Title: Childish
Author: Lyrical Nights ()
Furniture: toy box
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: I wanted this to be a fluffy sex fic. It disagreed.
Now that I am a man, I have put away childish things.
�Honestly, didn�t you have any normal toys as a child?� Harry asked, wrinkling his nose at the scene before him.
Draco looked up from his current position, three-quarters into a large black toy box, heavily decorated with what looked to be mystic runes, though they might just have been the enthusiastic scribblings of a succession of small blond Malfoy-children.
�What�s the matter with my toys, Potter?� he replied offhandedly, glancing at the playthings scattered from the chest, which ran the gamut from a merely grotesque-looking set of tin soldier goblins complete with realistic war wounds, to what appeared to be a miniature guillotine sized perfectly for small household pets.
�Well, they�re a bit gruesome, really,� Harry sniffed, turning his back on Draco to inspect a large glass terrarium which housed a grumpy python. He commenced to hissing quietly with it, either missing or ignoring Draco�s jealous looks. �Shall we take this fellow, then? �
�If you want,� Draco said, �but I won�t be feeding him, the ungrateful bastard. He always bit me, and once he got free and tried to strangle me in my sleep.�
�I�m sure you quite deserved it,� Harry replied, taking the snake from its habitat and winding it casually about his waist. �Are we done here?�
Draco looked about once more, and plucked a particularly ragged looking stuffed manticore from the top of the box. He shoved it into a side pocket of his worn but immaculately pressed robes and rose gracefully to his feet, gathering several previously held objects from the mantel. �Yes, I think that�ll do well enough. This was the last room anyway.�
The two young men left the playroom without a backward glance. Striding down the long main hallway of Malfoy Manor, they resembled nothing so much as a flash of lightening, complete with its afterimage, a pair in height, weight, and bearing, but otherwise completely opposite. Both walked with the confidence born of power and skill, but with the wary movements of those used to having to jump when motion is felt rather than seen.
Harry reached the huge ornamental front door a fraction of second before Draco, but held his hand back to allow the latter to push it open. They treaded each of the twenty-three steps to the manicured front lawn in silence and retreated to the end of the herringbone pathway before turning around.
�Was there anything else you wanted, anything at all?� Harry asked softly, though no sign of pity or even compassion leaked into his voice.
Draco looked down at the objects in his hands, his confident demeanor crumpling for an instant of bemusement before reasserting itself. Besides the doll in his pocket, he held an ancient looking pocketwatch attached to a golden chain, a silver mirror with a clouded grey surface that roiled and shifted periodically, a small decanter that shone like sunlight purified, and one of Narcissa�s delicate kid gloves with pearl buttons down the side.
�No, that�s it,� he said. �Burn it to the ground.�
He turned away as Harry�s murmured �Incendio� took effect. When Harry fell into step beside him again, he didn�t look up, down, or anywhere but straight ahead.