(drabble) the good night key
Title: The Good Night Key
Author: savepureness
Rating: G
Word Count: 279
Notes/Warning: Written for the Valentine's Day 2010 Challenge - Prompt #7: Goodnight Kiss.
Things look different after dark. They seem to grow into larger, overwhelming shapes, or to crawl out of sight and into the shadows. Sounds occur more often and they build a whole world of suppositions, of doubts. It rather lives inside, and not outside him. 'Tis a shame. He tried to get rid of it. There were potions - some of them strong, making his head swirl, giving him brief hallucinations; and there were charms. Nothing really helped.
Draco Malfoy is still afraid of the dark. Well past twenty as he might be, keeping the bed lamp on has become a steady habit. Or had become, until the night when things started to change; slowly; smoothly.
She helped up with the brewing of potions, at the beginning. That was when he had noticed Hermione Granger always did things by the book. He loved - still loves - the times she doesn't. They're moments to be treasured, locked away in memory snippets he could revive when in need.
She also helped up with the charms; now at those, she was good. It wasn't the key, though. It keeps not being the key.
"I thought we were going to sleep."
Hermione leans on. She looks tired. Her eyelids are shadowed.
"We are. Come here."
She nods once and crawls by his side. Sighing at the relief of finally laying down, she stretches lazily, then turns and props her head on his shoulder. One thin arm wraps his chest. Hermione pushes herself closer, and kisses him lightly on the cheek.
"Good night, Draco."
He whispers a word and the bed lamp goes off.
It took them a while, but now they do possess the key.
Author: savepureness
Rating: G
Word Count: 279
Notes/Warning: Written for the Valentine's Day 2010 Challenge - Prompt #7: Goodnight Kiss.
Things look different after dark. They seem to grow into larger, overwhelming shapes, or to crawl out of sight and into the shadows. Sounds occur more often and they build a whole world of suppositions, of doubts. It rather lives inside, and not outside him. 'Tis a shame. He tried to get rid of it. There were potions - some of them strong, making his head swirl, giving him brief hallucinations; and there were charms. Nothing really helped.
Draco Malfoy is still afraid of the dark. Well past twenty as he might be, keeping the bed lamp on has become a steady habit. Or had become, until the night when things started to change; slowly; smoothly.
She helped up with the brewing of potions, at the beginning. That was when he had noticed Hermione Granger always did things by the book. He loved - still loves - the times she doesn't. They're moments to be treasured, locked away in memory snippets he could revive when in need.
She also helped up with the charms; now at those, she was good. It wasn't the key, though. It keeps not being the key.
"I thought we were going to sleep."
Hermione leans on. She looks tired. Her eyelids are shadowed.
"We are. Come here."
She nods once and crawls by his side. Sighing at the relief of finally laying down, she stretches lazily, then turns and props her head on his shoulder. One thin arm wraps his chest. Hermione pushes herself closer, and kisses him lightly on the cheek.
"Good night, Draco."
He whispers a word and the bed lamp goes off.
It took them a while, but now they do possess the key.