The Quince Tree, Harry/Draco, PG-13
Title: The Quince Tree
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Words: 654
Betas: dysonrules
Warnings/Spoilers: Mourning over the death of a main character.
Notes: Written for bryoneybrynn's Inbrynnitus meet-up as a gift.
Prompt: quince
Prompt Given By: bryoneybrynn
Summary: Two people stood near a small tree in a field in the middle of a wood.
"I think he wanted things to grow from his death."
Two people stood near a small tree in a field in the middle of a wood.
"I don’t really care right now, Hermione."
"I think that might have been the first time you’ve ever used my name, Draco."
"Isn’t 'Granger' your name? I call you that all the time."
"It’s 'Weasley' now, though, isn’t it?"
"'Weasley', 'Granger', whatever. Obnoxious names for obnoxious people."
"Draco…"
"No, I don’t give a shit if I’m hurting your feelings right now. Just… just go away."
"He didn’t want you to be alone, either."
Draco turned to Hermione, tears spilling down his blotchy cheeks. "I DON’T CARE WHAT HE WANTED. WHAT HE WANTED FUCKING GOT HIM KILLED. SO FUCK HARRY POTTER! FUCK HIM AND WHAT HE WANTED! WHAT ABOUT ME? WHAT ABOUT WHAT I WANT?"
Hermione took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her nose. "What do you want, Draco?"
Draco wiped some threatening snot from his nose with the sleeve of his expensive coat. "I… I… I just want him back. I want him to be alive, and thinking about how his decisions affect others, and how fucking stupid his decision was the day that took him away from me." He looked down at the base of the tree, to the soft carving in the wood that would scar the bark forever as the tree grew and grew.
Hermione took a chance and stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Draco, he saved lives. He saved your life every day. He died doing what he does best. Saving people."
"He hated saving people, you know."
"No, he didn’t."
"Oh, he’d never have told you that, but he did. He got so sick of it. So sick of risking his life, so sick of saving stupid people who got themselves in stupid situations, so sick of dealing with the evil of the world. He had already had enough. You get that?"
Hermione hmm’d and turned to the tree. "This tree will be fruiting in about a year."
"It’s barely a sapling. I bet it won’t last the winter."
"Is that what you think of him? Do you think he’ll just fade away?"
"Well, why not? He’s gone, isn’t he?"
"I don’t even know what to say to that."
"Then don’t say anything. Go away."
"He loved you, Draco. He really, really did."
"Not enough, apparently."
"Ooooh!" Hermione grit her teeth and turned to him. "Draco Malfoy! Why can’t you just fucking accept that Harry loved you, and what happened wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t his choice? That he fucking died trying to protect people, including you, and that he wasn’t a fucking god. He wasn’t all-knowing, and he died loving you and wanting nothing more than for you to be safe. He fucking loved you, you big buffoon!" Hermione lashed out, pushing Draco away, who, startled, lost his footing and fell on his ass in the middle of the crunchy, wet snow.
Blinking, his mouth hanging open, Draco stared up at Hermione, who held a mittened hand up to her mouth in shock. A small smile spread at the corner of her lips, and she started snickering, which turned into loud, joyful laughter, ringing out against the trees on the far side of the field. Birds were startled by the noise and took off into the air in a loud beating of wings.
Draco continued to stare at his companion, and looking over at the quince tree that bore "H+D" in the trunk, he smiled, feeling foolish without his stature overbearing the tree. He laughed, his deeper bursts mixing with Hermione’s lighter tones and carrying up into the sky, breaking up the quiet of the wood.
"He really did love me, didn’t he?" Draco asked, after they both regained control.
Hermione smiled, wiping tears off her cheeks. "Yes, he did."
"Then that’s all I want for now."
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Words: 654
Betas: dysonrules
Warnings/Spoilers: Mourning over the death of a main character.
Notes: Written for bryoneybrynn's Inbrynnitus meet-up as a gift.
Prompt: quince
Prompt Given By: bryoneybrynn
Summary: Two people stood near a small tree in a field in the middle of a wood.
"I think he wanted things to grow from his death."
Two people stood near a small tree in a field in the middle of a wood.
"I don’t really care right now, Hermione."
"I think that might have been the first time you’ve ever used my name, Draco."
"Isn’t 'Granger' your name? I call you that all the time."
"It’s 'Weasley' now, though, isn’t it?"
"'Weasley', 'Granger', whatever. Obnoxious names for obnoxious people."
"Draco…"
"No, I don’t give a shit if I’m hurting your feelings right now. Just… just go away."
"He didn’t want you to be alone, either."
Draco turned to Hermione, tears spilling down his blotchy cheeks. "I DON’T CARE WHAT HE WANTED. WHAT HE WANTED FUCKING GOT HIM KILLED. SO FUCK HARRY POTTER! FUCK HIM AND WHAT HE WANTED! WHAT ABOUT ME? WHAT ABOUT WHAT I WANT?"
Hermione took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her nose. "What do you want, Draco?"
Draco wiped some threatening snot from his nose with the sleeve of his expensive coat. "I… I… I just want him back. I want him to be alive, and thinking about how his decisions affect others, and how fucking stupid his decision was the day that took him away from me." He looked down at the base of the tree, to the soft carving in the wood that would scar the bark forever as the tree grew and grew.
Hermione took a chance and stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Draco, he saved lives. He saved your life every day. He died doing what he does best. Saving people."
"He hated saving people, you know."
"No, he didn’t."
"Oh, he’d never have told you that, but he did. He got so sick of it. So sick of risking his life, so sick of saving stupid people who got themselves in stupid situations, so sick of dealing with the evil of the world. He had already had enough. You get that?"
Hermione hmm’d and turned to the tree. "This tree will be fruiting in about a year."
"It’s barely a sapling. I bet it won’t last the winter."
"Is that what you think of him? Do you think he’ll just fade away?"
"Well, why not? He’s gone, isn’t he?"
"I don’t even know what to say to that."
"Then don’t say anything. Go away."
"He loved you, Draco. He really, really did."
"Not enough, apparently."
"Ooooh!" Hermione grit her teeth and turned to him. "Draco Malfoy! Why can’t you just fucking accept that Harry loved you, and what happened wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t his choice? That he fucking died trying to protect people, including you, and that he wasn’t a fucking god. He wasn’t all-knowing, and he died loving you and wanting nothing more than for you to be safe. He fucking loved you, you big buffoon!" Hermione lashed out, pushing Draco away, who, startled, lost his footing and fell on his ass in the middle of the crunchy, wet snow.
Blinking, his mouth hanging open, Draco stared up at Hermione, who held a mittened hand up to her mouth in shock. A small smile spread at the corner of her lips, and she started snickering, which turned into loud, joyful laughter, ringing out against the trees on the far side of the field. Birds were startled by the noise and took off into the air in a loud beating of wings.
Draco continued to stare at his companion, and looking over at the quince tree that bore "H+D" in the trunk, he smiled, feeling foolish without his stature overbearing the tree. He laughed, his deeper bursts mixing with Hermione’s lighter tones and carrying up into the sky, breaking up the quiet of the wood.
"He really did love me, didn’t he?" Draco asked, after they both regained control.
Hermione smiled, wiping tears off her cheeks. "Yes, he did."
"Then that’s all I want for now."