Fic rec: Seasonal Processions by Lomonaaeren
Hi -- I'm back, bringing you not just one fic, but a whole series! No rec list ought to be complete without at least something by Lomonaaeren, and with 418 posted fics (not counting her WIPs), it's hard to choose just one. So I've settled on this series of eight shortish fics that go from first date to wedding, changing POV from Harry to Draco and back as the story demands.
Title: Seasonal Processions (link goes to AO3, but all fics can also be found at Fanfiction.net and at lomonaaeren's LJ.)
Author: Lomonaaeren
Rating: PG to NC-17
Word Count: 29317 altogether
Warnings: switching, rituals, mild prejudice
Summary: A series of fluffy fics, one for each of the neopagan holidays, beginning with Ostara. Harry and Draco draw closer together, and eventually wed. (as given by the author)
Set an indeterminate number of years after the fall of Voldemort, Harry is an Auror and Draco - bereft of family, friends, home and fortune - works in an obscure Ministry department. They literally run into each other one day, and things progress from there, measured by the sequence of holidays mentioned above.
Why I loved it:
I'm a sucker for pureblood traditions, and while they're not the focus of this series, they play an important part, both in how Draco deals with his and Harry's relationship, and how Harry trusts him to find his way.
I like that Draco, while almost destitute, still has his pride and keeps plugging on with his life … and that for once, Harry is being very proactive about their relationship. It's Harry who makes the first move, Harry who notices the subtle (and not-so-subtle) slurs against Draco, and decides to take steps. Draco is often prickly and insecure, in contrast to Harry's rather calm and measured ways, but it works within the dynamic between them.
Draco uses his family's holiday rituals to measure what's happening between them, and Lomonaaeren has created (I'm assuming) some beautiful traditions for that. There's not much of a supporting cast, but Ron/Hermione make an appearance; so do the Weasleys, Kingsley and Luna. In the end, not everything around them has turned positive, but their relationship is solid, strong and filled with hope.
(For those who care about it, it starts with bottom!Draco -- and I very much get that vibe throughout -- but has switching later on, both done in beautiful, HOT detail. :-P)
Excerpt(optional):
Most of July had been stormy, but the last three days had been perfect, Draco thought: close and hot and golden. When he looked up from his work, he saw the enchanted window in his office, gazing straight at the view he had chosen weeks ago. The cornfield in the window swayed back and forth, the corn full and heavy, the wind visible in the way it ruffled their sheaves.
Draco could feel his body settling and changing and ripening with the weather, with the world, spinning towards an inevitable conclusion.
He thought he knew what that conclusion was, but he didn’t rush or hurry it, letting it rise from the depths of his mind on its own. His family didn’t have as close a connection with the old holiday of Lughnasadh as with Beltane, or as many private ceremonies, but Draco thought he would know by then.
And he did. He knew, actually, when the sun rose on the thirty-first of July, the birthday of Harry Potter, his boyfriend and his lover, but he ignored the conclusion for the moment and simply gave Harry a book on elementary potions knowledge and a set of pale grey robes for his birthday. He would put his decision into action tomorrow.
Some traditions should be kept.
*
Draco knocked on Harry’s door promptly at sunrise, and grinned at the lingering yawn that came from the direction of the bedroom. Harry had asked for the thirty-first and then the first of August as holidays-a good decision, given the way the party with the Weasleys had gone and then the private party he and Draco had had when they got back to his house. Draco had taken the day off as well.
It was the first of August, the traditional date for Lughnasadh, and time for him to make his decision real.
Harry took ten minutes to come to the door. Draco helpfully started every minute with a knock, and then celebrated the ninth with such a storm of pounding that he could barely hear Harry’s curses before he actually arrived. He jumped back just in time when Harry swung the door open and glared at him through sleep-glazed eyes.
Draco felt his mouth become dryer than it already was. Harry hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. His chest was brilliant with the flush of sleep, he was breathing shallowly, and Draco could see almost every dark hair.
He lifted his eyes to Harry’s face, and waited patiently for him to recognize who was here and how unusual it was for Draco to come somewhere on his own, without Harry having to coax him along first. Draco had been ignored and stepped on for years by the victorious anti-purebloods. It had taken Harry to give him back his strength and confidence, and since they had officially become lovers on Midsummer’s Eve, this was the first time Draco had tried to initiate anything.
It takes time, he thought defensively to silence the derisive chuckle in the back of his head. He could conjure up the chuckle all too easily now, given how many times he had heard it over the years. He carried his enemies’ voices around with him, while he sincerely doubted they ever heard his.
“Draco?” Harry murmured. “Is something wrong?”
Draco shook his head and leaned forwards for a kiss, though he prudently cast a Breath-Sweetening Charm first. Harry responded enthusiastically to that, at least, fisting his hands in Draco’s hair and robes. Draco broke away before the fragile thing he held crumbled and held it up so that Harry could see it.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
Harry still had trouble focusing his eyes, and Draco proudly imagined that that was partially because of the kiss, rather than just because of sleep. “It looks like a little man made out of bread,” Harry said at last, his voice confused.
Draco nodded and grabbed his hand. “Exactly. This is Lughnasadh, and we’re going to fulfill tradition.”
“By-baking people?” Harry sounded cautious.
Draco laughed, and stopped when he heard the laughter getting shrill. He would lose his nerve and bolt if he wasn’t careful. But no, he wanted this. What he needed was just to make sure that he controlled the exchange as much as possible, and that Harry did what Draco directed him to. That would soothe his fear about surrendering control and then once again being spurned and mocked.
“No,” he said, and tugged on Harry’s hand. “Come on.”
Title: Seasonal Processions (link goes to AO3, but all fics can also be found at Fanfiction.net and at lomonaaeren's LJ.)
Author: Lomonaaeren
Rating: PG to NC-17
Word Count: 29317 altogether
Warnings: switching, rituals, mild prejudice
Summary: A series of fluffy fics, one for each of the neopagan holidays, beginning with Ostara. Harry and Draco draw closer together, and eventually wed. (as given by the author)
Set an indeterminate number of years after the fall of Voldemort, Harry is an Auror and Draco - bereft of family, friends, home and fortune - works in an obscure Ministry department. They literally run into each other one day, and things progress from there, measured by the sequence of holidays mentioned above.
Why I loved it:
I'm a sucker for pureblood traditions, and while they're not the focus of this series, they play an important part, both in how Draco deals with his and Harry's relationship, and how Harry trusts him to find his way.
I like that Draco, while almost destitute, still has his pride and keeps plugging on with his life … and that for once, Harry is being very proactive about their relationship. It's Harry who makes the first move, Harry who notices the subtle (and not-so-subtle) slurs against Draco, and decides to take steps. Draco is often prickly and insecure, in contrast to Harry's rather calm and measured ways, but it works within the dynamic between them.
Draco uses his family's holiday rituals to measure what's happening between them, and Lomonaaeren has created (I'm assuming) some beautiful traditions for that. There's not much of a supporting cast, but Ron/Hermione make an appearance; so do the Weasleys, Kingsley and Luna. In the end, not everything around them has turned positive, but their relationship is solid, strong and filled with hope.
(For those who care about it, it starts with bottom!Draco -- and I very much get that vibe throughout -- but has switching later on, both done in beautiful, HOT detail. :-P)
Excerpt(optional):
Most of July had been stormy, but the last three days had been perfect, Draco thought: close and hot and golden. When he looked up from his work, he saw the enchanted window in his office, gazing straight at the view he had chosen weeks ago. The cornfield in the window swayed back and forth, the corn full and heavy, the wind visible in the way it ruffled their sheaves.
Draco could feel his body settling and changing and ripening with the weather, with the world, spinning towards an inevitable conclusion.
He thought he knew what that conclusion was, but he didn’t rush or hurry it, letting it rise from the depths of his mind on its own. His family didn’t have as close a connection with the old holiday of Lughnasadh as with Beltane, or as many private ceremonies, but Draco thought he would know by then.
And he did. He knew, actually, when the sun rose on the thirty-first of July, the birthday of Harry Potter, his boyfriend and his lover, but he ignored the conclusion for the moment and simply gave Harry a book on elementary potions knowledge and a set of pale grey robes for his birthday. He would put his decision into action tomorrow.
Some traditions should be kept.
*
Draco knocked on Harry’s door promptly at sunrise, and grinned at the lingering yawn that came from the direction of the bedroom. Harry had asked for the thirty-first and then the first of August as holidays-a good decision, given the way the party with the Weasleys had gone and then the private party he and Draco had had when they got back to his house. Draco had taken the day off as well.
It was the first of August, the traditional date for Lughnasadh, and time for him to make his decision real.
Harry took ten minutes to come to the door. Draco helpfully started every minute with a knock, and then celebrated the ninth with such a storm of pounding that he could barely hear Harry’s curses before he actually arrived. He jumped back just in time when Harry swung the door open and glared at him through sleep-glazed eyes.
Draco felt his mouth become dryer than it already was. Harry hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. His chest was brilliant with the flush of sleep, he was breathing shallowly, and Draco could see almost every dark hair.
He lifted his eyes to Harry’s face, and waited patiently for him to recognize who was here and how unusual it was for Draco to come somewhere on his own, without Harry having to coax him along first. Draco had been ignored and stepped on for years by the victorious anti-purebloods. It had taken Harry to give him back his strength and confidence, and since they had officially become lovers on Midsummer’s Eve, this was the first time Draco had tried to initiate anything.
It takes time, he thought defensively to silence the derisive chuckle in the back of his head. He could conjure up the chuckle all too easily now, given how many times he had heard it over the years. He carried his enemies’ voices around with him, while he sincerely doubted they ever heard his.
“Draco?” Harry murmured. “Is something wrong?”
Draco shook his head and leaned forwards for a kiss, though he prudently cast a Breath-Sweetening Charm first. Harry responded enthusiastically to that, at least, fisting his hands in Draco’s hair and robes. Draco broke away before the fragile thing he held crumbled and held it up so that Harry could see it.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
Harry still had trouble focusing his eyes, and Draco proudly imagined that that was partially because of the kiss, rather than just because of sleep. “It looks like a little man made out of bread,” Harry said at last, his voice confused.
Draco nodded and grabbed his hand. “Exactly. This is Lughnasadh, and we’re going to fulfill tradition.”
“By-baking people?” Harry sounded cautious.
Draco laughed, and stopped when he heard the laughter getting shrill. He would lose his nerve and bolt if he wasn’t careful. But no, he wanted this. What he needed was just to make sure that he controlled the exchange as much as possible, and that Harry did what Draco directed him to. That would soothe his fear about surrendering control and then once again being spurned and mocked.
“No,” he said, and tugged on Harry’s hand. “Come on.”