(no subject)

Jul 21, 2005 13:27



Title: Red Silk Tie
Author: blxck
Pairing: Harry/Draco (implied & tentative) and a mention of Harry/Boy!Blaise
Rating: PG
Genre: 2 parts angst, 1 pinch of fluff
Word Count: 1,367
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's, not mine - I can't afford to be sued.
Summary: "He had imagined it on Harry, knowing full well that the red would enhance the clear, glittering emerald green of Harry’s eyes." It's sometimes hard to see the obvious when you're oblivious. A one-shot fic centered around a red silk tie and green, green eyes.
A/N: First ever tentative H/D one-shot fic completed. Comments appreciated. :D

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Draco ran his right hand through his hair, thoroughly aware that he was mussing up the fine silk-blond strands. He sighed and warily slumped back into the couch. In his left hand, he held the solid red silk tie that Harry had on earlier in the evening. Draco fingered the smooth, cold fabric and found comfort in the feel of rich elegance as the silk tie grazed his fingertips.

“I just, I - I don’t want to talk to you right now, Malfoy.” Harry had said, earlier. Harry had been standing in front of the mirror in the sleek white and shiny bathroom of their hotel suite. He was tugging at the red tie and frowning in concentration, while struggling to contain his emotions in front of Draco. Harry had unknotted the tie, pulled it from around his neck and dropped it on the floor.

Draco was standing under the threshold of the bathroom door and staring at Harry in the mirror. His eyes had flickered down to the tie when Harry let it slip through his fingers and flutter to the ground.

The tie clashed against the stark white brightness of the immaculately clean bathroom.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Harry.” Draco had said in a quiet voice. Harry never called Draco by surname unless he was angry or upset. It was usually he who called Harry by surname out of sheer habit.

Harry had pulled out his wand, leveled it with the side of his temple and muttered an incantation to reverse the vision correction charm he had performed earlier. Draco watched, dejectedly, as Harry picked up his glasses from the bathroom counter top and put them on. Harry never left the vision correction charm on his eyes for long periods of time, he always said that the strain of the charm felt just as uncomfortable as wearing muggle contact lenses.

Without another word, Harry pushed pass Draco while avoiding eye contact and walked out of the bathroom, across the hall and into his bedroom. Draco sighed but remained motionless, listening to the door click shut behind him. He shut his eyes and stood rooted in spot for another moment before abruptly opening them to see the red tie still lying against the white tile of the bathroom floor.

He stepped forward and picked it up.

Draco had then resolutely moved to the couch in the living room of the hotel suite where he sat there with the tie in his hands, and sulked.

It was the first present Draco had ever given Harry. Draco had picked the silk red tie as a casual and neutral gift to give Harry for Christmas - the first Christmas they had shared together as friends. He had imagined it on Harry, knowing full well that the red would enhance the clear, glittering emerald green of Harry’s eyes. Draco envied Harry’s eyes; livid pools of various shades of green that changed with Harry’s mood.

Throughout their growing friendship, Draco was exposed to the various tints and shades of Harry’s eyes. If Harry was in serious thought or deep contemplation, his eyes would darken, turning into a lush pine forest green shade. If he was content, the brilliant green eyes would become clear; filtering shades of pure green and reflecting highlights of silvery-white. If he was angry and hurt or felt strong hatred towards something at a particular moment, his eyes seemed to shut everything into darkness; reflecting nothing but a hollow deep green-black. If he was laughing, talking about something he was passionate about, or watching someone he cares deeply about, his eyes would shine and light up like glittering precious emeralds.

Draco had only ever thought that he had seen Harry’s eyes light up for him a few times during the existence of their friendship. He couldn’t tell sometimes, when Harry had his glasses on. Draco hated when Harry wore his glasses. The glare of the lenses seemed to cause Harry’s eyes to dull in colour.

Draco would frequently scowl at Harry from across a table or room when Harry would be wearing glasses. Harry didn’t understand, of course. Draco never explained why he scowled, and Harry had eventually assumed that Draco had an obsessive compulsive scowling problem. Draco would often have the urge to lean across the table, pull off Harry’s glasses and carelessly fling them aside, not caring and half-wishing they would break and be left aside forever.

He has never acted on his urges though. He has never lost control of his emotions either, until now.

It had only been earlier that evening when Draco had, for no reason Harry could plainly see, rudely pushed Blaise back and thrown a punch at him. Blaise: his mate from Hogwarts, one that he had shared a dorm and used to exchange a few laughs with.

Draco let out a low sigh and listened as the mounted wall-clock ticked loudly, cutting into the thick silence of the dark room.

He knew they used to be together, Harry and Blaise.

He saw the way Blaise had touched Harry’s arm earlier that night during the unexpected meeting; possessively and longingly, filled with unspoken words of want and regret. He could see Blaise’s regret in leaving Harry. Draco saw it all in Blaise’s single touch. Most importantly, Draco saw Harry’s expression as Blaise touched him.

He watched Harry as Harry looked at Blaise.

He watched as Harry’s eyes flashed in amusement, lighting up and growing brighter, clearer. He watched as those green eyes he had always envied and lusted for glittered greener just for Blaise.

Draco’s hands fell slack and the red tie fell loosely onto the ground. He leaned forward, resting his elbows lightly on his knees, lowered his head into his hands and threaded his fingers through his hair.

He had lost control.

It had felt right, hitting Blaise, lashing out and unleashing pent-up emotion on him. He hadn’t felt one bit sorry for Blaise, whose lip had split and blood had trickled forth from it because of the hit. Draco had wanted to laugh: the blood was red, just like the tie he had gave Harry. Harry had stood there in initial bewilderment, eyes flickering with several emotions and struggling to settle on one of them as they darted from Draco to Blaise. Harry had then looked at Draco and their eyes locked.

Harry’s expression and eyes reflecting nothing but hollow darkness was a hit Draco took that hurt ten times more than the hit Blaise took. Harry’s eyes were dark green; they were dark to the point that they were nearly black in colour.

Draco wanted to explain; he wanted to tell Harry that he had felt jealous of Blaise. He wanted to apologize for causing a scene. He wanted to express his confused mixed emotions he had had for Harry for the past few months. Most of all, he wanted to tell Harry how much he loved his green eyes when they lit up so that maybe they would stop reflecting nothing but black hatred and actually light up in return.

Draco couldn’t though.

He had stood there, breathing erratically and forcibly swallowing the emotions and words that threatened to consume him. Emotions and words that he could not simply express through the grace and eloquence of sugared words and fanciful imagery because it wouldn’t be enough.

He couldn’t say it.

And so Draco now sat in the dark room remembering the dark green eyes reflecting hollow nothingness back at him. And he would recall how they once shone bright for him - greener than emeralds - that one Christmas morning when Harry had received the elegant red silk tie.

Of all the emotions and tints and shades that Draco could decipher and see in Harry’s green eyes, he couldn’t see what truly mattered.

He never saw the moments when Harry’s shy green eyes would flicker in private delight as they stole glances at him, unawares.

He never saw the want and longing mirrored from his own eyes in Harry’s when their eyes would catch each others in brief moments.

And he had never once seen that Harry’s green eyes only had eyes for him.
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