Need
Title: Need
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance/Angst
Length: 1525
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry hates Christmas, with due reason. Draco doesn't want him to talk about it.
Warning: Character death (not Harry or Draco)
Note: Fits with _hpchallenge prompt 'Fire.'
"I hate Christmas," Harry stated, lifting his head from the pillow just enough to be audible.
It was halfway through the Christmas day and they were buried under the thick comforters, lights out but sunlight streaming through the edges of the shades. They'd received numerous party invitations -- actually Harry had, what with being the Man Who Saved Them All -- but Harry declined each one with a sad little snort. It was exactly what they did last Christmas. "I know." Draco tilted Harry's face out of the pillow so he could kiss him.
Harry sighed against him. "No one understands why I hate it so much." He gazed beseechingly at Draco, eyes wide and raw. "Doesn't anyone remember the war?"
Draco went to snort but caught himself in time. He often chastised Harry for doing so. Instead he settled for exhaling and saying bitterly, "I wish I did."
"I hear that," Harry said with a breathy laugh. They lapsed into silence and Draco contemplated peeling the blankets off and taking a shower. But that would mean leaving Harry alone. He didn't trust leaving Harry alone around Christmas, especially after last year.
"Of course, I can't tell them why," Harry mumbled, burying his face into Draco's neck. "It hurts too much to talk about it."
"Then don't," Draco said sharply. Harry stiffened and Draco trailed his fingers over Harry's back lightly. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to hurt." He felt guilty for lying but he didn't want to talk about it either.
Harry sat, the blanket pooling around his waist. Draco leaned forward and licked his navel, wishing he would fall asleep. "But I need to talk about it. Just, just with you." Draco sighed irritably and rested his head on the pillow. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep... but Harry started talking almost instantly, a quiver in his voice.
"It was Christmas morning when the Death Eaters attacked. What kind of sick fucks attack on Christmas? Didn't they have families to spend it with?" Suddenly he grabbed Draco's left arm and pulled it out in the open. He gazed at the faded mark for a few seconds then whispered, "Sorry," and kissed it. Draco wrenched his arm away and pulled Harry down beside him.
"I was at the Weasleys with them. They barged in when we were unwrapping presents. Green shot everywhere." He paused to gasp for air, eyes shinning. Draco was afraid to move. Harry had never spoke of it before. Then again, neither had he. No one knew about his own experience that night. "Ron -- Ron fell down beside me. His eyes were wide, lifeless. I-I whipped out my wand to fight back but -- but Mrs Weasley fell on me. She was dead too.
"After they killed everyone they left, laughing. They were fucking laughing. They must have not seen me between R-Ron and Mrs Weasley, but then the house was on fire." Harry's mouth seemed unable to close and it just wavered there, tears streaming down his face. Draco slipped his tongue inside, half hoping it would shut him up. Instead, Harry seemed to gain strength from the gesture because he continued.
"I almost stayed there. How could I let Ron lay there and be burned? What about Ginny and Mrs Weasley? Fred and George, Bill, Charlie, and Mr Weasley were there too. I think one Death Eater died, but we didn't have any time to react. Charlie was drinking tea when it happened!" He paused and wiped his face on the pillow. Draco cringed. "I wished I'd stayed in there. I know that's terrible. I did kill Voldemort later that day, which is why everyone loves Christmas more, and think I should be happy about it. But, Draco, I want to be with them."
Draco pulled Harry close and grimaced when tears coated his shoulder, but he didn't say anything. Harry shook in his arms, making him fell guilty.
"Hermione was home with her parents at the time. I'm glad for that. But we don't talk anymore. It's too hard too. It was always Hermione, Ron, and I. Now it's just Hermione and I and it's so painfully obvious that Ron's not there. I haven't seen her in half a year. She invited us to her house for Christmas, no party, but I couldn't go."
Draco nodded. He wished Harry had agreed to go, even if that meant visiting the mudblood's house. He couldn't deal with Harry on his own, not when he didn't feel so great himself.
"She's with Ernie McMillan now. Someone not connected to the war. I think it did her well, not being reminded of the war every day."
"But you're with someone connected to the war," Draco pointed out, his stomach clenching.
Harry pulled back and looked him in the eyes. His green ones were brimming over with tears but they had stopped falling. "I know," he said hoarsely. "But I need you. And I know you don't need me, so I already feel foolish about it. But I--"
Draco cut into his sure-to-be ramble with, "I was there that Christmas."
Harry's mouth snapped shut and he shifted away. Draco winced. What had possessed him to say that?
"I was there when they walked up to the house. I was supposed to help with the killings. Fuck, when they barged in I froze. I saw you all, sitting around with wrapping paper. The paper was so cherry, all bright red and green. Do you know, it was almost the same shade of green as the killing curse? I saw them hit Weasley -- Ron, and him fall next to you."
The body fell, red hair already looking less bright, like the curse had sucked everything out of him. In a way it had. Weasley landed next to Potter, who jumped up. Draco ran, he ran and ran, mouth opened in a silent scream. He heard someone yell and a thud. He didn't know who was winning, who was dieing. Everything was so painfully loud.
The frosted grass crinkled beneath his feet. Behind him the house lit up in streaks of green. Blindly his fingers landed on a door and he entered the shed at the same time his fellow Death Eaters filed out of the house, their laughter curling in his ears.
One of them yelled a spell he couldn't catch but the side of the house was aflame and the purpose of the spell was obvious. Draco watched the house burn, the fire lick away the outer covering. It danced around, coiling the shingles and reaching for the sky. The frost kept it from spreading through the yard.
Draco fell to the dusty floor and wrapped his arm around his legs.
"And I just sat there and cried, hoping they wouldn't hear me, but I couldn't stop. I just cried like a coward. I didn't help anyone. My father was in that group and he could have died but I was too scared. I just ran." He opened his eyes and looked at Harry. There was a petrified look on Harry's face and he was so far away that he threatened to fall off the bed.
"Fuck, Harry, I didn't want to tell you. See, I need you too. I don't understand it, but I do." Draco reached across the distance and grabbed Harry's hand. Slowly Harry inched closer to Draco until they were holding each other. For some reason Draco felt complied to say something.
"I never needed anyone before. Well, my mother I guess. But I used to love Pansy. I was 'in love' with her, I guess you could say. But I didn't need her, so I left her."
"If you loved her why'd you leave her?" Harry interrupted, kissing Draco's knuckles.
Draco sighed. "Because I didn't need her. Malfoys are supposed to be independent. We don't need anyone. Leaving her proved to me that I can be a Malfoy. Of course, that idea stopped when I ran away from killing. But you I can't leave if I wanted to. I need you, plain and simple. I just don't get it."
Harry wedged a leg between Draco's and peered closely at him. Draco wished he hadn't said anything. He was turning into some sappy sod, but at least Harry's tears had vanished.
"Do you need to know why?" Harry asked, kissing Draco lazily.
"Yes," Draco answered shortly. "How can need be stronger than love?" He bent his head back so he could look at Harry's face without his eyes unfocusing. "Didn't you ever need someone so much that love didn't matter?"
Harry gave a sharp, bitter laugh. "I'm a Gryffindor, Draco. I need love."
Draco pulled the comforters over them. The cool air on his bare back was starting to get to him. Harry shifted so their heads were beside each other on the pillow. For once Draco didn't mind not doing anything but laying next to Harry on Christmas. Besides, someone had to keep Harry from doing any drastic life-threatening activities. He snaked his arms around Harry's neck and kissed his collarbone. "Well, you have it."
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance/Angst
Length: 1525
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry hates Christmas, with due reason. Draco doesn't want him to talk about it.
Warning: Character death (not Harry or Draco)
Note: Fits with _hpchallenge prompt 'Fire.'
"I hate Christmas," Harry stated, lifting his head from the pillow just enough to be audible.
It was halfway through the Christmas day and they were buried under the thick comforters, lights out but sunlight streaming through the edges of the shades. They'd received numerous party invitations -- actually Harry had, what with being the Man Who Saved Them All -- but Harry declined each one with a sad little snort. It was exactly what they did last Christmas. "I know." Draco tilted Harry's face out of the pillow so he could kiss him.
Harry sighed against him. "No one understands why I hate it so much." He gazed beseechingly at Draco, eyes wide and raw. "Doesn't anyone remember the war?"
Draco went to snort but caught himself in time. He often chastised Harry for doing so. Instead he settled for exhaling and saying bitterly, "I wish I did."
"I hear that," Harry said with a breathy laugh. They lapsed into silence and Draco contemplated peeling the blankets off and taking a shower. But that would mean leaving Harry alone. He didn't trust leaving Harry alone around Christmas, especially after last year.
"Of course, I can't tell them why," Harry mumbled, burying his face into Draco's neck. "It hurts too much to talk about it."
"Then don't," Draco said sharply. Harry stiffened and Draco trailed his fingers over Harry's back lightly. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to hurt." He felt guilty for lying but he didn't want to talk about it either.
Harry sat, the blanket pooling around his waist. Draco leaned forward and licked his navel, wishing he would fall asleep. "But I need to talk about it. Just, just with you." Draco sighed irritably and rested his head on the pillow. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep... but Harry started talking almost instantly, a quiver in his voice.
"It was Christmas morning when the Death Eaters attacked. What kind of sick fucks attack on Christmas? Didn't they have families to spend it with?" Suddenly he grabbed Draco's left arm and pulled it out in the open. He gazed at the faded mark for a few seconds then whispered, "Sorry," and kissed it. Draco wrenched his arm away and pulled Harry down beside him.
"I was at the Weasleys with them. They barged in when we were unwrapping presents. Green shot everywhere." He paused to gasp for air, eyes shinning. Draco was afraid to move. Harry had never spoke of it before. Then again, neither had he. No one knew about his own experience that night. "Ron -- Ron fell down beside me. His eyes were wide, lifeless. I-I whipped out my wand to fight back but -- but Mrs Weasley fell on me. She was dead too.
"After they killed everyone they left, laughing. They were fucking laughing. They must have not seen me between R-Ron and Mrs Weasley, but then the house was on fire." Harry's mouth seemed unable to close and it just wavered there, tears streaming down his face. Draco slipped his tongue inside, half hoping it would shut him up. Instead, Harry seemed to gain strength from the gesture because he continued.
"I almost stayed there. How could I let Ron lay there and be burned? What about Ginny and Mrs Weasley? Fred and George, Bill, Charlie, and Mr Weasley were there too. I think one Death Eater died, but we didn't have any time to react. Charlie was drinking tea when it happened!" He paused and wiped his face on the pillow. Draco cringed. "I wished I'd stayed in there. I know that's terrible. I did kill Voldemort later that day, which is why everyone loves Christmas more, and think I should be happy about it. But, Draco, I want to be with them."
Draco pulled Harry close and grimaced when tears coated his shoulder, but he didn't say anything. Harry shook in his arms, making him fell guilty.
"Hermione was home with her parents at the time. I'm glad for that. But we don't talk anymore. It's too hard too. It was always Hermione, Ron, and I. Now it's just Hermione and I and it's so painfully obvious that Ron's not there. I haven't seen her in half a year. She invited us to her house for Christmas, no party, but I couldn't go."
Draco nodded. He wished Harry had agreed to go, even if that meant visiting the mudblood's house. He couldn't deal with Harry on his own, not when he didn't feel so great himself.
"She's with Ernie McMillan now. Someone not connected to the war. I think it did her well, not being reminded of the war every day."
"But you're with someone connected to the war," Draco pointed out, his stomach clenching.
Harry pulled back and looked him in the eyes. His green ones were brimming over with tears but they had stopped falling. "I know," he said hoarsely. "But I need you. And I know you don't need me, so I already feel foolish about it. But I--"
Draco cut into his sure-to-be ramble with, "I was there that Christmas."
Harry's mouth snapped shut and he shifted away. Draco winced. What had possessed him to say that?
"I was there when they walked up to the house. I was supposed to help with the killings. Fuck, when they barged in I froze. I saw you all, sitting around with wrapping paper. The paper was so cherry, all bright red and green. Do you know, it was almost the same shade of green as the killing curse? I saw them hit Weasley -- Ron, and him fall next to you."
The body fell, red hair already looking less bright, like the curse had sucked everything out of him. In a way it had. Weasley landed next to Potter, who jumped up. Draco ran, he ran and ran, mouth opened in a silent scream. He heard someone yell and a thud. He didn't know who was winning, who was dieing. Everything was so painfully loud.
The frosted grass crinkled beneath his feet. Behind him the house lit up in streaks of green. Blindly his fingers landed on a door and he entered the shed at the same time his fellow Death Eaters filed out of the house, their laughter curling in his ears.
One of them yelled a spell he couldn't catch but the side of the house was aflame and the purpose of the spell was obvious. Draco watched the house burn, the fire lick away the outer covering. It danced around, coiling the shingles and reaching for the sky. The frost kept it from spreading through the yard.
Draco fell to the dusty floor and wrapped his arm around his legs.
"And I just sat there and cried, hoping they wouldn't hear me, but I couldn't stop. I just cried like a coward. I didn't help anyone. My father was in that group and he could have died but I was too scared. I just ran." He opened his eyes and looked at Harry. There was a petrified look on Harry's face and he was so far away that he threatened to fall off the bed.
"Fuck, Harry, I didn't want to tell you. See, I need you too. I don't understand it, but I do." Draco reached across the distance and grabbed Harry's hand. Slowly Harry inched closer to Draco until they were holding each other. For some reason Draco felt complied to say something.
"I never needed anyone before. Well, my mother I guess. But I used to love Pansy. I was 'in love' with her, I guess you could say. But I didn't need her, so I left her."
"If you loved her why'd you leave her?" Harry interrupted, kissing Draco's knuckles.
Draco sighed. "Because I didn't need her. Malfoys are supposed to be independent. We don't need anyone. Leaving her proved to me that I can be a Malfoy. Of course, that idea stopped when I ran away from killing. But you I can't leave if I wanted to. I need you, plain and simple. I just don't get it."
Harry wedged a leg between Draco's and peered closely at him. Draco wished he hadn't said anything. He was turning into some sappy sod, but at least Harry's tears had vanished.
"Do you need to know why?" Harry asked, kissing Draco lazily.
"Yes," Draco answered shortly. "How can need be stronger than love?" He bent his head back so he could look at Harry's face without his eyes unfocusing. "Didn't you ever need someone so much that love didn't matter?"
Harry gave a sharp, bitter laugh. "I'm a Gryffindor, Draco. I need love."
Draco pulled the comforters over them. The cool air on his bare back was starting to get to him. Harry shifted so their heads were beside each other on the pillow. For once Draco didn't mind not doing anything but laying next to Harry on Christmas. Besides, someone had to keep Harry from doing any drastic life-threatening activities. He snaked his arms around Harry's neck and kissed his collarbone. "Well, you have it."