potter”, he commanded, his voice dripping with venom. Harry glared at the taller boy, but at least leaned back and let go of Malfoy’s collar. ”I’m trying, but I can’t! My legs are stuck. Look, try to move yourself.”
Malfoy glowered for awhile but then tried to slide away from between the raven boy and the wall. Soon his expression told that he was in the same distress as Harry.
Harry glanced around. Had someone hexed them? No one seemed to be around, the corridor was empty and silent.
Harry let out a frustrated sigh. ”Shit.”
”Fuck”, Malfoy seemed to agree.
”No, not that. That.”
Harry looked back at the blonde in confusion. He was staring up, brows burrowed in worry. Harry followed his gaze. There was something floating in the air above them. A wave of horror flashed over Harry upon realizing what it was.
They were stuck under a mistletoe.
”Er, do you think we’re going to have to–”
The raven boy huffed in irritation at Malfoy. As shocked as Harry was, he was getting tired of the repetitiveness of their conversation. He wasn’t happy about the situation, but obviously the mistletoe was jinxed (probably by Peeves, the poltergeist), and it wasn’t going away until they did something about it. Not that Harry was eager to – a nervous shiver ran through him with the following thought – do the unspeakable with Malfoy, but what else could he do? It would also probably be the quickest way out of this mess, if not the easiest. The spoiled prat was looking anywhere but at Harry, so somebody would have to muster up their courage and get them out of this mess. The spectacled boy sighed and was about to open his mouth, when Malfoy suddenly seemed to be done with his inner debate.
”Ugh, let’s just get this over with. I’d rather not spend the rest of the evening here looking at your stupid face.”
Harry was surprised that for once, they seemed to agree on something. ”Me neither.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes and leaned in to give Harry a haste peck on the lips. It was over before the Gryffindor had the time to register it.
Harry was yet again surprised, this time at Malfoy’s boldness. The blondes mouth was drawn in a thin line in apparent disgust. That immature wanker.
”Did it work?”
Harry decided against his urges to punch the posh git and instead tried to shift his legs back and to the sides. They wouldn’t move.
”We are still stuck.”
Malfoy groaned and slumped against the wall. Harry tried to ignore him and think. If a simple peck wouldn’t do, just how much would they have to do to get out of this? Peeves was most likely behind this hilarious prank. A terrifying reminder of the poltergeist’s usual crass songs crossed Harry’s mind.
”Do you think we’re going to have Fre–”
”Don’t say it out loud, Potter, I don’t want to think about it!”
Neither did Harry. A quick peck was one thing, a thing that could easily be shoved somewhere deep into the subconscious to ignore and to deny. But proper snogging was another thing completely.
Harry’s gaze flickered involuntarily to Malfoy’s mouth. Harry could see that his lips were plump and a beautiful shade of pink. The raven couldn’t help but wonder if they were as soft as they looked.
No, Harry didn’t want to dwell on these dreadful thoughts! He wanted to get this thing over with. Harry needed to muster up the famous Gryffindor courage and face the problem head on. A quick glance at the other boy told that he had lost his boldness from before, biting a lip nervously. A small part of Harry grew a bit smug from this. For all his boasting, the Malfoy heir was completely defeated by a tame peck, all pride gone from his normally such snobbish posture.
”Oi,” Harry snapped his fingers at the blonde to get his attention, ”we’re going to have to do this.” Malfoy sighed weakly, but pushed himself back on his feet. Harry grabbed the others robes again, and pulled him gently, but firmly, down to his face. ”I’m not going to do this more than once, so we better make it count, okay?” Malfoy’s only response was a silent nod.
Despite his resolve, Harry couldn’t move right away. His eyes were locked with Malfoy’s. For the first time Harry took notice of the colour of his rival’s eyes: they were a striking shade of icy grey, somehow simultaneously deeper and brighter than the rare ice on the Black lake. The long, lush eyelashes framed the eyes beautifully. Harry’s breath hiked a little embarrassingly at the undeniable beauty of Malfoy’s intense stare. The Gryffindor forced himself to lower his gaze, but got distracted again, this time with Malfoy’s sharp cheekbones. Harry had always thought that they made him look haughty, but now, with the ever so pale rosy pink blush even Harry had to admit that Malfoy looked gorgeous. Harry could only hope that taller boy couldn’t notice the heat on Harry’s cheeks.
Harry shook his head. He shouldn’t get side tracked. He needed to get this thing done and over with. He licked his own lips, shut his eyes and closed the last couple of inches between them.
It was a shy start. At first they were so nervous that they only brushed their lips together ever so gently, quite wary of each other. But Malfoy’s breath and the ghost kisses on Harry’s lips made him feel strangely tingly and giddy all over. Harry decided to ignore the possible meaning of that, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Soon he was feeling a little more poised, these butterfly kisses wouldn’t break the jinx. They needed to step up the game. Tilting his head and opening his mouth a little the raven boy deepened the kiss. In response, Malfoy placed his hands on Harry’s waist and leaned further in, suddenly seeming more eager to participate in the act. They were getting the hang of it and shared now a mutual rhythm. Harry’s stomach tightened in excitement.
Merlin, Malfoy might actually be a good kisser! And his lips were even softer than Harry had imagined! Too bad they were still Malfoy’s, otherwise Harry would have probably enjoyed kissing such soft, talented, delicious lips.
Harry realized that his hands were no longer gripping Malfoy’s robes, but resting on his collarbones. He felt the urge to caress them, but thought it a bit too intimate, so instead he slid his hands on the others shoulders, up his neck and ran them through the silky blond hair. That earned him a small gasp and a shudder from the taller boy. Interesting. Harry wondered what other kind of reactions he could get out of the proud boy.
Feeling braver by the second, Harry dared to lick the other boy’s lips tentatively, asking for an entrance. Malfoy complied and let Harry slide his tongue into his mouth. It was hot and wet and by all accounts it should have been disgusting, but it wasn’t. It was a spectacular feeling to raid another’s mouth like that. When the Slytherin experimentally sucked on Harry’s tongue, he didn’t care to hold it in anymore and let out a desperate moan. The raven was so busy exploring around the other’s mouth that he didn’t even notice Malfoy pulling Harry’s hips, bringing their bodies together. Arms around each others waist and neck they were holding onto each other for dear life.
Things were getting heated. Their tongues were now battling for dominance, trying to feel every bit of the other’s mouth they could reach. Unabashed moans were escaping from both of them, at times Harry couldn’t even identify which were his and which came from the other. He was feeling dizzy, he was afraid that his legs would’ve given out if Malfoy hadn’t been embracing him so tightly.
Finally Harry felt so out of breath he thought that he would suffocate. With a wet smack he broke the kiss, gasping for air. Malfoy let out a last, unappreciative groan, but he too seemed to have been at his limit, judging by the vigorous heaving. The taller boy rested his forehead against Harry’s. They were still holding each other, pulling out and standing on their own was not an option at the moment. Slowly Harry opened his eyes and lifted his gaze up to meet with Malfoy’s. His grey eyes had gone dark, pupils dilated. The green eyed boy was mesmerized, unaware of his own similar state.
They stayed like that for what felt like forever. Harry’s mind was hazy, he probably couldn’t have focused even if he wanted to. All Harry could think of was how his heart was pounding like crazy and that he hoped that the Slytherin couldn’t hear it.
Finally Malfoy broke their trance. He was still panting quite heavily when he uttered lazily: ”Well, if that didn’t qualify…”
With that Harry remembered that there was a reason for their kissing. Unfortunately now he was facing a new, even more horrifying dilemma: he didn’t want to separate anymore! How was it possible? It was Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake! It must be the jinx in the mistletoe, how else could Harry possibly want to smash his lips against Malfoy’s again, to embrace him tighter and never let go!
But he had to let go, he couldn’t have the git getting any wrong ideas.
Harry had to force himself to lean back and let his arms fall down from Malfoy’s shoulders. His fingers were immediately itching to get back to playing with the blond locks of hair. Harry took a deep breath and willed himself to take a step back. He exclaimed in relief when he took one, two and three steps, and tried to ignore the part of him that was disappointed at the success.
Harry lifted his gaze to beam up at Malfoy, but was a little startled at the blond boy’s expression. The other one was eyeing him curiously, and genuinely smiling back to him. Harry couldn’t help but swallow nervously.
Their problem was now solved, but it left the raven haired boy confused about where they were standing with their earlier fight. It didn’t feel appropriate to continue their row after snogging each other silly. But there was definitely some strange tension hanging between them, and Harry didn’t know what to do with it.
The small part of Harry – that was still definitely under the jinx – was pestering at the back of his mind that they should go back to the sucking faces bit. Harry shuddered and reminded himself that even if he actually wanted to do that, he was still dealing with Malfoy. Whom still was his rival, and an undeniably competent wizard. Competent apparently in more ways than Harry had ever dared to imagine, he found himself frustratingly thinking. Who knows what the git would do to retaliate such risky behaviour.
Harry realised that he had been staring at Malfoy’s lips again and the silence was getting awkwardly long. The other boy’s smile was turning into a satisfied smirk.
The raven embarrassedly cleared his throat. ”So, what do we do now? Er, about the fight–”, he struggled to continue when he realised that he didn’t even recall what they had been originally brawling about.
Somewhere amidst Harry’s awkward shuffling Malfoy had found again his prideful spirit and regal posture. He waved his hand dismissively at Harry. ”Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head with that, it was a petty dispute anyway.” The usual snarky bite was gone, his voice sounded actually sincere. ”Bygones in the spirit of the holidays, and all that. What do you say?”
Harry’s jaw had dropped at the unexpected proposal, but he managed to mumble an agreeable answer.
Seemingly satisfied with that, Malfoy swiftly passed Harry and walked away. At the turn of the corridor he stopped and glanced back at the still dumbfounded Gryffindor. He eyed Harry up and down and flashed a mischievous smirk.
”Happy holidays, Potter!”
Harry forced himself to get a grip and waved back: ”Happy holidays, Malfoy!”
Harry watched Malfoy disappear behind the corner, and could hear him beginning to whistle some Christmas carol. A smile crept slowly up on Harry’s face, and he began his walk back to the Gryffindor tower, utterly in denial about the jolly strut in his steps.