1 Fic; No Challenge
Title: Not Okay
Summary: "I don't know if you've noticed, Potter, but we're in the middle of a battle, in the middle of a war that is bigger than us. It's bigger than even you, Saviour of the Wizarding World."
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Draco, Hints of H/D.
Genre: Angst
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, slight bending of canon.
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1191
Draco shivered as he stood in the empty corridor. The walls had crumbled around him, leaving him open to the air and to anyone who felt the need to curse him. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone felt the need to curse him, after everything.
He couldn't hear anything, but he knew he should. He knew there should be cries and screams and chaos but there was nothing. He could barely hear his own breath, which he knew was coming in short and shallow gasps.
He could feel his legs shaking, he knew they were going to give out on him soon enough and stuck an arm out. He held onto the wall, hoping for that familiar comfort Hogwarts usually gave him, but there was nothing this time. All there was cold stone, crumbling beneath the gentle touch of his fingertips. His stomach shuddered, and his breath caught in his breath.
"Malfoy?" He looked up. At the end of the hallway stood Potter. He was bleeding from a cut above his eyebrow, but he didn't seem to have even noticed. "What are you doing here?" Draco shook his head. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, trying to stop the way his breath grated at his throat, trying to will away the burn in his eyes. "Malfoy?" Potter repeated. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"What does it matter?" Draco managed to say. He didn't know if Potter even heard, it felt like he was talking around a mouth full of cotton. "Who cares if I'm hurt or not?" He saw Potter's face change, for the slightest of moments. It reminded him of before, before all of this, when the worst thing Draco could think of was losing the Quidditch cup to a speccy git and Gryffindor. It disappeared too quickly. It was back to that concern and pity he didn't want to see it, especially not on Harry Potter's smug face.
"You're not on..." Potter hesitated. Draco shut his eyes. "Their side. You're not on their side any more."
"So?" He felt his knees give out. His body dragged against the wall, the stone scraped at his skin, and he felt the sting. He kept his eyes closed, even as he heard Potter's footsteps echo closer and felt the shift in the air.
"Malfoy, you're not okay." He tried to laugh at that, but it sounded and felt too much like sobbing. His chest bucked and his head tipped back, thudding against the wall.
"Of course I'm not okay," He said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "How can anyone be okay?" He opened his eyes at that. Potter was staring at him. Draco's face was reflected in Potter's glasses, but he could still see that stupid deep green behind them.
"You have to have hope, Malfoy," Potter said. He kneeled down in front of Draco, who laughed again. Potter's expression didn't change at all; it was still the same earnest, serious expression. Draco had seen it before, when Potter was trying to convince people of something or other, but it had never been aimed at him. Draco shook his head and closed his eyes again.
"What have I got to hope for?" Potter said nothing. "I don't know if you've noticed, Potter, but we're in the middle of a battle, in the middle of a war that is bigger than us. It's bigger than even you, Saviour of the Wizarding World, and my parents might be dead." He shut his mouth with a hard crack of teeth as soon as he realized what he'd said. There were hundreds of things he was, hundreds of things people could accuse him of being, but stupid had never been one of them before. Mistaken, lost, confused...but never truly stupid. He knew what a bad move saying that had been.
He kept his mouth shut.
"Malfoy." Draco ignored him. "Malfoy, look at me." Draco inhaled deeply. He let the long intake of breath calm his racing heart, took the chance to relax, and then he opened his eyes. "Look, I think...we should put all this behind us. When this over we can go back to hating each other, but for now, can we just...get over it? For five minutes?" Potter was staring at him with that heartfelt expression again. It was all wide eyed, and not that innocent. He was still balancing on the balls of his feet.
"Fine. But you're still a speccy git."
"Of course." Potter nodded at that, and finally sat down. He scooted around Draco until they sat side by side, backs against the wall. It was so familiar, so simple. It was almost easy to forget where they were. Why they were there.
"Shouldn't you be off fighting, or something?" Draco asked. He stared at his hands. There was blood under his nails. He took a deep breath again. Tried to remind himself to actually breath. The word hope seemed seared into his brain.
"I needed some time." Draco looked up. Harry - when had he become Harry? - was staring at the wall. His eyes were hard, cold. It was expression Draco had seen so many times before. It was the expression of someone who knew they faced something terrifying.
"Why?" He asked. The question was loaded. The unspoken parts hung between them. Why had this all happened? Why was Potter the one who had to end it? Why did it have to end today? Why, why, why?
"To prepare myself. I could go out there and...I can either kill someone, or be killed by them. Kill or be killed. I always thought that was something that applied to lions." Potter was still staring at the wall. Draco could see his hands shaking. Potter was scared. Stupid, brave, Gryffindor Potter was terrified. A year ago, a month ago, Draco would have mocked him for that. Now, he just realized they weren't as different as he'd pretended for so long.
"You Know Who isn't a someone." He reached out to touch Potter, to lay a comforting hand on his knee, but his hand hovered between them. Potter glanced at it, just for a moment, before looking back to the wall.
"Still." It started to rain. Draco could feel the tiny prickles of rain against his skin. It was just drizzling. It was, he thought, oddly appropriate; like a scene from a book. "I don't want to be a killer, Malfoy."
"I know." Draco didn't hesitate this time. He reached those final few centimetres and took Potter's hand. Neither of them looked at the other. "You don't have to do this. You can do it next week, or next month, or even next year."
"I do." It was a simple phrase, but it felt heavy. It hung in the air. It rang in Draco's ears. It had to be today. It was time.
Potter let go.
Emily//Gryff//40 points
Summary: "I don't know if you've noticed, Potter, but we're in the middle of a battle, in the middle of a war that is bigger than us. It's bigger than even you, Saviour of the Wizarding World."
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Draco, Hints of H/D.
Genre: Angst
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, slight bending of canon.
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1191
Draco shivered as he stood in the empty corridor. The walls had crumbled around him, leaving him open to the air and to anyone who felt the need to curse him. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone felt the need to curse him, after everything.
He couldn't hear anything, but he knew he should. He knew there should be cries and screams and chaos but there was nothing. He could barely hear his own breath, which he knew was coming in short and shallow gasps.
He could feel his legs shaking, he knew they were going to give out on him soon enough and stuck an arm out. He held onto the wall, hoping for that familiar comfort Hogwarts usually gave him, but there was nothing this time. All there was cold stone, crumbling beneath the gentle touch of his fingertips. His stomach shuddered, and his breath caught in his breath.
"Malfoy?" He looked up. At the end of the hallway stood Potter. He was bleeding from a cut above his eyebrow, but he didn't seem to have even noticed. "What are you doing here?" Draco shook his head. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, trying to stop the way his breath grated at his throat, trying to will away the burn in his eyes. "Malfoy?" Potter repeated. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"What does it matter?" Draco managed to say. He didn't know if Potter even heard, it felt like he was talking around a mouth full of cotton. "Who cares if I'm hurt or not?" He saw Potter's face change, for the slightest of moments. It reminded him of before, before all of this, when the worst thing Draco could think of was losing the Quidditch cup to a speccy git and Gryffindor. It disappeared too quickly. It was back to that concern and pity he didn't want to see it, especially not on Harry Potter's smug face.
"You're not on..." Potter hesitated. Draco shut his eyes. "Their side. You're not on their side any more."
"So?" He felt his knees give out. His body dragged against the wall, the stone scraped at his skin, and he felt the sting. He kept his eyes closed, even as he heard Potter's footsteps echo closer and felt the shift in the air.
"Malfoy, you're not okay." He tried to laugh at that, but it sounded and felt too much like sobbing. His chest bucked and his head tipped back, thudding against the wall.
"Of course I'm not okay," He said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "How can anyone be okay?" He opened his eyes at that. Potter was staring at him. Draco's face was reflected in Potter's glasses, but he could still see that stupid deep green behind them.
"You have to have hope, Malfoy," Potter said. He kneeled down in front of Draco, who laughed again. Potter's expression didn't change at all; it was still the same earnest, serious expression. Draco had seen it before, when Potter was trying to convince people of something or other, but it had never been aimed at him. Draco shook his head and closed his eyes again.
"What have I got to hope for?" Potter said nothing. "I don't know if you've noticed, Potter, but we're in the middle of a battle, in the middle of a war that is bigger than us. It's bigger than even you, Saviour of the Wizarding World, and my parents might be dead." He shut his mouth with a hard crack of teeth as soon as he realized what he'd said. There were hundreds of things he was, hundreds of things people could accuse him of being, but stupid had never been one of them before. Mistaken, lost, confused...but never truly stupid. He knew what a bad move saying that had been.
He kept his mouth shut.
"Malfoy." Draco ignored him. "Malfoy, look at me." Draco inhaled deeply. He let the long intake of breath calm his racing heart, took the chance to relax, and then he opened his eyes. "Look, I think...we should put all this behind us. When this over we can go back to hating each other, but for now, can we just...get over it? For five minutes?" Potter was staring at him with that heartfelt expression again. It was all wide eyed, and not that innocent. He was still balancing on the balls of his feet.
"Fine. But you're still a speccy git."
"Of course." Potter nodded at that, and finally sat down. He scooted around Draco until they sat side by side, backs against the wall. It was so familiar, so simple. It was almost easy to forget where they were. Why they were there.
"Shouldn't you be off fighting, or something?" Draco asked. He stared at his hands. There was blood under his nails. He took a deep breath again. Tried to remind himself to actually breath. The word hope seemed seared into his brain.
"I needed some time." Draco looked up. Harry - when had he become Harry? - was staring at the wall. His eyes were hard, cold. It was expression Draco had seen so many times before. It was the expression of someone who knew they faced something terrifying.
"Why?" He asked. The question was loaded. The unspoken parts hung between them. Why had this all happened? Why was Potter the one who had to end it? Why did it have to end today? Why, why, why?
"To prepare myself. I could go out there and...I can either kill someone, or be killed by them. Kill or be killed. I always thought that was something that applied to lions." Potter was still staring at the wall. Draco could see his hands shaking. Potter was scared. Stupid, brave, Gryffindor Potter was terrified. A year ago, a month ago, Draco would have mocked him for that. Now, he just realized they weren't as different as he'd pretended for so long.
"You Know Who isn't a someone." He reached out to touch Potter, to lay a comforting hand on his knee, but his hand hovered between them. Potter glanced at it, just for a moment, before looking back to the wall.
"Still." It started to rain. Draco could feel the tiny prickles of rain against his skin. It was just drizzling. It was, he thought, oddly appropriate; like a scene from a book. "I don't want to be a killer, Malfoy."
"I know." Draco didn't hesitate this time. He reached those final few centimetres and took Potter's hand. Neither of them looked at the other. "You don't have to do this. You can do it next week, or next month, or even next year."
"I do." It was a simple phrase, but it felt heavy. It hung in the air. It rang in Draco's ears. It had to be today. It was time.
Potter let go.
Emily//Gryff//40 points