amanuensis1 | LJ Drabble Night, Feb 20 (yup, this is late), 2004

Belated Drabble Night stuff for LJ Drabble Night. The theme was proverbs.

Draco/Ron, absence makes the heart grow fonder (challenge by

goseaward)

"Where the fuck have you been?" said Ron. "Get naked."

"And once again," Draco sighed, folding his arms, "I am wooed with romance."

"Romance?" Ron was already on his knees in front of him and had the trouser placket half-open. "You lying sack of shite. The one time, the one time I sent you a birthday card with a sentimental message, you faked puking for an hour and kept repeating 'Heart's delight?' for three bloody days." He gave the already-purpling head of Draco's erection a slow lick, the groan it prompted an even stronger stimulus to his own interested cock than even the smell and flavor of Draco's musky crotch. "Fucker pretends he wants romance. My arse." He adjusted his position for his knees' comfort, and began sucking in earnest.

"I expect flowers next time," Draco bleated as his hands searched for something to grip, finally settling on Ron's hair.

Lucius/Fudge, neither a borrower nor a lender be (challenge by

venivincere)

"Two hundred thousand galleons," Lucius Malfoy said with impeccable enunciation, even as he plunged to the hilt in the Minister of Magic's arse.

"Two huhhhnn--" Fudge was not so articulate.

"I trust that will insure the tax increase on electrical Muggle items goes through?" He had paused in mid-thrust for that statement, and now brought the riding crop to his hand with a soft accio.

Fudge huffed and uhrumed some more, and then said, "It's--it's a most generous loan, Lucius..."

"Nonsense." Lucius flicked the crop against the Minister's pudgy flanks, left-right, left-right. "Not a loan, but a gift. My very great pleasure to give it."

Fudge's passionate breathing hitched with a not-unexpected urk of panic. "But--if, under Veritaserum, I'm asked if I--"

"Oh, really, Cornelius, such a silly precaution. Now, say thank you for my gift, or I'll have to stop."

"Th-thank--ahh!"

"Much better."

Remus/anyone, look before you leap (challenge by

isiscolo)

"I love you," hears Remus, and he's standing in the Department of Mysteries, in front of the veil.

"I love you," hears Remus, and it's oh so soft, as if spoken across great distances, and yet filled with conviction.

"I love you," hears Remus, and knows that the voice speaks of history and heartache and home, and nights where he will never have to be alone again.

"I love you," hears Remus, and realizes that it's coming from behind him.

Remus turns from the veil. There Harry stands, arms folded tightly as if he can't get warm.

Remus opens his arms to draw him in.

Snape/Harry, One kind word can warm three winter months (challenge by

_hannelore)

Bodies in rhythm, bodies locked as if fighting to the death. Then, as if both combatants changed their minds on a whim, bodies separate to pant and shudder and let the aftershocks drain into the ether.

Then, before his sweat can even trickle from his armpits to join the other stains on the white sheets, Harry rises from the bed, and begins to dress: first socks, so that he may stand on the chill stone floor without such discomfort, next shirt, and only then his pants, camouflaging the last of his wilting erection.

Such a well-rehearsed ritual, this.

That night, Snape interrupts it.

"Stay."

The nights are warm, that winter.

And I'm going to see if I can catch up with KR Drabble Night as well!