Freckles || Drarry

ix

Dear Merlin Harry's freckles. We've been playing quite a bit of Quidditch recently, and Hufflepuff practices are becoming longer and longer. All that time in the sun... Harry's growing a bit more tan, and his freckles are multiplying and darkening. He'll come in from the Quidditch pitch and he'll have a flushed face, and darker freckles, tanned skin and his finger hair is clinging to his forehead with sweat. The curls seem that much brighter because of the sun and -

ohsweetSalazarhecaughtmestaring.

"Hey Dray! I'm gonna shower, but once I'm done can we go to the owlery? I want to send a letter to Sirius." His smile is blinding...
"Of course. See you in a bit." I fall deeper into the armchair once he leaves. At this point he learnt if I'm not in his common room I'm in the library. We spent months sneaking me into the common room under his invisibility cloak and into his form so we could chat and play games. Eventually Cedric told Harry he knew what we were doing and it would be so much easier for both of us if we just sat in the common room like normal people. Cedric finds me in the Great Hall (if Harry hasn't already) to tell me the password. I'm like an honorary Hufflepuff, without their tendencies.

Okay, so maybe I'm a bit of a Hufflepuff! I know it's really Hufflepuff to fish about the way the sun bounces off of Harry's hair and I know it's pretty Hufflepuff of me to sit and watch him doing his homework but I can't help it! He had this little smile every time he answers a question, and every time he finishes one assignment he'll lean over to make sure I'm doing okay. He's just... Great to watch.

About twenty five minutes later Harry walked through the doors again and I only managed to get there inches of my History of Magic essay done. Too many thoughts of a slightly sweaty, flushed Harry.

"Let's go then." I gave him a small smile and packed away my stuff, except my DADA book. We left walking next to eachother, so close our shoulders would brush every few steps. It wasn't uncommon of us to hold hands walking down the hall (because two guys can hold hands and have it be platonic damn it), but Harry had parchment, ink and quills in his hands, and I was still holding my book, so I had to settle for that irregular brushing of shoulders.

When we got to the Owlery I settled in a chair and read whilst Harry wrote a quick letter. When he was done he handed it to his owl, Hedwig. She flew off into the sky and we watched until she wasn't nothing but a spec on the horizon.

A soft hissing smudged from Harry's direction, and I thought he was talking to himself in Parseltongue again, but when he writhed uncomfortably and a familiar snake emerged from his short sleeve I realised the cause.

"Hey Anguis. I haven't seen you for a few days, where've you been?" I put my hand out so she could slither up it. She ended up curling around my neck.
"You do remember she doesn't have a clue what you're saying right?" I couldn't withhold an eyeroll.I
"Yes, but all you've taught me to say in Parseltongue are swear words, and I don't think she'd appreciate that. Translate for me. You may be smart, but you may as well be a Gryffindor with your common sense."

He threw a haughty nose up, feigning hurt.
"How dare you associate me with those reckless scum!"
"Don't let Ron hear you say that. He'll explode."
"He already looks like a firecracker." He snorted. Not like, the loud ugly snort. The quiet giggly snort (the adorable one he makes when he laughs to hard).

"That's a bit too true actually." We fell into a nice silence as we walked back in the direction of the Hufflepuff dungeon. The Hufflepuff dungeon is a lot more friendly than the Slytherin dungeon. It's lighter, and feels more homely. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to our fellow snakes, Slytherins are so sweet and caring, but Hufflepuff has that warm feeling. It's just a nicer atmosphere. Also it doesn't look like it was designed by a Victorian emo, so that helps.

"Pumpkin pasties." The portrait swung open and we made our way through, people sending smiles and waves our way as we settled on Harry's favourite sofa. Well, Harry did, I sat on the arm, with my body draped around the back of it so I could see what Harry was doing.

He keeps a sketchbook on the small table in front of the chair. People leave little muggle post-it notes with their opinions and advice for Harry. He likes having the responses of his fellow housemates. They were always really nice about it though.

'I love this, but maybe try to blur the background a bit, as it draws attention away from the person'
'This is my favourite piece, I like the way you show the lights'
'This reminds me so much of my family Christmas'

Just sweet little inputs. They always make him smile. He keeps them all. He puts a creaseproof charm on them and keeps them in a box, along with a note of what drawing it's about.

He sketches random lines for a little while, and I just enjoy watching him, feeling the same peace he does. Him drawing is calming for both of us. The gentle murmur of conversation in the room, and the noise of his pencil gently scratching against the page. It's so soothing.

After a short while form starts to fill the page and it becomes increasingly obvious as to what it is. It's two boys, hands intertwined, laying in a field. It's only structure lines, but that much is obvious. My eyes dart between the movement Harry's ginger hair every time he tilts his head, and the page where more and more details find their way on to the page. Small blades of grass and daisies surround the figures that still have no definition. When he moves on to them, I realize the one on the left is Harry. The light grey curls, the freckles, the bright eyes, and just as bright smile. It's Harry. When he finishes the second boy, I realise it's me. Well... It's me when I have my hair down. He always tells me it looks softer, and that I look more welcoming, when I keep it down. If he ever draws me, I have my hair down.

"That's so good Haz. They look just like us!" I can't see his eyes, but I can practically feel him rolling them.
"That was the idea." I gently push the back of his head. With a melodic laugh he moves to the side and yanks me down into him. Once he has my back on his lap he relentlessly tickles me until tears roll down my face. I'm the most ticklish person ever. Harry knows this and likes to use it against me any chance he gets.

"Revenge!"
"For what I didn't do anything!"
"You... Were stupid. That's reason enough." I give him a playful glare.
"So I should tickle you all the time then?"
"Wow okay! Sass queen. Make way for his royal sassness. Who's Weasly? I only know Malfoy Is Our King." I give him another playful shove.
"Piss off, you git."