milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Here is a Miniver. He's out of the infirmary, but one might say... not exactly looking spectacular.

He's sprawling more or less in a booth. Possibly he ended up here stopping to rest on his way to his room and forgot to move again. Or something.

There's a little enchanted model dragon skulking around the table and apparently trying to boil the glass of water a rat deposited on the table at some point, which is being ignored in favor of a book, which Miniver is sometimes reading, and sometimes staring off into space distractedly.

Come say hi to the recovering alcoholic.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It did. We'll still have to see about getting you a wand. I think there's still some places to go for it. Ollivander's is closed for now, but there's others."

Draco smiled, and leaned over to kiss him, "Not a Muggle now."

If there was ever an opportune time to coin the phrase "tacklesnogging," this would be it.

There may be other things that juuuuust border on challenging certain bar rules, but they're in a booth and fairly inconspicuous.

Draco flailed back with a gasp and a noise not unlike his fox yips. Possibly even a pleased growl.

Oh, there would be more of this.

Possibly in smallish increments until his body recovers from four days without food and the lingering symptoms of withdrawal, but oh yes, there would be more of this.

For the time being, Miniver's enthusiasm is curbed by his body's inability to sustain any energetic activity for very long. But it's in his eyes, even when he slows, panting. And he doesn't move any further away than he has to.

Draco settled back against him, and kissed his cheek.

"You're welcome," he murmured, "Better now?"

"I think," he whispers, "I will be. Very, very soon."

There is snuggling and shifting about until they fit together perfectly.

"So you need a wand to do it, right? Don't suppose that's something Bar might just have up her metaphoical sleeve, huh?"

Draco shook his head, "They're specially made. Have to go to either my world. Or better yet, Tom's world. Find a wand shop. Not just any will do, it has to be unique to you."

"...That sounds like it could take a while," Miniver says, a touch dubiously. Like looking for a needle in a haystack. "How long did it take for you to find yours?"

Draco shrugged, "Some attempts, but just one shop. Usually don't have to go to more than one."

"Oh. Well. That's easy then. So... wait. How is Tom's world different?"

"A number of things I'm sure. For one thing, Voldemort's dead there."

"Oh. Well. That sounds good." Miniver cuddles against Draco, mind ticking with refreshing clarity relative to the past few days. "Wait, isn't Tom's world London Below?"

"Well his world is London Below now. It wasn't always. He's from another version of my world."

Miniver raises a brow. "Cool. Weird, but cool. So wait. If Voldemort's dead in one world... can't you just move there? Or use whatever they did to kill him in your version?"

Draco considered a moment, "I suppose. But things are different in mine. Some people are there who aren't in my world. And I can't move there. There's probably another me there already."

Miniver considers this.

And GRINS.

"Hot. We should look him up and invite him over. Party time."

He's joking.

Really.

Mostly.

0.0

Draco's eyes were that wide.

"No... Absolutely not!"

Miniver laughs and punches Draco's shoulder playfully.

"What, scared you won't get me back?"

"Well...partly. And also, having to compete against myself seems rather tacky."

"Somehow, I think I'd have to compete against you," he teases. But lovingly. "Although... mmm. That'd be a pretty sight." Now he's just goofing, because he knows he'll get a reaction.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't mind staring at myself, but I think that's taking narcissism too far. Even for me."

"Well, then, at least I know there's another you out there if the one I have gets tired of me. Because I'll never get tired of you. I'd look for you in every face in every world I went to, for all the rest of my life if that's what it took." A gentle kiss, and tracing his finger over Draco's ear and jaw.

"Sounds like a very pathetic life. But you would be chasing after me so that wouldn't be entirely bad," Draco softly replied as he snuggled against him, his eyes half close.

Miniver nuzzles Draco's hair.

"I would suggest we go up to your room, but I'm afraid I would bore you terribly with my inability to remain conscious for long stretches of time. I haven't eaten anything since you took away my flask." Whine.

And it shows on him. He was too skinny to begin with. He's lost a good amount of weight after four days of being almost constantly sick, sleepless, and in a state of nervous agitation.

Draco gave him a *look* at that whine. Very like his late father again.

"Well, we could still go up to my room, and order a banquet to have there."