Echos of past lives: The Moulin Rouge | By : ForeverYoung Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5111 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Raitings: R
Notes: I know I should be writing my other fic, and I am, but its just comming slowly, so I've decided to start a new fic while I'm waiting on the other. Gomen!
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Draco Malfoy ran a hand down his face. Smoothing back his hair quickly, he ran to Transfigurations Class as quickly as he could, inhailing a bagel on the way since he had missed breakfast by over sleeping. He didn't see the figure up ahead running in the same direction as him.
The two bodies colided, and limbs went flying everywhere.
"Fucking idiot! Whatch were you're going! Ow! Bloody hell!" Draco nursed a sore finger. Draco looked over to see who the other person was that he had run into.
Harry Potter sat opposit of him, looking very sexy sprawled out like he was. Draco's eyes widened. I did not just think that. Just because you have dreams of him every night...Draco mentally slapped himself. Get a grip!
Harry sat up and winced. He could tell he was going to have a nice bruise there tommorow.
He looked over and saw the other person who had just run into him. Draco Malfoy just sat there staring at him, much like all his other groupies stared at him. Was Malfoy a queer?
Harry stood up and brushed his robes off, and walked into class, leaving a gaping Draco Malfoy sitting and staring after his ass.
Draco swore while scrambling up to run in to class.
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Draco sighed, banging his head repeatedly on the table. Those dreams he was having were getting out of hand. They were almost like...something that had happened to him in another life. The song that was stuck in his head was eerily familiar.
'Kiss...hand...diamons best friend. Men...cold...Girls old, and we all loose our charms in the end.'
Why the hell was he dreaming about Harry as a singing cross dressing whore in 1901, and in Paris no less?
He groaned. I should do some research.
With that solved he stood up from the Slytherin table and walked quickly to the liabrary. Maybe
he could find some old 1901 periordicle articles from Paris.
A name echoed in his brain and he wondered where it came from.
"Moulin Rouge."
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Yes its going to be a lot of Draco and Harry! Slash Slash Slash!
Harry: "I hate you."
Lily: "What? Why?"
Harry: "You made me a cross-dresser, and a whore! I only like Draco."
Lily: "Well...we will see if I continue. If i get lots of reviews I will!"
Harry: "Nobody review! I want Lily to forget about this fic!!!"
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