(no subject)
I wrote a fic for Hump_day101 challenge. Enjoy, cause I didn't.
Title: For What Potter will Pay
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Warnings I know I said I found a beta. I lied. Anyone want to beta me? Anyways. Dementor attack. Angst.
Words: 850 exactly.
Disclaimer I do not own them. Or anything from the Harry Potter books. I have no intent to make any money from this.
Summery: Draco lists everything Potter would pay for.
For What Potter will Pay
Draco’s father always told him that power was everything. He told him the only way to survive was to latch on to the powerful, and then through them, become powerful yourself. At eleven years, entering Hogwarts Draco saw the Harry Potter as the powerful one. After all, he was a celebrity. Draco knew he himself had money, class, and social status going for him. He was over confidant when he approached Potter. He never expected rejection. He never expected Potter to be with a lowlife life like Weasley. He father had told him about the Weasleys. Draco had never been refused something he wanted before. It crushed him. He decided to hate Potter. This was, as his father said, for the best. All Potter was, was a glorified figurehead. A figure that stood against his father’s-his beliefs. Still, even hatred couldn’t drive out the humiliation Potter had caused him. Potter, you’ll pay for that, he vowed.
It wasn’t just that encounter. Oh no, Draco could make a long list of things Potter would pay for. Their rivalry continued to grow. Draco’s hatred for Potter grew into him. He couldn’t imagine life or himself without it.
Potter always had secrets. He and his sidekicks were always running about the place saving the stupid world time after time. Really, didn’t it ever get old?
Flying was one of Draco’s favorite things, but right in the first year; Potter stole that from him. They boy had never once ridden a broom. Yet, he was good. ‘A natural,’ everyone awed. It was okay Draco convinced himself. He knew he was better than Potter. Potter couldn’t be better than him.
Then he was. Potter would pay for being better than him.
Then later the worst thing happened; the reasons went beyond rivalries, jealously, and hatred. Things became different. Potter would pay for making his breath catch, for distracting him, for making him go crazy over accidental touches, for glares filled with something besides hate, for dreams Draco was sure your worst enemy was not supposed to feature in, for changing everything.
It got weird. Draco’s mother died. His father killed her. Or gave the order. It was the same thing. Draco would pretend not to care. He started to depend on Potter. The stableness and predictability of their insults. Then, after one night, their kisses that allowed all emotions out. It was essential that he be with Potter. There was where he could be so honest, where nothing mattered, but them. Potter would pay for making him need him.
“Draco, I think this is a problem. ‘Cause I think I’m kind of, well, I-I’m in love with… you.” Draco kissed him. Hard. Potter would pay for making him feel.
“Draco-why?” Potter would ask softly, just as he wasn’t expecting it. Every reason Draco struggled to find words for Potter would quickly snuff out with a quiet and quick retort. Potter would pay for making him doubt everything he was. His whole life.
Late in the night fear always took over. Draco would go to Potter drenched in worries.
“It will be okay. I promise,” he would mutter.
“How can you say that? How can you know?”
“Well, ‘cause we’re already so screwed up. We don’t need any more complications. Plus, I love you. That should be enough.”
Draco snorted, “You’re lame.”
Potter rolled his eyes. “I know.”
“I like it,” Draco smiled. Then his reached down and kissed Potter soundly, just to be sure. Potter would pay for making him believe.
The war raged on. It all came down to one moment. Of course Potter came out victorious. Then, just as Potter relaxed, he was taken. Sometimes when it is quiet, Draco can still hear Potter’s screams. Those cries were Potter’s last words.
Draco would go visit Potter at odd hours everyday. Potter was always just sitting in the same chair surrounded by white walls. He seemed out of place in the middle of the crisp and clean room.
He looked exactly the same, except for his eyes. His eyes were the only outward sign it wasn’t Potter. Draco couldn’t bear to look at his eyes anymore.
Draco talked to the other boy. He told him how mad he was. The nurse who came in to feed Potter smiled awkwardly at Draco. Her eyes poured out pity. She looked at him like he was a child, though she hurried out like she was afraid.
The whole time Potter sat staring ahead his mouth hanging open stupidly. Draco reached out and closed his mouth. His thumb lingered on Potter’s cheekbone. He stroked the protruding bone before he could stop himself. He thought he was a flicker of something behind the shield in his eyes. He was probably just imagining it.
Draco left in tears. He didn’t know why he kept coming back to Potter. All it was was torture. He did know one thing. Potter would pay for leaving him, for giving him a useless copy, a soulless creature instead of himself.
Harry-Potter. Potter, Potter would pay for dying.
fin.
Feedback is more than welcome. Writing the ending was hard for me, it kind of disturbed me.
Title: For What Potter will Pay
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Warnings I know I said I found a beta. I lied. Anyone want to beta me? Anyways. Dementor attack. Angst.
Words: 850 exactly.
Disclaimer I do not own them. Or anything from the Harry Potter books. I have no intent to make any money from this.
Summery: Draco lists everything Potter would pay for.
For What Potter will Pay
Draco’s father always told him that power was everything. He told him the only way to survive was to latch on to the powerful, and then through them, become powerful yourself. At eleven years, entering Hogwarts Draco saw the Harry Potter as the powerful one. After all, he was a celebrity. Draco knew he himself had money, class, and social status going for him. He was over confidant when he approached Potter. He never expected rejection. He never expected Potter to be with a lowlife life like Weasley. He father had told him about the Weasleys. Draco had never been refused something he wanted before. It crushed him. He decided to hate Potter. This was, as his father said, for the best. All Potter was, was a glorified figurehead. A figure that stood against his father’s-his beliefs. Still, even hatred couldn’t drive out the humiliation Potter had caused him. Potter, you’ll pay for that, he vowed.
It wasn’t just that encounter. Oh no, Draco could make a long list of things Potter would pay for. Their rivalry continued to grow. Draco’s hatred for Potter grew into him. He couldn’t imagine life or himself without it.
Potter always had secrets. He and his sidekicks were always running about the place saving the stupid world time after time. Really, didn’t it ever get old?
Flying was one of Draco’s favorite things, but right in the first year; Potter stole that from him. They boy had never once ridden a broom. Yet, he was good. ‘A natural,’ everyone awed. It was okay Draco convinced himself. He knew he was better than Potter. Potter couldn’t be better than him.
Then he was. Potter would pay for being better than him.
Then later the worst thing happened; the reasons went beyond rivalries, jealously, and hatred. Things became different. Potter would pay for making his breath catch, for distracting him, for making him go crazy over accidental touches, for glares filled with something besides hate, for dreams Draco was sure your worst enemy was not supposed to feature in, for changing everything.
It got weird. Draco’s mother died. His father killed her. Or gave the order. It was the same thing. Draco would pretend not to care. He started to depend on Potter. The stableness and predictability of their insults. Then, after one night, their kisses that allowed all emotions out. It was essential that he be with Potter. There was where he could be so honest, where nothing mattered, but them. Potter would pay for making him need him.
“Draco, I think this is a problem. ‘Cause I think I’m kind of, well, I-I’m in love with… you.” Draco kissed him. Hard. Potter would pay for making him feel.
“Draco-why?” Potter would ask softly, just as he wasn’t expecting it. Every reason Draco struggled to find words for Potter would quickly snuff out with a quiet and quick retort. Potter would pay for making him doubt everything he was. His whole life.
Late in the night fear always took over. Draco would go to Potter drenched in worries.
“It will be okay. I promise,” he would mutter.
“How can you say that? How can you know?”
“Well, ‘cause we’re already so screwed up. We don’t need any more complications. Plus, I love you. That should be enough.”
Draco snorted, “You’re lame.”
Potter rolled his eyes. “I know.”
“I like it,” Draco smiled. Then his reached down and kissed Potter soundly, just to be sure. Potter would pay for making him believe.
The war raged on. It all came down to one moment. Of course Potter came out victorious. Then, just as Potter relaxed, he was taken. Sometimes when it is quiet, Draco can still hear Potter’s screams. Those cries were Potter’s last words.
Draco would go visit Potter at odd hours everyday. Potter was always just sitting in the same chair surrounded by white walls. He seemed out of place in the middle of the crisp and clean room.
He looked exactly the same, except for his eyes. His eyes were the only outward sign it wasn’t Potter. Draco couldn’t bear to look at his eyes anymore.
Draco talked to the other boy. He told him how mad he was. The nurse who came in to feed Potter smiled awkwardly at Draco. Her eyes poured out pity. She looked at him like he was a child, though she hurried out like she was afraid.
The whole time Potter sat staring ahead his mouth hanging open stupidly. Draco reached out and closed his mouth. His thumb lingered on Potter’s cheekbone. He stroked the protruding bone before he could stop himself. He thought he was a flicker of something behind the shield in his eyes. He was probably just imagining it.
Draco left in tears. He didn’t know why he kept coming back to Potter. All it was was torture. He did know one thing. Potter would pay for leaving him, for giving him a useless copy, a soulless creature instead of himself.
Harry-Potter. Potter, Potter would pay for dying.
fin.
Feedback is more than welcome. Writing the ending was hard for me, it kind of disturbed me.