At the gym, part 12
Jul. 22nd, 2017 10:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Title: At the gym, 12
Author:
twisted_miracle
Team: death eaters
Word count: 100x3
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: eat
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this!
Part one: http://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/1217516.html
Part 11: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/130562.html#cutid1
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The bar (also a small restaurant), was easy to find despite zero signage. Something about either the architecture or the magic gave Draco confidence he knew where to go; and, arriving, he felt – not triumph – but quiet satisfaction. Depending on the service (and the food), he would almost certainly take clients here.
The bar itself was well appointed. Not richly, like Draco’s Club, but everything appeared to be good quality, well-made, attractive and welcoming.
“I get something you to drink, sir?” asked the house-elf that appeared at his elbow.
“Yes,” Draco said. “And I’d also like to see a menu.”
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The comfortable booth to which the house-elf showed him boasted a tall, curved seat of dark brown leather. The tabletop was a heavy slab of solid wood, with visible grain that made pleasing patterns. The menu was not long, but neither was it burdened with options Draco found unappealing.
Sipping 25-year-old Scotch, Draco was dithering between roast beef and salmon when he realized another man had entered the room, and was approaching Draco’s table.
Surreptitiously, Draco cast a spell his father had taught him. Praevidium simultaneously shielded him (invisibly, of course), and allowed him a view of the approaching man.
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“Potter.” Draco didn’t bother to look up. He made sure his put-upon sigh was barely audible. “Did Chris mention this place in one of her Owls? I assume you did not do me the favour of bringing your portfolio along.”
Potter slid gracefully into the curved booth. A menu appeared in his hand. He smiled serenely. “Chris did mention it,” he said, opening the menu. “But I didn’t bring my portfolio.” He put the menu down and looked up, pulling Draco’s attention to his handsome face. “I suppose we will just have to go fetch it from mine. After dinner.”
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Part 13: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/134839.html#cutid1
Author:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Team: death eaters
Word count: 100x3
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: eat
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this!
Part one: http://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/1217516.html
Part 11: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/130562.html#cutid1
The bar (also a small restaurant), was easy to find despite zero signage. Something about either the architecture or the magic gave Draco confidence he knew where to go; and, arriving, he felt – not triumph – but quiet satisfaction. Depending on the service (and the food), he would almost certainly take clients here.
The bar itself was well appointed. Not richly, like Draco’s Club, but everything appeared to be good quality, well-made, attractive and welcoming.
“I get something you to drink, sir?” asked the house-elf that appeared at his elbow.
“Yes,” Draco said. “And I’d also like to see a menu.”
The comfortable booth to which the house-elf showed him boasted a tall, curved seat of dark brown leather. The tabletop was a heavy slab of solid wood, with visible grain that made pleasing patterns. The menu was not long, but neither was it burdened with options Draco found unappealing.
Sipping 25-year-old Scotch, Draco was dithering between roast beef and salmon when he realized another man had entered the room, and was approaching Draco’s table.
Surreptitiously, Draco cast a spell his father had taught him. Praevidium simultaneously shielded him (invisibly, of course), and allowed him a view of the approaching man.
“Potter.” Draco didn’t bother to look up. He made sure his put-upon sigh was barely audible. “Did Chris mention this place in one of her Owls? I assume you did not do me the favour of bringing your portfolio along.”
Potter slid gracefully into the curved booth. A menu appeared in his hand. He smiled serenely. “Chris did mention it,” he said, opening the menu. “But I didn’t bring my portfolio.” He put the menu down and looked up, pulling Draco’s attention to his handsome face. “I suppose we will just have to go fetch it from mine. After dinner.”
Part 13: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/134839.html#cutid1