#scooch

Scootch

THANK YOU to Anonymous for donating to the Supporting South High School families fundraiser and requesting a doodle of "Scooch from episode 17"! Perfect prompt. Three-inch half-chickadee half-hamster griffon. He is less than an apple tall.

for @drarrymicrofic prompt: flight | wordcount 257

“Scooch.” 

“What, pray tell, is scooch?” 

“Like, scooch…over?” Harry illustrates with a gesture. 

“. . .” 

“Oh, c’mon Malfoy, don’t be a prat.” Harry flies right beside him, brooms close and polished enough to reflect each other. Bristles scratching. He gestures again. “Scooch.”

Malfoy makes a show of his protest, but their height above the ground has instilled a certain amount of docility in Draco. Still, Harry makes an equal show of yawning and merrily swinging his feet. Far, far below them, sheep drift like dandelion seeds; a stream weaves through Wiltshire like thread.

“P-Potter, Merlin, Harry, what the f—what are you, ohmygod! Why are you—like this—I hate you! I hate this! Unhand me! Gaah!!”

Harry boards Malfoy’s broom with a not insignificant amount of bobbing, catching the handle of his own in the cradle between his ankle and foot. Malfoy sputters and squawks and noticeably does not mention the impressiveness of this feat, which Harry thinks is stingy of him.

“…what is this, you utter git?” 

Wiggling up with his hips, Harry bumps Draco forward, wrapping his arms around him in the breeze. A few strands of cornsilk hair gets stuck to Harry’s lips as he presses his smile to the panicked line of Malfoy’s shoulders. Draco’s blushing, Harry just knows it—he's gone quiet, all squawked out.