Once a Beautiful Sanctuary, for lia_clarissima
Title: Once a Beautiful Sanctuary
Author: enchanted_jae
Rating: PG
Warning(s): "Off-screen" character death (not Harry or Draco), angst
Word Count: 855
Challenge:
- Recipient: lia_clarissima
- Keywords: haunted, isolation, fingers
- Dialogue: "This is the echoing silence of loneliness."
Summary: Harry is concerned for his colleague and goes to Malfoy Manor in search of Draco.
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al.
Harry hadn't worried about Draco Malfoy in nearly three years, when he had gone on trial with his parents following the war. At that time, Harry had been compelled to speak on behalf of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Draco had been spared Azkaban, but Narcissa had been sentenced to five years in the harsh prison. No one had been surprised when Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced for life.
Four days ago, The Daily Prophet had carried news of Narcissa Malfoy's passing. She had grown wan and weak in Azkaban and had succumbed to illness. No one had seen Draco Malfoy since the memorial service.
Harry knew that Draco was devoted to his mother and would be taking Narcissa's death hard. He had gotten to know Malfoy better when they both began working at the Ministry. Harry had become an Auror, to no one's surprise, and Draco had found employment as an undersecretary in the Department of Magical Potions. Their paths crossed from time to time, and Harry had discovered that Malfoy had matured and become quite likable. In fact, he had come to find himself rather attracted to Draco, but he had yet to pluck up the nerve to ask him out.
Harry circled Malfoy Manor on his broom before descending and landing at the foot of the steps that led to the imposing front door. He climbed the steps and propped his broom against one of the massive pillars that supported the overhanging roof. He gripped the doorknocker in the shape of a coiled serpent and rapped on the door. It was answered by a timid house-elf. "Harry Potter, here to see Draco Malfoy," Harry announced in his most authoritative voice.
"Mister Malfoy is not wanting visitors, Mister Harry Potter, sir," the elf squeaked, tugging her ears nervously.
"What is your name?" Harry asked her.
"P-Poopsie, Mister Harry Potter, sir," she quavered.
Harry smiled at her. "Poopsie, I am concerned for Draco, and I wish to be sure he's okay. You want to make certain of that, too, don't you?" Poopsie's eyes bulged as she gulped, but she nodded. "Please allow me to make certain Draco is alright," Harry pressed.
Poopsie moved back and opened the door wide, wringing her hands in anxiety. "Mister Draco Malfoy is being in the gardens, sir." She indicated which direction Harry should take, and he nodded and thanked her.
Harry stepped into the gardens and looked around for Draco. Not seeing his coworker at first, he wandered farther into what was once a beautiful sanctuary. Now, the bushes were stark and bare, and the grass was withered. There hadn't been frost yet this year, which could only mean the gardens were suffering from neglect. It was quiet in an almost eerie manner. No birds chirped nor insects buzzed, making the isolation seem absolute. "This is the echoing silence of loneliness," Harry whispered to himself. His voice sounded loud in the unnatural stillness.
Concerned now more than ever for Malfoy, Harry hurried along the most well-worn path in search of his colleague. He found Draco seated on a wooden bench in front of a marble fountain. The water was brackish, and only a thin trickle oozed from the conch shell that a beautifully carved mermaid was holding aloft in the center of the fountain.
"Draco," Harry called softly. His heart clenched when haunted gray eyes turned to him. "I-I'm sorry about your mother," he offered.
"Thank you, Potter," Malfoy mumbled, his head drooping once more. "Now please leave."
Harry remained where he was, studying the other man. Draco's normally bright hair was lank and lifeless, and Harry wondered if he'd bothered to wash or even eat since his mother's passing. Firming his resolve, he strode forward and sat on the bench next to Malfoy. As he scrambled for something to say, Draco spoke.
"What will I do without her?" He brought his hands up to cover his face, and his shoulders shook slightly.
Without thinking, Harry scooted closer and slung an arm around Draco's shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze.
"I couldn't wait for her to come home," Draco continued, words as dull and flat as his hair, "and now...now she's not going to come ho-ome." His voice broke on the last syllable, and Harry wrapped his other arm around Draco and pressed Draco's head to his shoulder, letting him cry it out.
When Draco had subsided into an occasional hiccup, he sat back and swiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I don't know what to do," he whispered, clenching his hands in his lap.
"You'll manage," Harry soothed. He reached for one of Draco's hands and entwined their fingers loosely together, encouraged when he felt Draco grip his hand tightly as if afraid to let go. "You're not alone, Draco," stated Harry. "I'll be here for you."
Author: enchanted_jae
Rating: PG
Warning(s): "Off-screen" character death (not Harry or Draco), angst
Word Count: 855
Challenge:
- Recipient: lia_clarissima
- Keywords: haunted, isolation, fingers
- Dialogue: "This is the echoing silence of loneliness."
Summary: Harry is concerned for his colleague and goes to Malfoy Manor in search of Draco.
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al.
Harry hadn't worried about Draco Malfoy in nearly three years, when he had gone on trial with his parents following the war. At that time, Harry had been compelled to speak on behalf of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Draco had been spared Azkaban, but Narcissa had been sentenced to five years in the harsh prison. No one had been surprised when Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced for life.
Four days ago, The Daily Prophet had carried news of Narcissa Malfoy's passing. She had grown wan and weak in Azkaban and had succumbed to illness. No one had seen Draco Malfoy since the memorial service.
Harry knew that Draco was devoted to his mother and would be taking Narcissa's death hard. He had gotten to know Malfoy better when they both began working at the Ministry. Harry had become an Auror, to no one's surprise, and Draco had found employment as an undersecretary in the Department of Magical Potions. Their paths crossed from time to time, and Harry had discovered that Malfoy had matured and become quite likable. In fact, he had come to find himself rather attracted to Draco, but he had yet to pluck up the nerve to ask him out.
Harry circled Malfoy Manor on his broom before descending and landing at the foot of the steps that led to the imposing front door. He climbed the steps and propped his broom against one of the massive pillars that supported the overhanging roof. He gripped the doorknocker in the shape of a coiled serpent and rapped on the door. It was answered by a timid house-elf. "Harry Potter, here to see Draco Malfoy," Harry announced in his most authoritative voice.
"Mister Malfoy is not wanting visitors, Mister Harry Potter, sir," the elf squeaked, tugging her ears nervously.
"What is your name?" Harry asked her.
"P-Poopsie, Mister Harry Potter, sir," she quavered.
Harry smiled at her. "Poopsie, I am concerned for Draco, and I wish to be sure he's okay. You want to make certain of that, too, don't you?" Poopsie's eyes bulged as she gulped, but she nodded. "Please allow me to make certain Draco is alright," Harry pressed.
Poopsie moved back and opened the door wide, wringing her hands in anxiety. "Mister Draco Malfoy is being in the gardens, sir." She indicated which direction Harry should take, and he nodded and thanked her.
Harry stepped into the gardens and looked around for Draco. Not seeing his coworker at first, he wandered farther into what was once a beautiful sanctuary. Now, the bushes were stark and bare, and the grass was withered. There hadn't been frost yet this year, which could only mean the gardens were suffering from neglect. It was quiet in an almost eerie manner. No birds chirped nor insects buzzed, making the isolation seem absolute. "This is the echoing silence of loneliness," Harry whispered to himself. His voice sounded loud in the unnatural stillness.
Concerned now more than ever for Malfoy, Harry hurried along the most well-worn path in search of his colleague. He found Draco seated on a wooden bench in front of a marble fountain. The water was brackish, and only a thin trickle oozed from the conch shell that a beautifully carved mermaid was holding aloft in the center of the fountain.
"Draco," Harry called softly. His heart clenched when haunted gray eyes turned to him. "I-I'm sorry about your mother," he offered.
"Thank you, Potter," Malfoy mumbled, his head drooping once more. "Now please leave."
Harry remained where he was, studying the other man. Draco's normally bright hair was lank and lifeless, and Harry wondered if he'd bothered to wash or even eat since his mother's passing. Firming his resolve, he strode forward and sat on the bench next to Malfoy. As he scrambled for something to say, Draco spoke.
"What will I do without her?" He brought his hands up to cover his face, and his shoulders shook slightly.
Without thinking, Harry scooted closer and slung an arm around Draco's shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze.
"I couldn't wait for her to come home," Draco continued, words as dull and flat as his hair, "and now...now she's not going to come ho-ome." His voice broke on the last syllable, and Harry wrapped his other arm around Draco and pressed Draco's head to his shoulder, letting him cry it out.
When Draco had subsided into an occasional hiccup, he sat back and swiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I don't know what to do," he whispered, clenching his hands in his lap.
"You'll manage," Harry soothed. He reached for one of Draco's hands and entwined their fingers loosely together, encouraged when he felt Draco grip his hand tightly as if afraid to let go. "You're not alone, Draco," stated Harry. "I'll be here for you."