Harry Potter Drabble

It's late. That's all I have to say.

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Harry Potter’s wand gave a shudder, and the older boy gave a start as he looked at its general direction. No, not the wand between the legs of his very fashionable Hogwarts uniform pants, but the one he casts spells with. Well, they both are quite magical, aren’t they. Meanwhile, the wand was sparkling as a familiar name was visible on the wood. Harry ought to have cast the spell earlier to block out that boy’s magic frequencies. Figuring he would be harassed by that annoyingly good looking face later on anyway for not having the big strong man balls to answer him, the brunette grudgingly lifted his wand up and gave it two taps.

He waited for that irritating, but sensual voice.

“Hey Harry, you know that Slytherins are well known for their sexual abilities?” Malfoy quipped cheekily.

“…I wouldn’t know,” Harry responded, and tried to be as unmindful as possible.

“All that Gryffindor’s got is a noisy growl and no pounce to prove it.”

“…Well good for you, you have such a good reputation.”

There was a brief pause.

“So…”

“So…what, Malfoy? Now you’re going to tell me about the latest Slytherin goss and offer me some Bertie Botts in strawberry flavour, as we indulge in our youthful shenanigans?”

“You know Potter, I never would have guessed you had such a funny bone in you.”

“Yeah, I usually come across as really boring with no personality or unique characteristics, whilst I pretend to be an angsty teenager with one too many problems, don’t I?”

“Yes, while I am always portrayed as the sleek rich vampiristic master of seduction who is always drop dead gorgeous in any situation, wherein you always end up wanting to fuck me, but is challenged by your rivalry complex and the fight between evil and good.”

“Very good, Malfoy. Argh! My scar.”

“What the devil is going on with you, scarface?”

“Nothing. I just haven’t said that in a while.”

“Touché.”