Harry Potter, Wardsmith. Part 60
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dracoharry100Title: Harry Potter, Wardsmith. Part 60
Author: twisted_miracle
Team: Death Eaters
Word count: 100x2
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Challenge: shame
Rating for this series: Rated NC-17
Rating for this post: Rated R
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!
Author's note: I've included my last update, because wow, it's been a while!
Also! Comments are love!
Summary: Draco accompanies his mother to Rosscot's interrogation.
Part 1: http://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/1154283.html
Part 59: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/266136.html#cutid1
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco and his Mother entered the Auror department wearing their best cool façades.
“Mrs Malfoy,” Granger said. “Draco. So glad you could spare the time. Please, right this way.”
Rosscot was down one hall, past three doors and behind a shimmering wall of spellwork. “Is that you, Narcissa?” he called at their footsteps. Mother tensed. Granger shook her head, as though either Malfoy would have been foolish enough to respond verbally.
Some Auror did it instead. “Can’t tell you if she’s here, Rosscott, but if she is, she’ll be listening to every word you say. So, Matthew, watcha gonna say?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco couldn’t see anything other than Mother, white walls, uncomfortable wooden chairs, and swirling pearlescent spells, hiding them from the rest of the room.
But he heard everything.
Granger’s increasingly pointed questions.
Rosscot’s increasingly fevered answers.
The defense’s ineffective, bleating entreaties.
He heard his mother forcefully regulate her breathing as the man who’d longed for years to physically and sexually assault her, blathered on about what a shame it was that he’d been unable to do so. And how much he “loved” her.
They listened as Rosscot incriminated himself so thoroughly, that both he and Mother were fighting back vomit.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
To be Continued: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/270112.html#cutid1
Author: twisted_miracle
Team: Death Eaters
Word count: 100x2
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Challenge: shame
Rating for this series: Rated NC-17
Rating for this post: Rated R
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!
Author's note: I've included my last update, because wow, it's been a while!
Also! Comments are love!
Summary: Draco accompanies his mother to Rosscot's interrogation.
Part 1: http://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/1154283.html
Part 59: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/266136.html#cutid1
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco and his Mother entered the Auror department wearing their best cool façades.
“Mrs Malfoy,” Granger said. “Draco. So glad you could spare the time. Please, right this way.”
Rosscot was down one hall, past three doors and behind a shimmering wall of spellwork. “Is that you, Narcissa?” he called at their footsteps. Mother tensed. Granger shook her head, as though either Malfoy would have been foolish enough to respond verbally.
Some Auror did it instead. “Can’t tell you if she’s here, Rosscott, but if she is, she’ll be listening to every word you say. So, Matthew, watcha gonna say?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco couldn’t see anything other than Mother, white walls, uncomfortable wooden chairs, and swirling pearlescent spells, hiding them from the rest of the room.
But he heard everything.
Granger’s increasingly pointed questions.
Rosscot’s increasingly fevered answers.
The defense’s ineffective, bleating entreaties.
He heard his mother forcefully regulate her breathing as the man who’d longed for years to physically and sexually assault her, blathered on about what a shame it was that he’d been unable to do so. And how much he “loved” her.
They listened as Rosscot incriminated himself so thoroughly, that both he and Mother were fighting back vomit.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
To be Continued: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/270112.html#cutid1
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Date: 2019-02-10 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-02-10 10:58 pm (UTC)