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birdsofshoreTitle: Draco's Terribly Straight First Date
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
birdsofshore
Pairing(s): It's complicated
Rating: PG? Sorry...
Word count: ~1900
Warnings: Closeted!Draco, dating women!Draco, ridiculousness, pining for Harry, no smut, the frightening potential for epilogue compliance
A/N: For dearest lovelywho_la_hoop, on your birthday. ♥ ♥ This bit of nonsense was inspired by a post you made in your journal which stated: “JKR, I wanted the new Draco stuff released on Pottermore today! *whines* Are we placing bets on what it's going to be, flist? I reckon it'll be about Draco's first date with Astoria, because he's STRAIGHT, you hear? STRAIGHT! :D”
I felt JKR had missed a trick here. So I give you Draco and Astoria's first date, as NOT written by JKR. Many thanks tolumosed_quill for giving this a onceover ♥ (which turned into a twiceover).
“It's Astoria. And I'm over here.”
“Astoria, of course. Yes, sorry, I was just distracted by the rather fine Rotherham Swoop that the other team's Seeker just made. ”
“You mean Harry Potter?”
“Er? No, I don't think so... er, is it Potter? I didn't realise.”
“Your attention's been riveted on him ever since we got here. I would have thought you would have recognised him, seeing as you were in the same year at Hogwarts.”
“Was I? Potter, you say? Harry Potter? Well, it rings a bell, certainly... Anyway, back to the fascinating topic of your parents' lovely home in France.”
“Which one?”
“There's more than one? Even better! I mean... how delightful. For them. Ah, here's the refreshments witch. What can I get you?”
“I'll have a small butterbeer, thank you.”
“My pleasure. Hoy, you in the purple cloak! Two butterbeers. Keep the change.”
“I think something just fell out of your wallet, Draco.”
“Did it?”
“Yes, here you are. Oh. It appears to be a photograph. Of Harry Potter.”
“What? No it isn't.”
“Yes, it is. It looks as if it's been torn out of Witch Weekly. And carried around for a rather long time – look, it's all worn.”
“I can assure you that it has nothing to do with me.”
“I distinctly saw it fall from your—”
“Keep your voice down, for heaven's sake! Ah, well, I may remember tucking it in there, now you mention it. It was... a reminder for me when I was going to have my hair cut.”
“A reminder?”
“Yes. A reminder of what not to have done. Tsk, look at that, Phillips has let the Quaffle in again!”
“So, this is your favourite team?”
“Eh? Oh, yes, yes. The, er... where has that programme got to.... The Wigtown Wanderers, that's right! Marvellous team. Marvellous.”
“You don't rate the Wasps, then? Harry Potter's team?”
“Who? No. No, no. No, no, no, no, no. I don't think I've ever seen them play before in my life, in fact.”
“That's funny, because Daphne's quite a fan, and she said she's seen you at plenty of their games. Said she thought you had a season ticket.”
“Me? Ha ha, no! Must be... somebody else. Someone who looks... uncannily like me. Well. It is a treat to be here with you, Astrolabe.”
“Astoria.”
“Ho, ho, dear me, yes. And have I mentioned how absolutely charming you look today?”
“Yes. Several times. But you're always staring at Potter's arse when you say it.”
“I beg your pardon? Oh! A stunning Wronski Feint there. So, Potter's quite a tolerable flyer, hmm? Well, that is a surprise. I thought, being the completely useless tosser that he was at school, that— Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Why ever should there be?”
“Well, you tell me? I thought this was going quite well, as first dates go, but I distinctly thought I heard you snorting—”
“Have you been on a lot of first dates? Just wondering.”
“Well, a fair few, yes. I don't wish to boast, but I do enjoy my share of attention from the ladies.”
“It's not just your parents setting you up with all their friends' daughters, then?”
“What? Good lord, no. I'm awfully keen. On ladies, that is. Merlin, yes. Can't keep away from them.”
“I see. So, you're not thinking of settling down?”
“Damn it, I think I've given you the wrong impression. No, what I mean is, I absolutely do want to settle down. Mmm, yes. Marriage, children, nice big mansion in France, carrying on the family name, not getting disinherited, the whole thing. I'm a one-witch kind of fellow, Asteroid.”
“My name is Astoria.”
“Wasn't that what I said?”
“No, but don't trouble yourself about it. Tell me, what are you looking for, exactly, in this person that you're hoping to settle down with?”
“Oh, the– all the, you know, the relevant female parts. Definitely. That's what I like. No doubt about it. I spend a lot of time thinking about, you know. That.”
“I was really wondering if there was something more specific.”
“God, no, anyone will do. I mean– well, you've thrown me now. Er, someone with traditional values. That's very important to my parents. I mean, to me. What else? Hmm. Not too... clingy. I'd like a wife who... wasn't around a lot. I mean, if she had her own hobbies and interests, you know. Independent sort. Oh, look, they're selling raffle tickets, now. I wonder what the prize is?”
“I believe they said it was a Firebolt that had been ridden by Harry Potter.”
“Well, honestly! What kind of a prize is that? I suppose they expect us to be all impressed, just because Potter has touched it. They think I'm going to want to be mooning over an old thing like that, spend every evening polishing it lovingly, simply because the wood has been worn smooth from Potter's sweaty thighs rubbing across it – my god, they think we're idiots. I'll get you a couple of tickets of course, because ladies love that sort of thing. Over here! Yes, two dozen will do. No, of course they're not for me, what do you take me for? Some sort of broomstick deviant? They're for the lady. There you are, my dear. I'll look after them for you. In case you lose them. I'll just tuck them away safely in my robes. Perfect. Oh, my god.”
“What is it now?”
“Potter – he's injured. Oh, hell.”
“I didn't see. What happened?”
“He took a turn too fast – hit the stands and came off his broom. Merlin. Get help, you absolute cretins! Salazar, I think he's bleeding. Hurry!”
“Sit down! Look, the Mediwitch is coming. Don't get so worked up.”
“Oh god, oh god. I hope he's all right, oh, please. I mean. Um. I hope they don't have to stop the game. What a bore that would be.”
“You're shaking!”
“No. That's just. A thing I do. When– I see blood. It's nothing. Just one of those things. Loads of wizards are the same. Really manly wizards who are straight and like women a lot. Oh, thank the heavens, he's sitting up now.”
“He seems to be fine.”
“Well, thank goodness for that! That was quite enough time wasted by that bloody attention-seeker!”
“Oh, you were right about the blood... he's changing into a clean shirt.”
“So he is. I— That is— Nnnnngh.”
“Oh my god. Draco. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Hnnngggg.”
“Try to take deep breaths. Have some butterbeer.”
“I'm fine. It was– the blood. Yes. Just, the blood. Smeared. All over his toned, Seeker's body...”
“Perhaps don't talk for a while. Until you feel quite yourself again.”
“I'm quite all right, I assure you. You know, I don't feel that this has gone quite as well as I intended, Listeria, my dear. I hope you won't hold it against me. I'm honestly such an eligible wizard, I can't imagine why someone hasn't snapped me up yet. To be frank, I'd marry me in an instant. I don't really know why I find courting such a tricky business.”
“Don't let it worry you. I quite understand.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yes. I think I understand you perfectly. Marriage. Carrying on the family name. Not getting disinherited. Carrying around pictures of Harry Potter. All of that.”
“Hold on a minute― I think you've somehow got the wrong end of the—”
“Oh, Draco, shush a moment. I've just seen someone I'd like you to meet. Gwendoline! Gwen, darling! Ah, I'm so glad you could make it. Draco, this is Gwendoline Marchpane. She's a – well. A very dear friend of mine.”
“How do you do?”
“Gwen and I have... plans as soon as the game is over – Gwen! That tickles, you naughty thing. Go on without me, Gwen, and I'll meet you there. But, Draco, I'm sure you'll find something to occupy yourself with, when the game has finished. Perhaps one of these magazines that they're bringing round for sale? What does the headline say? Harry Potter's Secrets Laid Bare. With 101 full colour photos. Yes, I'm sure that will while away the evening most pleasantly for you.”
“Astoria. I― I suppose this means we won't be seeing each other again?”
“Well, I don't know about that. I think you and I could be quite well-suited for a mutually beneficial agreement. How about you tell your parents we're serious about one another? Then they might leave you alone for a bit.”
“I― I'm sorry?”
“You know, it might not be the worst idea in the world if we actually got married. Gwen could be a bridesmaid, and I promise I'd be awfully independent. I don't mind whose photo you keep in your wallet, either. But perhaps that's a bit drastic. We could just buy one another a little time. While we work on what we really want.”
“What we want? I told you what I want—”
“Yes, yes, someone with the relevant female parts. Well, if you ever change your mind about that, I hear Potter drinks in the Dumbledore Arms after every match, that he's currently single, and that he's equally happy with the relevant male parts.”
“I―I― what?”
“Mmm. And it's widely known he's got a penchant for blonds. Dear me, I believe the game's finished while we were chatting. Good old Potter caught the Snitch after all. My, my, look at his face. All... shining. Full of hope and possibilities.”
“Golly. Well. The Dumbledore Arms? It just happens to be on my way home. I'm suddenly rather thirsty. It might make a change. I have heard it is a... a lively sort of place.”
“They have music and dancing from about 9. Apparently Potter's quite the mover, and he likes to— Draco, dear. Do remember to breathe. You will be OK, won't you?”
“Yes, fine. I'm fine. I just need to― Possibly I should go and change first. I feel a little warm all of a sudden, dressed like this.”
“I would think so. Not that you don't look smashing in formal robes. But I hear leather trousers are more to Potter's taste. You could make it to the shops before they close, if you hurry.”
“I― I may own such a thing already. Possibly. At the back of my wardrobe in a bag marked, Mother, please mind your own business.”
“Perfect. Well, good luck, Draco. And while you're working things out, I'm happy to provide, well, camouflage. If you need it.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much. You know, I think this might be turning out to be the best first date I've ever had.”
Author:
birdsofshorePairing(s): It's complicated
Rating: PG? Sorry...
Word count: ~1900
Warnings: Closeted!Draco, dating women!Draco, ridiculousness, pining for Harry, no smut, the frightening potential for epilogue compliance
A/N: For dearest lovely
who_la_hoop, on your birthday. ♥ ♥ This bit of nonsense was inspired by a post you made in your journal which stated: “JKR, I wanted the new Draco stuff released on Pottermore today! *whines* Are we placing bets on what it's going to be, flist? I reckon it'll be about Draco's first date with Astoria, because he's STRAIGHT, you hear? STRAIGHT! :D”I felt JKR had missed a trick here. So I give you Draco and Astoria's first date, as NOT written by JKR. Many thanks to
lumosed_quill for giving this a onceover ♥ (which turned into a twiceover).***
“Well, thank you again for coming. You're looking quite, er, lovely, Wisteria.”“It's Astoria. And I'm over here.”
“Astoria, of course. Yes, sorry, I was just distracted by the rather fine Rotherham Swoop that the other team's Seeker just made. ”
“You mean Harry Potter?”
“Er? No, I don't think so... er, is it Potter? I didn't realise.”
“Your attention's been riveted on him ever since we got here. I would have thought you would have recognised him, seeing as you were in the same year at Hogwarts.”
“Was I? Potter, you say? Harry Potter? Well, it rings a bell, certainly... Anyway, back to the fascinating topic of your parents' lovely home in France.”
“Which one?”
“There's more than one? Even better! I mean... how delightful. For them. Ah, here's the refreshments witch. What can I get you?”
“I'll have a small butterbeer, thank you.”
“My pleasure. Hoy, you in the purple cloak! Two butterbeers. Keep the change.”
“I think something just fell out of your wallet, Draco.”
“Did it?”
“Yes, here you are. Oh. It appears to be a photograph. Of Harry Potter.”
“What? No it isn't.”
“Yes, it is. It looks as if it's been torn out of Witch Weekly. And carried around for a rather long time – look, it's all worn.”
“I can assure you that it has nothing to do with me.”
“I distinctly saw it fall from your—”
“Keep your voice down, for heaven's sake! Ah, well, I may remember tucking it in there, now you mention it. It was... a reminder for me when I was going to have my hair cut.”
“A reminder?”
“Yes. A reminder of what not to have done. Tsk, look at that, Phillips has let the Quaffle in again!”
“So, this is your favourite team?”
“Eh? Oh, yes, yes. The, er... where has that programme got to.... The Wigtown Wanderers, that's right! Marvellous team. Marvellous.”
“You don't rate the Wasps, then? Harry Potter's team?”
“Who? No. No, no. No, no, no, no, no. I don't think I've ever seen them play before in my life, in fact.”
“That's funny, because Daphne's quite a fan, and she said she's seen you at plenty of their games. Said she thought you had a season ticket.”
“Me? Ha ha, no! Must be... somebody else. Someone who looks... uncannily like me. Well. It is a treat to be here with you, Astrolabe.”
“Astoria.”
“Ho, ho, dear me, yes. And have I mentioned how absolutely charming you look today?”
“Yes. Several times. But you're always staring at Potter's arse when you say it.”
“I beg your pardon? Oh! A stunning Wronski Feint there. So, Potter's quite a tolerable flyer, hmm? Well, that is a surprise. I thought, being the completely useless tosser that he was at school, that— Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Why ever should there be?”
“Well, you tell me? I thought this was going quite well, as first dates go, but I distinctly thought I heard you snorting—”
“Have you been on a lot of first dates? Just wondering.”
“Well, a fair few, yes. I don't wish to boast, but I do enjoy my share of attention from the ladies.”
“It's not just your parents setting you up with all their friends' daughters, then?”
“What? Good lord, no. I'm awfully keen. On ladies, that is. Merlin, yes. Can't keep away from them.”
“I see. So, you're not thinking of settling down?”
“Damn it, I think I've given you the wrong impression. No, what I mean is, I absolutely do want to settle down. Mmm, yes. Marriage, children, nice big mansion in France, carrying on the family name, not getting disinherited, the whole thing. I'm a one-witch kind of fellow, Asteroid.”
“My name is Astoria.”
“Wasn't that what I said?”
“No, but don't trouble yourself about it. Tell me, what are you looking for, exactly, in this person that you're hoping to settle down with?”
“Oh, the– all the, you know, the relevant female parts. Definitely. That's what I like. No doubt about it. I spend a lot of time thinking about, you know. That.”
“I was really wondering if there was something more specific.”
“God, no, anyone will do. I mean– well, you've thrown me now. Er, someone with traditional values. That's very important to my parents. I mean, to me. What else? Hmm. Not too... clingy. I'd like a wife who... wasn't around a lot. I mean, if she had her own hobbies and interests, you know. Independent sort. Oh, look, they're selling raffle tickets, now. I wonder what the prize is?”
“I believe they said it was a Firebolt that had been ridden by Harry Potter.”
“Well, honestly! What kind of a prize is that? I suppose they expect us to be all impressed, just because Potter has touched it. They think I'm going to want to be mooning over an old thing like that, spend every evening polishing it lovingly, simply because the wood has been worn smooth from Potter's sweaty thighs rubbing across it – my god, they think we're idiots. I'll get you a couple of tickets of course, because ladies love that sort of thing. Over here! Yes, two dozen will do. No, of course they're not for me, what do you take me for? Some sort of broomstick deviant? They're for the lady. There you are, my dear. I'll look after them for you. In case you lose them. I'll just tuck them away safely in my robes. Perfect. Oh, my god.”
“What is it now?”
“Potter – he's injured. Oh, hell.”
“I didn't see. What happened?”
“He took a turn too fast – hit the stands and came off his broom. Merlin. Get help, you absolute cretins! Salazar, I think he's bleeding. Hurry!”
“Sit down! Look, the Mediwitch is coming. Don't get so worked up.”
“Oh god, oh god. I hope he's all right, oh, please. I mean. Um. I hope they don't have to stop the game. What a bore that would be.”
“You're shaking!”
“No. That's just. A thing I do. When– I see blood. It's nothing. Just one of those things. Loads of wizards are the same. Really manly wizards who are straight and like women a lot. Oh, thank the heavens, he's sitting up now.”
“He seems to be fine.”
“Well, thank goodness for that! That was quite enough time wasted by that bloody attention-seeker!”
“Oh, you were right about the blood... he's changing into a clean shirt.”
“So he is. I— That is— Nnnnngh.”
“Oh my god. Draco. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Hnnngggg.”
“Try to take deep breaths. Have some butterbeer.”
“I'm fine. It was– the blood. Yes. Just, the blood. Smeared. All over his toned, Seeker's body...”
“Perhaps don't talk for a while. Until you feel quite yourself again.”
“I'm quite all right, I assure you. You know, I don't feel that this has gone quite as well as I intended, Listeria, my dear. I hope you won't hold it against me. I'm honestly such an eligible wizard, I can't imagine why someone hasn't snapped me up yet. To be frank, I'd marry me in an instant. I don't really know why I find courting such a tricky business.”
“Don't let it worry you. I quite understand.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yes. I think I understand you perfectly. Marriage. Carrying on the family name. Not getting disinherited. Carrying around pictures of Harry Potter. All of that.”
“Hold on a minute― I think you've somehow got the wrong end of the—”
“Oh, Draco, shush a moment. I've just seen someone I'd like you to meet. Gwendoline! Gwen, darling! Ah, I'm so glad you could make it. Draco, this is Gwendoline Marchpane. She's a – well. A very dear friend of mine.”
“How do you do?”
“Gwen and I have... plans as soon as the game is over – Gwen! That tickles, you naughty thing. Go on without me, Gwen, and I'll meet you there. But, Draco, I'm sure you'll find something to occupy yourself with, when the game has finished. Perhaps one of these magazines that they're bringing round for sale? What does the headline say? Harry Potter's Secrets Laid Bare. With 101 full colour photos. Yes, I'm sure that will while away the evening most pleasantly for you.”
“Astoria. I― I suppose this means we won't be seeing each other again?”
“Well, I don't know about that. I think you and I could be quite well-suited for a mutually beneficial agreement. How about you tell your parents we're serious about one another? Then they might leave you alone for a bit.”
“I― I'm sorry?”
“You know, it might not be the worst idea in the world if we actually got married. Gwen could be a bridesmaid, and I promise I'd be awfully independent. I don't mind whose photo you keep in your wallet, either. But perhaps that's a bit drastic. We could just buy one another a little time. While we work on what we really want.”
“What we want? I told you what I want—”
“Yes, yes, someone with the relevant female parts. Well, if you ever change your mind about that, I hear Potter drinks in the Dumbledore Arms after every match, that he's currently single, and that he's equally happy with the relevant male parts.”
“I―I― what?”
“Mmm. And it's widely known he's got a penchant for blonds. Dear me, I believe the game's finished while we were chatting. Good old Potter caught the Snitch after all. My, my, look at his face. All... shining. Full of hope and possibilities.”
“Golly. Well. The Dumbledore Arms? It just happens to be on my way home. I'm suddenly rather thirsty. It might make a change. I have heard it is a... a lively sort of place.”
“They have music and dancing from about 9. Apparently Potter's quite the mover, and he likes to— Draco, dear. Do remember to breathe. You will be OK, won't you?”
“Yes, fine. I'm fine. I just need to― Possibly I should go and change first. I feel a little warm all of a sudden, dressed like this.”
“I would think so. Not that you don't look smashing in formal robes. But I hear leather trousers are more to Potter's taste. You could make it to the shops before they close, if you hurry.”
“I― I may own such a thing already. Possibly. At the back of my wardrobe in a bag marked, Mother, please mind your own business.”
“Perfect. Well, good luck, Draco. And while you're working things out, I'm happy to provide, well, camouflage. If you need it.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much. You know, I think this might be turning out to be the best first date I've ever had.”
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Date: 2015-02-22 12:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-22 01:34 pm (UTC)