Disclaimer: Characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling and are used without permission but with no intent to defraud.
Author's Notes: Mostly unbeta'd, so any mistakes are very definitely my own.
A few more mixed Harry Potter Universe drabbles and ficlets. Warnings: contain Slash. So if you do not like slash - or don't know what it is - then DO NOT READ. Thanks :o)
Drabbles and Ficlets
What Harry Thinks of Vampires (Harry/Draco slash)
Harry looked up at his boyfriend's pale face and frowned. "What about them?" Paperwork covered the table before him.
Draco's elegant hand settled on his shoulder, his thumb caressing the side of Harry's throat. "Wondered what you thought."
"Draco, I'm busy," Harry said, trying to ignore the distracting touch, looking down. He swallowed as soft hair tickled the skin of his neck, Draco's mouth pressing a kiss to the spot his finger had traced.
"Draco…" he warned, but tilted his neck, gasping as sharp teeth nipped his flesh.
"Vampires?" Draco whispered in his ear.
"Big fan," Harry replied.
Bludger (Wood/Flint slash)
Oliver stood in the shadows of the stands, watching.
Flint flew like a devil, hard turns and sharp thrusting feints, dodging the Bludger with ease, and sending it slamming through the hoop with one aggressive swipe. Quaffle with another.
Does he fuck like he flies? Oliver wondered. Would those rough hands pin him against the stands, grip tightly as a tongue thrust into his mouth?
Oliver scratched the back of his neck and looked away. Dinner was imminent, and Flint would soon be finished. He had to go.
On the pitch, Marcus hovered, watching the departing figure with calculating eyes.
A Lie (Voldemort, mention of Harry/Cedric slash) Spoilers for Goblet of Fire.
Cedric tugged at the chains ineffectually.
"Oh, they won't break," Voldemort assured him. "But do keep trying, it's rather entertaining."
Cedric dropped his chained wrists and settled on glaring defiantly.
Voldemort chuckled. "He's grief-stricken, you know; the horror of seeing his beloved murdered before his eyes. The look on his face..."
"He'll know it's a lie," Cedric rasped. "He'll know it wasn't me. He'll come."
"My dear boy, he held your lifeless corpse in his arms, they had to drag him away. I even heard he's refusing to eat."
Cedric's head dropped, not wanting Voldemort see his fear.
Hand-shake (Oliver/Cedric slash)
They shook hands at the start of the game, just like they always did. But this time was different.
This time Diggory held on a fraction longer, sliding his thumb back and forth across Oliver's palm - a gesture that shot straight to Oliver's cock - then let go and stepped back, tilting his head and flashing Oliver a hesitant grin.
Oliver stared, completely thrown, and it was only the piercing sound of Madam Hooch's whistle that forced his eyes away. When he looked back, the Hufflepuff Captain was gone, and the Gryffindors were bellowing for him to take flight.
Team Support (Oliver/Cedric/Harry slash if you want it to be, and featuring Ron) A ficlet.
Harry could see copies of the Daily Prophet everywhere, his own face blinking at him from the cover. He groaned.
"No one'll believe it, mate," Ron said consolingly, patting his arm. Someone let out a wolf whistle and Ron snatched his hand away, sliding fractionally away from Harry along the bench.
"Yeah, I can see that," Harry said dryly. "'Hero in Quidditch Love Triangle'? Where do they get this stuff?"
When Ron didn't answer, Harry looked up, suddenly realising the room had gone suspiciously quiet.
"Budge up, Ron," a soft Scottish voice ordered, and a warm body slid into the space on Harry's right as Ron complied.
"Mornin'," Oliver said, snagging a piece of toast from Harry's plate, and dropping a well-worn Quidditch glove onto the table in front of him. "You left this in my room last night."
"That's not…" Harry began, but was interrupted.
"I wondered where that had got to." Cedric reached over Harry's shoulder and picked up the glove, flicking it off the back of Harry's head as he clambered over the bench to sit on Harry's left. "No-one minds if I sit here, do they?"
There were no objections, only a silent row of shaking heads, and Cedric flashed them all a beatific smile. "Thanks."
"Hey," he said, nudging Harry in the ribs. "Photo doesn't do you justice." Then louder: "Does it, Ol?"
"Nah," Oliver said around a mouthful of toast. "He should have been in his Quidditch gear. Much better picture."
Harry picked up one of the papers and opened it out, disappearing behind it before anyone could see him blush.
Follow (Harry/Snape slash) A ficlet.
Snape stuck his head around the living room door. "A minute?" he said sharply, withdrawing before Harry could question him.
Rubbing his tired eyes, Harry pushed the Ministry paperwork to the side and stood. He stepped out into the hallway, frowning when he realised Snape wasn't there.
"In here," Snape's voice called from the kitchen, and Harry let out an irritated huff. What was he up to?
Snape was waiting, standing in front of the kitchen table, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
"What?" Harry asked, sounding harsher than he intended.
"Happy birthday," Snape said, stepping to one side and revealing a birthday cake decorated with an animated Quidditch pitch; tiny icing figures flying over a flag-waving crowd.
Harry's heart clenched; he thought he'd forgotten. "You got me a cake?"
Snape's eyebrow rose. "I made you a cake," he corrected. "Is it satisfactory?"
His answer came in an armful of Harry, smiling lips pressed against his in a ravishing kiss that had the miniature crowd cheering.
Most satisfactory indeed, Snape decided.