And now....a Drarry!
Hey, to all five of you who read this!!
Sorry I haven't updated in a while--life was hectic with the play and such, and then other things happened....
Long story short, I'm back! With a D/H drabble for you all! Yay!!
Title: Seeking
Length: 777 words (that made me happy)
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: Still PG here, folks.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, or their thoughts or their ideas. I wish I did, though! Alas, they belong to JKR, Warner Bros., and all that jazz.
Side Note: The sentence that leads to the cut is (I believe) from a story by laughs_muses. And I read that sentence, and the story that it leads to came into my mind. So...thanks to Jess, otherwise there wouldn't be a story!
Draco had always been able to find Harry Potter.
In Madam Malkin’s robe shop when they were eleven, he had followed him down the streets with his eyes, never losing sight of the black head of hair. In the Great Hall during breakfast, Draco’s eyes would always settle on Harry first. On the Quidditch pitch, first year, Potter had been easy to find. In corridors between classes Draco was sure Harry didn’t even know he took, Draco would find him. In the library, lounging against the stacks, sweater slightly untucked, sleeves rolled up, chewing delicately on the end of a quill. Wire-framed glasses slipping down his nose unnoticed.
But this time, Draco couldn’t find him. The one bloody time when it counts, Draco thought furiously to himself, fire spewing above his head. There were pitched battles and screams surrounding him, and Draco ran across the grass, telling himself it didn’t matter if he couldn’t find Potter, because Potter obviously wasn’t looking for him. Nor would he waste time on it.
Savior of the Bloody Wizarding World. Draco ducked into the tent he had been instructed to reach, parchment slightly singed in his hand. Red eyes glared at him through slits, then a long, slim hand took the slip from him and waved him off. Draco turned to leave, but stopped as a voice hissed, “You know it is your job.”
Draco left the tent.
It began raining shortly after dawn that day, Draco remembered later. It was so strange, that the final moments should have come in rain, soft and cleansing. Fire should have ended it. He walked across the field in mud, hair whipping into his face. Potter was nowhere. He stopped at the body in front of him, and nudged it over with his foot. Red hair, had to be a Weasley…yes. One of the twins stared up at him with glossy eyes. Draco knew the other had been taken before. He kept walking.
Then, he knew. He looked up. Potter was a ways in front of him, alone, sitting on the grass next to another body, stroking its hair. Draco quietly walked closer. Potter’s lips were moving, and his hand, streaked with ash and soot and blood, stroked hair away from an unseen face. The blackness of Potter’s own hair was only accentuated by the red sky looming over him. Draco’s chest hurt as Potter lifted a lifeless hand to his mouth, then turned.
Silver met emerald. Clashed, wary. Potter stood slowly, wand in one hand.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked finally, voice hoarse from shouting spells. “We’re done. There is nothing else we can do.”
Draco had always been able to find Harry Potter. His fingers fumbled on the vial in his pocket, and when he finally had it, the steaming contents fell to the ground with a tinkling sigh, glittering in the dust. Harry looked at him, shaking his head, tears in his eyes. “You can’t.” he said. “I know your orders. You’re to kill me.”
Draco stepped forward, wand falling to the ground as he opened his arms. Harry stared at him, then fell into the other boy with a sob. Hands clutching at robes in despair and hope. Draco lowered the both of them to the ground, watching as Harry’s wand fell from his fingers. When the cloth enveloped his nose and mouth, Harry didn’t struggle. His eyes stayed on Draco’s as the light slowly went out of them, as the rain kept falling around them, mingling with the tears on Harry’s face.
Draco did not move for a long moment. He heard footsteps behind him, but made no move to turn. The body in his arms shifted, began to change, black hair becoming ginger. The vial was poured down his throat. The shifting stopped, and a dead Harry Potter lay there once more. Draco turned.
Harry stood behind him, hands tucked into the traveling cloak he wore, hunched over from the wind. The glasses were slipping, and Draco could see the faint outline of a phoenix on his right forearm. Draco glanced at Ron, sacrificed as Harry Potter. With a murmured “Incendio”, the body was on fire. Black smoke spiraled up, and Draco heard the triumphant hiss from miles away. Harry glanced at the other body, its silver-blond hair becoming slowly brown and bushy. He flicked his wrist at it, and gold sparks flew up and around it, a phoenix song echoing in the morning.
Draco took the long, scarred hand that was being held out to him, and with small pops the two boys disappeared.
In the distance, the bodies of two martyrs burned.
Lemme know what you think! Please? *puppy eyes*
Sorry I haven't updated in a while--life was hectic with the play and such, and then other things happened....
Long story short, I'm back! With a D/H drabble for you all! Yay!!
Title: Seeking
Length: 777 words (that made me happy)
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: Still PG here, folks.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, or their thoughts or their ideas. I wish I did, though! Alas, they belong to JKR, Warner Bros., and all that jazz.
Side Note: The sentence that leads to the cut is (I believe) from a story by laughs_muses. And I read that sentence, and the story that it leads to came into my mind. So...thanks to Jess, otherwise there wouldn't be a story!
Draco had always been able to find Harry Potter.
In Madam Malkin’s robe shop when they were eleven, he had followed him down the streets with his eyes, never losing sight of the black head of hair. In the Great Hall during breakfast, Draco’s eyes would always settle on Harry first. On the Quidditch pitch, first year, Potter had been easy to find. In corridors between classes Draco was sure Harry didn’t even know he took, Draco would find him. In the library, lounging against the stacks, sweater slightly untucked, sleeves rolled up, chewing delicately on the end of a quill. Wire-framed glasses slipping down his nose unnoticed.
But this time, Draco couldn’t find him. The one bloody time when it counts, Draco thought furiously to himself, fire spewing above his head. There were pitched battles and screams surrounding him, and Draco ran across the grass, telling himself it didn’t matter if he couldn’t find Potter, because Potter obviously wasn’t looking for him. Nor would he waste time on it.
Savior of the Bloody Wizarding World. Draco ducked into the tent he had been instructed to reach, parchment slightly singed in his hand. Red eyes glared at him through slits, then a long, slim hand took the slip from him and waved him off. Draco turned to leave, but stopped as a voice hissed, “You know it is your job.”
Draco left the tent.
It began raining shortly after dawn that day, Draco remembered later. It was so strange, that the final moments should have come in rain, soft and cleansing. Fire should have ended it. He walked across the field in mud, hair whipping into his face. Potter was nowhere. He stopped at the body in front of him, and nudged it over with his foot. Red hair, had to be a Weasley…yes. One of the twins stared up at him with glossy eyes. Draco knew the other had been taken before. He kept walking.
Then, he knew. He looked up. Potter was a ways in front of him, alone, sitting on the grass next to another body, stroking its hair. Draco quietly walked closer. Potter’s lips were moving, and his hand, streaked with ash and soot and blood, stroked hair away from an unseen face. The blackness of Potter’s own hair was only accentuated by the red sky looming over him. Draco’s chest hurt as Potter lifted a lifeless hand to his mouth, then turned.
Silver met emerald. Clashed, wary. Potter stood slowly, wand in one hand.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked finally, voice hoarse from shouting spells. “We’re done. There is nothing else we can do.”
Draco had always been able to find Harry Potter. His fingers fumbled on the vial in his pocket, and when he finally had it, the steaming contents fell to the ground with a tinkling sigh, glittering in the dust. Harry looked at him, shaking his head, tears in his eyes. “You can’t.” he said. “I know your orders. You’re to kill me.”
Draco stepped forward, wand falling to the ground as he opened his arms. Harry stared at him, then fell into the other boy with a sob. Hands clutching at robes in despair and hope. Draco lowered the both of them to the ground, watching as Harry’s wand fell from his fingers. When the cloth enveloped his nose and mouth, Harry didn’t struggle. His eyes stayed on Draco’s as the light slowly went out of them, as the rain kept falling around them, mingling with the tears on Harry’s face.
Draco did not move for a long moment. He heard footsteps behind him, but made no move to turn. The body in his arms shifted, began to change, black hair becoming ginger. The vial was poured down his throat. The shifting stopped, and a dead Harry Potter lay there once more. Draco turned.
Harry stood behind him, hands tucked into the traveling cloak he wore, hunched over from the wind. The glasses were slipping, and Draco could see the faint outline of a phoenix on his right forearm. Draco glanced at Ron, sacrificed as Harry Potter. With a murmured “Incendio”, the body was on fire. Black smoke spiraled up, and Draco heard the triumphant hiss from miles away. Harry glanced at the other body, its silver-blond hair becoming slowly brown and bushy. He flicked his wrist at it, and gold sparks flew up and around it, a phoenix song echoing in the morning.
Draco took the long, scarred hand that was being held out to him, and with small pops the two boys disappeared.
In the distance, the bodies of two martyrs burned.
Lemme know what you think! Please? *puppy eyes*