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marguerite_26A very quick little ficlet for my dear ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stellamoon for linking me to these ridiculously sexy NWS!!! photos last night. They were very inspiring. ♥
Author:marguerite_26
Title: Fund Raising
Rating: PG (yes, I am capable of writing something PG)
Pairing(s): Harry/Scorpius
Summary: Harry is suffering from budget problems, and Scorpius has a solution.
Warnings: ADW(48/22)
Word Count: 1300
Thank you tovaysh11 for the beta read. I played with more, and likely added mistakes. Sorry, my dear.
Fund Raising
Harry whipped the glasses off his face and tossed them onto the piles of parchment covering his desk. They fell between two stone-cold, half-drank cups of coffee. He looked again at the sums and figures of his new budget. They looked much better in the hazy blur of his natural vision than the crisp unforgiving digits that the glasses enabled.
He could not run a department on the pittance the Ministry was allotting him this year. Cutting cost meant taking risks, lowering standards, and shrinking the Auror force. Steps like that would cost lives; it was only a matter of time whether it be from faulty equipment, poor training or simply not enough man power. They were not legislating cauldron bottom thickness here. They were saving lives. And yet Kingsley's words rang loud in his head: Make it work.
Fuck.
"Er. Harry?" Ron peaked through the crack in the open door. "Good time?"
Harry blinked up at him and nodded, feeling about for his glasses and knocking over one of the cups in the process. Several of his detailed cost-saving plans fell victim to the spill.
Fuck.
Ron's wand swiftly Vanished the mess and Harry's eyes narrowed instantly. It had to be bad news, or Ron would have just laughed his arse off about Harry's clumsiness rather than try to salvage what would be found of his boss's good humour.
"What's happened?" Harry sighed.
"Nothing," Ron replied too quickly and sat, his hand fidgeting about with a large envelope.
Harry waited, his eyes not leaving the crisp, white envelope. It crinkled as Ron babbled, making Harry's jaw ache from grinding his teeth.
After a short anecdote about the ugliness of Ginny's new beau, Ron darted from his seat as if to leave. But he didn't leave. Instead, he bounced on his heels for a bit. "Oh," he began, as if he'd just remembered the purpose of his visit. "Remember last staff meeting you assigned Scorpius and Michael to think about fund-raising schemes to off-set the Ministry cuts?"
Harry huffed, "You know I did that to shut them up. God, the ideas they were coming up with –"
"Yes, well, um."
Dread balled a knot deep in Harry's belly. "What?"
"They, um, pursued the calendar idea a bit further." Ron rushed through the words as though Harry wouldn't get quite so angry if he didn't get a chance to process them properly. "You see, Michael's Muggle father is a flamefighter –"
"Firefighter."
"Whatever. And they do this sort of thing were they sell calendars with pictures of their staff –"
Harry'd had enough. "Give me the envelope."
"They are very ambitious, those two –" Ron retreated his hand, pulling the envelope out of reach. "– even have the printing costs all calculated. Muggle photos are all the rage now apparently –"
"Give me the envelope, Ron."
"They are just samples. To get a sense of–"
Harry lunged and ripped the envelope out of Ron's hand. With a snap of his wrist, he shook the contents onto his desk.
Fuck.
Harry blinked, focusing on one photo after the other. Harry felt a warm flush spread on his cheeks and neck as he took in the ruffles and skin and plump, plump lips. Was that lip gloss, or had he just never noticed Scorpius's lips before? It was surely gloss. And eyeliner. And there was a heart shaped mole drawn on Scorpius's pale, flawless cheeks. The costume and pose was all so over the top that it should have been comical except the undeniable tingling in Harry's nether regions stole his amusement.
The boots were just regulation Auror boots that got covered in mud the first day of training and stayed that way until retirement or death. Yet they'd never looked quite like that to Harry before this moment. Never had they made his palms itch to feel the smooth, soft leather beneath his finger tips.
Each of the seven photos were of Scorpius. Michael was the brains behind the idea but he did not have the face – or the body – to pull off anything quite like this.
The first frame was relatively tame: Scorpius in a vintage Auror uniform. He could almost belong in the portrait gallery on the fourth floor, except that none of the ancient line of Head Aurors ever made it feel like a sin to look at them. And then there was the second frame; Harry's mouth went dry. It gave new meaning to the age-old joke about what Aurors wore under their robes. Merlin, they could not possibly sell that picture to the public. Harry's blood flowed south at the thought of owning such a photo for private use. His eyes travelled the trail of fine hair as it disappeared below the strategically placed sheet or dear Merlin! Harry realised those were Scorpius's Auror trousers pulled down to his knees. Harry caught himself gnawing his lower lip and shook his head to clear it.
Ignoring the plentiful skin afforded by the other frames, he focused on the last: a simple head-shot of Scorpius with an apple, looking every bit as dangerous as Eden's snake.
Then in struck him that there was nothing overtly sexual about that frame. It was something for housewives to stick to their kitchen cabinet. Teenage girls could giggle about in the halls of Hogwarts. Still, the photos were just sexy enough to make the calendars fly off the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. They would easily make the money to compensate for the shrunken budget. A few more not-unhandsome Aurors, modestly posed would make reasonable filler. But Scorpius's face on the cover would sell the lot.
It was genius.
"– and they agreed it was just their first idea."
Harry blinked up at Ron who had apparently not stopped talking when Harry stopped listening. "This might work," he said.
"Er, it might?" Ron cleared his throat and glanced down at the photos and a blotchy blush crept up his neck.
"I'll see those two in the morning to discuss the details." It was on the tip of his tongue to request Scorpius bring the outfit. Harry shifted his weight at the uncomfortable tightening of his trousers.
"Right. Okay." Ron's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he began to slip the photos back into the envelope.
Harry touched his wrist, a feather-light and unmistakable message.
Ron halted and looked up.
"That will be all."
Ron paused for heartbeat before letting the pile drop back onto the desk, but moved no further.
"Goodnight, Ron." Harry nodded to him, not quite meeting his eye.
"Goodnight, then," Ron responded, and made his way to the door.
Harry didn't look up to see the incredulous look on his friend's face. He knew it was there, but he didn't care. Not at the moment, at least.
His mind was more pleasantly occupied with thoughts of apples and ruffles, pert nipples and pouty lips. At the sound of the soft click of Ron closing the door behind, Harry raised his wand and the office shimmered as the Privacy Charms activated. Loosening his tie, he settled in for a thorough perusal of this fund raising project.
Nearly thirty years as an Auror had taught him the importance of due diligence in all his investigations.
FIN
stellamoon for linking me to these ridiculously sexy NWS!!! photos last night. They were very inspiring. ♥Author:
marguerite_26 Title: Fund Raising
Rating: PG (yes, I am capable of writing something PG)
Pairing(s): Harry/Scorpius
Summary: Harry is suffering from budget problems, and Scorpius has a solution.
Warnings: ADW(48/22)
Word Count: 1300
Thank you to
vaysh11 for the beta read. I played with more, and likely added mistakes. Sorry, my dear.Harry whipped the glasses off his face and tossed them onto the piles of parchment covering his desk. They fell between two stone-cold, half-drank cups of coffee. He looked again at the sums and figures of his new budget. They looked much better in the hazy blur of his natural vision than the crisp unforgiving digits that the glasses enabled.
He could not run a department on the pittance the Ministry was allotting him this year. Cutting cost meant taking risks, lowering standards, and shrinking the Auror force. Steps like that would cost lives; it was only a matter of time whether it be from faulty equipment, poor training or simply not enough man power. They were not legislating cauldron bottom thickness here. They were saving lives. And yet Kingsley's words rang loud in his head: Make it work.
Fuck.
"Er. Harry?" Ron peaked through the crack in the open door. "Good time?"
Harry blinked up at him and nodded, feeling about for his glasses and knocking over one of the cups in the process. Several of his detailed cost-saving plans fell victim to the spill.
Fuck.
Ron's wand swiftly Vanished the mess and Harry's eyes narrowed instantly. It had to be bad news, or Ron would have just laughed his arse off about Harry's clumsiness rather than try to salvage what would be found of his boss's good humour.
"What's happened?" Harry sighed.
"Nothing," Ron replied too quickly and sat, his hand fidgeting about with a large envelope.
Harry waited, his eyes not leaving the crisp, white envelope. It crinkled as Ron babbled, making Harry's jaw ache from grinding his teeth.
After a short anecdote about the ugliness of Ginny's new beau, Ron darted from his seat as if to leave. But he didn't leave. Instead, he bounced on his heels for a bit. "Oh," he began, as if he'd just remembered the purpose of his visit. "Remember last staff meeting you assigned Scorpius and Michael to think about fund-raising schemes to off-set the Ministry cuts?"
Harry huffed, "You know I did that to shut them up. God, the ideas they were coming up with –"
"Yes, well, um."
Dread balled a knot deep in Harry's belly. "What?"
"They, um, pursued the calendar idea a bit further." Ron rushed through the words as though Harry wouldn't get quite so angry if he didn't get a chance to process them properly. "You see, Michael's Muggle father is a flamefighter –"
"Firefighter."
"Whatever. And they do this sort of thing were they sell calendars with pictures of their staff –"
Harry'd had enough. "Give me the envelope."
"They are very ambitious, those two –" Ron retreated his hand, pulling the envelope out of reach. "– even have the printing costs all calculated. Muggle photos are all the rage now apparently –"
"Give me the envelope, Ron."
"They are just samples. To get a sense of–"
Harry lunged and ripped the envelope out of Ron's hand. With a snap of his wrist, he shook the contents onto his desk.
Fuck.
Harry blinked, focusing on one photo after the other. Harry felt a warm flush spread on his cheeks and neck as he took in the ruffles and skin and plump, plump lips. Was that lip gloss, or had he just never noticed Scorpius's lips before? It was surely gloss. And eyeliner. And there was a heart shaped mole drawn on Scorpius's pale, flawless cheeks. The costume and pose was all so over the top that it should have been comical except the undeniable tingling in Harry's nether regions stole his amusement.
The boots were just regulation Auror boots that got covered in mud the first day of training and stayed that way until retirement or death. Yet they'd never looked quite like that to Harry before this moment. Never had they made his palms itch to feel the smooth, soft leather beneath his finger tips.
Each of the seven photos were of Scorpius. Michael was the brains behind the idea but he did not have the face – or the body – to pull off anything quite like this.
The first frame was relatively tame: Scorpius in a vintage Auror uniform. He could almost belong in the portrait gallery on the fourth floor, except that none of the ancient line of Head Aurors ever made it feel like a sin to look at them. And then there was the second frame; Harry's mouth went dry. It gave new meaning to the age-old joke about what Aurors wore under their robes. Merlin, they could not possibly sell that picture to the public. Harry's blood flowed south at the thought of owning such a photo for private use. His eyes travelled the trail of fine hair as it disappeared below the strategically placed sheet or dear Merlin! Harry realised those were Scorpius's Auror trousers pulled down to his knees. Harry caught himself gnawing his lower lip and shook his head to clear it.
Ignoring the plentiful skin afforded by the other frames, he focused on the last: a simple head-shot of Scorpius with an apple, looking every bit as dangerous as Eden's snake.
Then in struck him that there was nothing overtly sexual about that frame. It was something for housewives to stick to their kitchen cabinet. Teenage girls could giggle about in the halls of Hogwarts. Still, the photos were just sexy enough to make the calendars fly off the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. They would easily make the money to compensate for the shrunken budget. A few more not-unhandsome Aurors, modestly posed would make reasonable filler. But Scorpius's face on the cover would sell the lot.
It was genius.
"– and they agreed it was just their first idea."
Harry blinked up at Ron who had apparently not stopped talking when Harry stopped listening. "This might work," he said.
"Er, it might?" Ron cleared his throat and glanced down at the photos and a blotchy blush crept up his neck.
"I'll see those two in the morning to discuss the details." It was on the tip of his tongue to request Scorpius bring the outfit. Harry shifted his weight at the uncomfortable tightening of his trousers.
"Right. Okay." Ron's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he began to slip the photos back into the envelope.
Harry touched his wrist, a feather-light and unmistakable message.
Ron halted and looked up.
"That will be all."
Ron paused for heartbeat before letting the pile drop back onto the desk, but moved no further.
"Goodnight, Ron." Harry nodded to him, not quite meeting his eye.
"Goodnight, then," Ron responded, and made his way to the door.
Harry didn't look up to see the incredulous look on his friend's face. He knew it was there, but he didn't care. Not at the moment, at least.
His mind was more pleasantly occupied with thoughts of apples and ruffles, pert nipples and pouty lips. At the sound of the soft click of Ron closing the door behind, Harry raised his wand and the office shimmered as the Privacy Charms activated. Loosening his tie, he settled in for a thorough perusal of this fund raising project.
Nearly thirty years as an Auror had taught him the importance of due diligence in all his investigations.