Fic: A Picnic of Hope
Title: A Picnic of Hope
Author: faeriechii
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 847
Summary: Draco attempts to plan a picnic surprise for Harry, with unhappy results.
Warnings: Keep a box of Kleenex with you. Just in case.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & Co. belong to JK Rowling. Writing is mine.
A/N: Written for slythindor100's Double Entendre Fun - Monday. sassy_cissa gave me picnic for the prompt. Betaed by the wonderful j_folked, who has to put up with reading my angst. (Sorry!) Constructive criticism is very welcome.
That morning, he peered out the window and noted just as the sky began to brighten that it was to be a fine day. He took it as a good omen; he needed to hope. Just once, just this once, things had to go right. It was this hope that got him through the morning of preparation. Harry had already left for work, but that was normal. Normal, he thought as he organised the ingredients together. When did Harry's absence every morning become routine? He couldn't answer that. All he did know was that it wasn't always like this. There had been a time when Harry had made the effort to spend every moment with him. Now, he seemed disinterested and distant. It happened to many couples, people said, everyday becomes routine, and then you fall out of love. But Draco hadn't.
That was why he had woken early to cook all sorts of things that his boyfriend would love. There were freshly baked croissants, sweet and juicy fruit salad, cold turkey sandwiches, a miniature chocolate hazelnut torte, and a bottle of expensive, fancy wine. Draco packed it all into a charming picnic basket, with cooling and heating charms on the proper dishes. From the closet, he fetched a thick, comfortable blanket for them to sit on and folded it carefully to pack away. When he had everything, he headed out to the park they were supposed to meet at and hoped that Harry would be there.
Harry had to be there, for it was their anniversary, and he couldn't have forgotten, could he? Draco remembered telling him to meet at the park - it was their favourite place - so that they could have lunch together. And how had Harry responded? That was a bit vague in his mind. It had been late when Harry returned home the night before, and Draco had already been asleep. But if he thought hard enough, he could have sworn that Harry had mumbled an affirmative that he would be there. So the blond hurried up the grassy hill to set up a delightful scene for his love.
The gentle breeze that had tickled the tops of trees and danced among the leaves that morning had turned into a gusty, unforgiving wind. Draco barely cast a protective charm before their green and grey checkered blanket blew away. There was nothing a good charm couldn't fix. He set the basket upon the blanket and adjusted a brightly coloured rose in its vase. This he placed in the centre of the blanket with satisfaction. He still remembered the first time Harry had shyly offered him a fiery orange rose, saying how it matched the blond's temperament. At the time, he hadn't been sure whether to be offended or amused by the sentiment, but now he looked back upon the memory fondly. He couldn't remember the last time Harry had surprised him with small gestures.
Draco glanced at his pocket watch; Harry should be there any moment. A quick glance around the park told him no one was in sight. But he was a wizard, he could just Apparate. The blond relaxed just slightly. It was difficult to, with the wind pounding against the magical barrier, which was protecting everything for their planned picnic. It was difficult to, with the wind carrying dark, suspicious clouds along with it. It was difficult to, with the minutes ticking away loudly on his pocket watch. Tick! Tick! Tick! And still no Harry. There was a rumble in the sky, one that was deep and angry. Draco pretended not to hear it. The sky began to darken before a flash illuminated the darkness. Draco pretended not to see it. It would be a perfect day for a perfect picnic. But still no Harry.
But Draco had hope. He clung onto that bit of thought that everything would turn out okay, and he waited. There was a soft pitter patter as raindrops began to fall. The pitter patter grew louder and heavier until he looked up in horror. He had not cast a charm to protect the picnic against the rain. The rain in all its glory was soaking everything through, mussing his neatly combed hair and ruining his silk robes. But still no Harry. A scornful hoot caught the blond's attention and in swooped a magnificent white owl: Hedwig.
Draco, the short note read, I'll be working late again tonight so don't wait up. Love, Harry.
He didn't remember. He forgot. With a heavy heart and a heavy basket, Draco cleaned up his things and headed home. Home was a dark, cold, and empty place, but it was the only place he could go to. After a hot shower that hardly took away the chill from his heart, the blond slipped into bed, staring into the darkness at the ceiling. Maybe the people were right. Maybe love couldn't be rekindled with hopes and dreams. Outside, the rain came down heavier than ever making things dreary and wet. It was much the same inside. And still, there was no Harry.
Author: faeriechii
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 847
Summary: Draco attempts to plan a picnic surprise for Harry, with unhappy results.
Warnings: Keep a box of Kleenex with you. Just in case.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & Co. belong to JK Rowling. Writing is mine.
A/N: Written for slythindor100's Double Entendre Fun - Monday. sassy_cissa gave me picnic for the prompt. Betaed by the wonderful j_folked, who has to put up with reading my angst. (Sorry!) Constructive criticism is very welcome.
That morning, he peered out the window and noted just as the sky began to brighten that it was to be a fine day. He took it as a good omen; he needed to hope. Just once, just this once, things had to go right. It was this hope that got him through the morning of preparation. Harry had already left for work, but that was normal. Normal, he thought as he organised the ingredients together. When did Harry's absence every morning become routine? He couldn't answer that. All he did know was that it wasn't always like this. There had been a time when Harry had made the effort to spend every moment with him. Now, he seemed disinterested and distant. It happened to many couples, people said, everyday becomes routine, and then you fall out of love. But Draco hadn't.
That was why he had woken early to cook all sorts of things that his boyfriend would love. There were freshly baked croissants, sweet and juicy fruit salad, cold turkey sandwiches, a miniature chocolate hazelnut torte, and a bottle of expensive, fancy wine. Draco packed it all into a charming picnic basket, with cooling and heating charms on the proper dishes. From the closet, he fetched a thick, comfortable blanket for them to sit on and folded it carefully to pack away. When he had everything, he headed out to the park they were supposed to meet at and hoped that Harry would be there.
Harry had to be there, for it was their anniversary, and he couldn't have forgotten, could he? Draco remembered telling him to meet at the park - it was their favourite place - so that they could have lunch together. And how had Harry responded? That was a bit vague in his mind. It had been late when Harry returned home the night before, and Draco had already been asleep. But if he thought hard enough, he could have sworn that Harry had mumbled an affirmative that he would be there. So the blond hurried up the grassy hill to set up a delightful scene for his love.
The gentle breeze that had tickled the tops of trees and danced among the leaves that morning had turned into a gusty, unforgiving wind. Draco barely cast a protective charm before their green and grey checkered blanket blew away. There was nothing a good charm couldn't fix. He set the basket upon the blanket and adjusted a brightly coloured rose in its vase. This he placed in the centre of the blanket with satisfaction. He still remembered the first time Harry had shyly offered him a fiery orange rose, saying how it matched the blond's temperament. At the time, he hadn't been sure whether to be offended or amused by the sentiment, but now he looked back upon the memory fondly. He couldn't remember the last time Harry had surprised him with small gestures.
Draco glanced at his pocket watch; Harry should be there any moment. A quick glance around the park told him no one was in sight. But he was a wizard, he could just Apparate. The blond relaxed just slightly. It was difficult to, with the wind pounding against the magical barrier, which was protecting everything for their planned picnic. It was difficult to, with the wind carrying dark, suspicious clouds along with it. It was difficult to, with the minutes ticking away loudly on his pocket watch. Tick! Tick! Tick! And still no Harry. There was a rumble in the sky, one that was deep and angry. Draco pretended not to hear it. The sky began to darken before a flash illuminated the darkness. Draco pretended not to see it. It would be a perfect day for a perfect picnic. But still no Harry.
But Draco had hope. He clung onto that bit of thought that everything would turn out okay, and he waited. There was a soft pitter patter as raindrops began to fall. The pitter patter grew louder and heavier until he looked up in horror. He had not cast a charm to protect the picnic against the rain. The rain in all its glory was soaking everything through, mussing his neatly combed hair and ruining his silk robes. But still no Harry. A scornful hoot caught the blond's attention and in swooped a magnificent white owl: Hedwig.
Draco, the short note read, I'll be working late again tonight so don't wait up. Love, Harry.
He didn't remember. He forgot. With a heavy heart and a heavy basket, Draco cleaned up his things and headed home. Home was a dark, cold, and empty place, but it was the only place he could go to. After a hot shower that hardly took away the chill from his heart, the blond slipped into bed, staring into the darkness at the ceiling. Maybe the people were right. Maybe love couldn't be rekindled with hopes and dreams. Outside, the rain came down heavier than ever making things dreary and wet. It was much the same inside. And still, there was no Harry.