Title: Wassail, Round 4
Author: Constant Vigilance
Status: FIN
Email: tirel@pcnuthut.com
Website: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/
Rating: PG
Pairing: H/D
Spoilers: None. AU 7th
year.
Warnings: Slash, panty sniffing,
Slytherin machinations
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR is
God.
Summary: Harry and Draco question
the staff.
Notes: Written for The
Hexfiles December Challenge. 500 words using ‘wassail’, ‘charm’, and
‘solstice.’
Draco pried the panties out of
Hagrid’s meaty grip and eyed them closely, turning them this way and that.
Harry looked ill. “What the hell are you doing?” the Gryffindor asked queasily.
“I’m checking for any hairs stuck
in the elastic,” Draco replied absently. Harry turned greener. Draco brought
the panties up close to his face and inhaled slightly. Harry stared in horror.
“A-are you sniffing them?”
he squealed.
Draco flushed. “Of course not.
Idiot,” he muttered, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I’m just getting a
closer look, making sure not to miss anything.” Harry made a gagging motion,
shivered and headed back in the direction of the Great Hall. Draco eyed Harry’s
back cautiously, took one more surreptitious inhale, and followed along.
Back in the Great Hall, all the
professors had finally dragged arse out of their rooms and converged upon
breakfast…some looking much worse for the wear. Snape had made it back as well
and he cast a wary look at Harry as the boys walked into the room.
“Excuse me, professors,” Draco
called out. He plastered a concerned look on his face. “Harry and I were headed
out to the pitch this morning for a fly when we came across our beloved Hagrid
passed out on the ground!” Harry thought he was going a bit over the top. After
all, every soul in the school knew that Draco despised the hairy groundskeeper.
Draco, however, seemed to enjoy his role of drama queen.
“We were ever so worried,” the
blonde continued, fluttering his lashes. “It was such a long night…Solstice,
you know.” Some of the professors looked a bit ill at the reminder. “And it was
ever so cold out there. Poor Hagrid hadn’t even a warming charm to keep him
toasty!” Draco looked down briefly, shaking his head in sorrow. Harry turned
his choking laughter into a half-hearted cough.
“All he had was a jug of wassail,
this pair of darling panties,” he held up the undergarment and twirled
it around on his finger, “and the thoughts of his beloved Petal.” Draco glanced
up, eyes brimming with tears…only Harry knew they were of laughter…and held out
his hands (and thusly the panties) beseechingly. “Does anyone know who Hagrid’s
Petal is? The poor man is practically pining away in his sleep!”
Both boys had been inconspicuously
eyeing the staff to see who reacted to Draco's ‘terrible news.’ Looks of
confusion and bewilderment covered the faces of all the staff…save one.
Severus Snape began to squirm at
the mention of Hagrid’s sleeping spot. His eyes widened in horror at the sight
of Draco twirling the panties on his finger like an American muggle gunfighter.
And he turned positively stark white at the mention of the name Petal.
Draco raised his hand to his mouth
to cover a tiny grin. He leaned over to whisper in Harry’s ear. “I think we’ve
found our lovely little flower.”
Harry just snorted and smirked at
his partner in crime. “And just think…you sniffed his drawers.”
