reenka

So. Since my paid account is about to die, I thought I'd make a poll.

You know, it was kinda fun doing those drabbles for people in June... and I surprised myself with being able to do things I never thought possible. I only failed with Lucius/Ron, but really, that's not something one can drabble (seems more like a novel would be necessary to really make -that- one work). But anyway....

I would totally drabble anything remotely possible (for me), for the first 10 people who ask me (that I can handle). Generally, I'd say this is limited to HP pairings, but I suppose you never know. You could try your luck, but I'm warning you I'd probably suck eggs at anything else.

If you're asking for H/D, you'll have to provide some sort of keyword or theme; don't feel required to ask for pairing stuff, though-- if you want gen, give me 2 or more characters or a situation or something.

[Poll #351670]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

yourpoison.livejournal.com

Hi! Um. You can't fill out the poll...? That's odd..... But anyway. Righty-o, then.
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He flew like it was the last time, because it was.

He'd pulled on his Quidditch robes with stiff fingers just half an hour ago, the movements familiar and soothing and somehow painful. The Gryffindor colors billowed behind him as he walked, and for once he could feel the weight of the fabric.

In the air, they would unfurl; depending on the wind, they might even fly, making a dull sound like distant wing-beats.

Harry wanted to win; he needed to win. The Snitch was right there, glittering madly as it fluttered and zinged ahead by mere inches.

The wind screamed in his ears; everything had narrowed down to this one moment. He could barely feel the broomstick between his legs as he leaned forward further and further, stretching out his arm as far as it would go.

He heard the movement before he saw it out of the corner of his eye.

Malfoy swooped around from behind a cloud and banged against him, rattling Harry's broom, a hand rushing in from nowhere. He wasn't looking, but he saw Malfoy's flushed, intent look from beneath his goggles, all that green cloth twisting around him. Malfoy looked like some pale goblin, which meant Harry had to win. Harry was going to win.

The sun was in Harry's eyes again, though the goggles had always reflected weirdly. There was too much sunlight everywhere; a streak of windblown silver and green clashed with the brilliant gold almost in his reach.

He was gasping for breath for some reason; it had to be the insane altitude. His cheeks stung and the tip of his nose burned madly, though the tips of his fingers were strangely cold as he reached and reached. The Snitch was just out of reach, and the moment seemed to stretch out forever. Malfoy was reaching right along with him, his foot grinding against his knee ineffectually, and Harry knew he was looking. He -knew-.

He could barely breathe; there was really not enough air up here.

Malfoy was fast, but Harry was faster; he'd always been faster.

Just a little further.

Malfoy would usually be full of taunts and jibes by now. Malfoy should be pulling some dirty trick by now. Malfoy should be trying to knock him to the ground by now, and-- he was only reaching alongside him, and--

Harry bit down on his tongue, hissing. Just a little-- just a few-- more-- seconds-- left-- the Snitch was so close-- so close-- they were so-- yes!--

Their hands closed around the frantically beating wings, and the wind calmed. (He was still panting.)

The clouds beneath them still shone with trapped light. (His cheeks still burned.)

A corner of Malfoy's snake-green robes lay on Harry's thigh. (Malfoy was looking-- he was looking-- he wasn't moving.)

He had his eyes closed, but he didn't let go his hand, which could barely feel the Snitch trapped against it, and all he knew was that Malfoy's hand was impossibly warm.