H/D fic: You Set Fire to the Rain--Parts 1-2
Author: icicle33
Title: You Set Fire to the Rain
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco, past Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Andromeda and Teddy
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other works that I refer to in this story. Please don’t sue me.
Warnings: angst, violence, strong language, hot boy love *Highlight to read* slight gore, mental illness, character death, and sexual situations*
A/N about warnings: ~contains spoilers~*highlight to read*This fic will contain character death. I’m telling you this up front, so no one kills me later. However, the character death will not come until the end of the story, and this story is not about death at all. Rather, this is a story about Harry’s journey in self-discovery. It’s about the epic love story that exists between Harry and Draco, and how even in a short time, they managed to change each other’s lives. Yes, you will need tissues for this fic, but you will also smile, laugh, and I’m pretty sure that you will be content with the ending. If you join me on this journey through Harry’s whirlwind relationship with Draco, I promise you won’t regret it. *
Word Count: ~3500 in this section (novel length in all)
Summary: After the war, Harry cannot handle the overbearing press and needs to get away. He decides to spend the summer with Andromeda and Teddy in France. When Malfoy shows up too, things get complicated. “Slowly, you were becoming my world, my reason for existence; and yet, I wasn’t even a blotch, not even an insignificant speck in the universe of Draco Malfoy.”
A/N: I originally wrote this fic for emofest; however, I wrote it in a short period of time and wasn’t a hundred percent happy with the finished story. Over the next several weeks, I will be posting an edited version that will also include several extra scenes, and I’m much happier with this version. I would like to thank my two lovely betas: ashiiblack and erised_dreams. Without you ladies, I never could have written this fic. All mistakes that remain are my own. Last thing, this story is EWE and mostly DH compliant, but I have tweaked a few things to go along with my plot.
Enjoy and I apologise for the ridiculously long header.
~You Set Fire to the Rain~
I set fire to the rain just to watch you burn. I set fire to the rain and threw us in the flames. ~HJP1
: : One : :
They say that life is full of great adventures-that the adventures are what make life worth living. Well, by the time I left Hogwarts, I had more than my fill of adventures. I was ready to start living a quiet life of solitude.
What I didn’t know, what I didn’t count on-was that my greatest adventure was still to come-that my greatest adventure would be with you.
If I had known what would happen-if I had known that you would become my world, perhaps I would have done things differently.
Or perhaps I would have done things exactly the same.
All I know is that it’s over now, and I’ll never be the same. We’ll never be the same.
I’m not sure where to start; it’s such a long and complicated story, much like everything in my life. Perhaps I should just take the easy route, for once, and start at the beginning.
: : :
Two Years Earlier...
After the war, I didn’t know anything about your life. I testified at your hearing, testified for you and your mum, so you wouldn’t wind up in prison. You didn’t deserve Azkaban; you were a pawn of the war-helpless, broken, and dejected-much like I was. Definitely not a criminal. I told myself that the only reason I was helping you was because of your mum; she had saved my life after all, so I owed her. But now, I realise that it went so much deeper than that. Perhaps even back then-I felt an unnatural, unwavering attraction to you-much like a moth to a flame.
After your trial, I completely lost track of you. Once I knew you weren’t going to Azkaban, I didn’t much care what you did with your life. I didn’t much care what anyone did with their lives. I just wanted to find a way to have one of my own and most importantly to be left alone.
Of course, being Harry Potter and defeating the most heinous dark wizard of all time, twice, didn’t keep me off the radar. I was constantly being followed, hassled for interviews, pictures, guest appearances-you name it and they asked for it. Hadn’t I already done enough for the wizarding world? Hadn’t I already sacrificed my childhood and adolescence to a lunatic trying to rid the world of diversity by infecting the wizarding population with hatred and intolerance? Apparently, saving the world twice didn’t grant you a free pass or any influence amongst the press. At least it didn’t for me.
The press.
Oh, how I love the press. Adore them really. The Daily Prophet and I are on such familiar terms that the head writers and I get together every Friday night for a pint at the Leaky…yeah right. I have threatened, or at least Hermione has threatened, the Prophet, with a multitude of lawsuits ranging from invasion of privacy to defamation and slander. She has threatened to sue them for every Knut they are worth, but unfortunately, that hasn’t deterred them. It was as if the more I hid from them, the more interested they were in reporting news on me. And it wasn’t just the Prophet any more either. Other papers, primarily gossips rags, were all interested in the daily happenings of Harry Potter’s oh-so-fabulous life. They followed me everywhere, taking pictures and reporting on me doing anything and everything, including, eating lunch with my mouth open or not washing my hands after using the loo one afternoon. It was getting absolutely ridiculous, and I just couldn’t take it any more.
It was one thing to write about my sordid breakup with Ginny Weasley as the press had called it. All of a sudden, I was London’s most eligible bachelor, and as loath I am to admit this, it was ‘big’ news. Still, it was quite another to report about my personal hygiene skills and choice in restaurants or magazine subscriptions. Why do people actually care about those things? Seriously.
At first, I tried to take it all in good faith, laugh it off that the papers now had a ‘Where’s Harry?’ column or ‘Spot Potter’ section. It was funny at first-kind of a continuation of Potterwatch-but not any more; the war had ended three years ago. Three bloody years and the press still wouldn’t leave me alone-no matter how much I hid. The more I hid, the more they pried and became desperate to capture pictures of the elusive Potter.
I was growing deeply depressed and even my work was suffering. Kingsley told me that he didn’t feel that my heart was in the Auror training programme any more, so that I should take some time off-the entire summer if I wanted-to recuperate and find myself, decide if I really wanted to be an Auror or not. It wasn't even May yet, and he insisted that he wouldn't expect me back until September. At first I was hesitant at accepting his proposal, what would I really do with so much time off? And of course, I wanted to be an Auror. I’m Harry Potter, defender of innocents, vanquisher of evil…what else would anyone expect me to be? What else was I actually good at?
But then the press took things much too far.
Someone had actually managed to capture pictures of me sleeping…in my bedroom…and worst of all...without pyjamas. I was only wearing my red Golden Snitch boxers. At first, I was mortified; it was like a nightmare that the entire wizarding world now knew what I looked like in my pants. But after speaking with Hermione, I quickly got over my mortification, and then I was actually petrified, terrified for my safety. How could someone invade my privacy like that and watch me while I sleep? It was beyond disturbing, so much so that I decided to take Kingsley up on his offer. I needed a break, a long break, far away from all the nonsense and madness that surrounded wizarding London.
Luckily, I knew just the place. It had been far too long since I had seen my darling godson anyway, so I decided to spend the summer with Andromeda and Teddy at their summerhouse in the south of France. Little did I know, that I would find a lot more than I bargained for that summer.
: : Two : :
“We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.” ~JM2
: : :
Spending the summer with Andromeda and my godson turned out to be exactly what I needed. Their old-world and roomy villa was lovely, and the petite hamlet they resided in was quiet and secluded. The small population of their village, Roquebrun, was mostly Muggle and didn’t give an arse about Harry Potter. I was in absolute heaven. I could walk the streets and the town without being mobbed by a frantic group of strangers or hassled for autographs and photos anytime I went out to the market.
It was utterly fantastic, so much so that I was considering extending my stay.
Perhaps even indefinitely.
Besides, I also had the best of company between Andromeda and Teddy. Andromeda was one of the sweetest women I had ever met. If not for her hauntingly similar appearance to Bellatrix Lestrange, she would be top contender for my favourite person ever award. Yet, even though she looked like a haughty Black, she didn’t possess one hair on her head that resembled the cruel nature of the estranged and twisted Black sisters. I don’t understand how such a sinister woman, (the late Mrs Black), could have given birth to such a kind-hearted soul. But I suppose there’s always an exception to every rule-look at Sirius. Although, Sirius wasn’t even close to as kind-hearted as his cousin was. In fact, Sirius was actually a lot more Black than he let on. As much as I loved him, Sirius had an inner darkness in him that always threatened to come undone. But none of that matters any more, since Sirius is gone and all.
Even though it has been many years since his death, it still hurt to think about Sirius, much too deeply. I tried to keep him far from my thoughts, but being around Andromeda and Teddy brought my dear godfather to mind every so often. After all, Andromeda and Teddy were the only Blacks left, other than you, of course, and luckily for Andromeda, it seemed like Teddy was taking after his mother and grandmother because he was getting to be such a wonderful little boy. It appeared that the Black family poison had surpassed his generation. Thank Merlin. He was only 4-years-old and already he was so smart, kind, and loving. I could not have been prouder of my godson and everything was going smashingly-until you came along.
Before you, things were not perfect.
No, things were far from perfect, perhaps not even ‘good’, but at least they were normal, steady. You came pounding into my life like a whirlwind, disrupting everyone and everything that I had ever known; suddenly, you started to invade my mind constantly. Sometimes, it made me want to strangle you, particularly because I was having such a pleasant time with Andromeda and Teddy until you showed up to ruin it. It was just like being back at school again; no matter how far I ran, I couldn’t be free from Draco bloody Malfoy.
: : :
I’ll always remember the day I first saw you again. I hadn’t thought about you in years, not since your trial. Occasionally, I had scanned over some horrid, scandalous article about you and your family in the paper: how they had sentenced your father to the Kiss and how your mother was in and out of St Mungo’s with shot nerves and anxiety attacks. Of course, I ignored them because Merlin knows they were probably false since I knew better than anyone that the press will write anything to sell copies. Unfortunately, this time the papers were not wrong. Narcissa Malfoy was much more ill than the papers had let on-so ill in fact-that not more than three months after Lucius had been given the Kiss, Narcissa completely lost her mind.
And that was when you showed up.
I was in the other room when I first heard Andromeda cry out. Apparently, she trusted you enough to allow you access to the wards; something, I would not have allowed had I known, which is why one afternoon, you just appeared in her living room. I heard Andromeda scream and came running out, wand drawn. I saw you standing there with a blank, dejected look upon your face, your white blond hair ruffling out in all directions. I had never seen your face so pale, your eyes so unguarded. Yet, out of habit I came after you with my wand, threatening you with it right at the throat, but you didn’t even flinch. It was as if your mind was completely elsewhere, lost in another place, another time. It seemed completely meaningless to you that I was threatening your life.
“It’s okay, Harry,” Andromeda said. “Please lower your wand. It’s only my nephew, Draco.”
I still wasn’t convinced; somehow, I felt as if it were some sort of trick. Over the years, you had played enough pranks on me that I knew better than to ever let my guard down around you. Yet, I reluctantly obliged; it was Andromeda’s house after all, and you seemed harmless enough.
I took two steps back and let Andromeda step between us, but I never let go of my wand. It was always gripped firmly in my hand, ready to go at a moment’s notice. At least my Auror training was good for something.
“Draco, what’s the matter?” Andromeda asked, her voice high-pitched and laced with concern.
She put her arms around you and pulled you tightly against her body. For some unexplainable reason, I was burning with jealousy.
“Love,” she continued softly, “you can tell me anything. We’re family. What’s wrong?”
She started rubbing circles on your back, but you didn’t respond. You just stared into thin air blankly, as if Andromeda and I weren’t in the room. In fact, I don’t think you noticed my presence at all-even after the whole wand and life-threatening incident.
But I noticed you. God, I have always noticed you.
I couldn’t stop watching your listless grey eyes; they were so clear, an almost tungsten shade of silver, speckled with flecks of blue. They were hauntingly beautiful, and now that I look back, I think that’s when you started sucking me in, slowly making me fall for you. I was always a sucker for your beautiful grey eyes.
“Draco, please. You’re scaring me,” Andromeda pleaded. “Did something happen to you? To your mother?”
Her voice hitched as she mentioned her sister. Even though they had spent so many years estranged, it was obvious to anyone that knew her that Andromeda’s baby sister was the light of her life, besides her grandson, of course.
You bowed your head and averted your eyes from Andromeda. It was as if the mention of your mother finally brought you back from whatever daze you were trapped in. You gasped for air and then finally spoke.
“Mother,” you cried, “Oh gods, Mother.” It was all you were able to say before breaking into tears.
It wasn’t the first time I had seen you cry. As much as I would like to wipe out that particular memory-the day of the fateful bathroom incident-well, that day I had seen you cry too. Luckily, this time it didn’t end with me slashing your chest open and almost killing you. In some ways, it was almost worse.
The first time I had seen you cry, you seemed tormented, angry, helpless even. But this time, it was different; your cries were so frantic, so deep and tormented. It was painful just to listen to them, to watch you convulse in pain. You were sobbing and breathless, tears making anything that came out of your mouth unintelligible. I almost couldn’t comprehend the pain you were in, but it was obvious to me that something terrible had happened…something so terrible that your life would never be the same. None of our lives would be the same.
They say that seeing your enemy break down, falling apart in agony and damnation, is the greatest joy of all-that revenge is best served cold. At that moment, it could not have felt further from the truth. I don’t know if it was because we were never enemies at all or if it was just something about you in particular, but at that moment, something in me changed forever. The only thing I wanted was to stop your pain, and for once, I wasn’t responsible.
I dropped my wand and ran over to the two of you. I didn’t know anything about comforting people-mostly because I had never been comforted as a child-still, I tried my best and threw my arms around you gently, but with enough pressure that you would feel my presence. As Andromeda continued rubbing circles on your back, I started petting your hair, timidly at first, and then once I realised you hadn’t pushed me away, I started running my fingers through your silky strands as well, stroking the soft strands as lightly and soothingly as possible. I never imagined that your hair would be so soft, so fine. It was even softer than Ginny’s hair. But now wasn’t the time to think about such trivialities. You were in pain and you needed me; that was all that I could grasp.
“Shh,” I soothed. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” I stopped stroking your hair for a second and locked eyes with you, praying that I would get some sort of response, any type of recognition rather than just a blank stare. “Please-just tell us what happened. We want to help.”
Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say because you started to laugh, dark and manically.
“You can’t help,” you said. Your grey eyes darkening and meeting mine once again, the silver orbs were gone and replaced by stormy blackness. “No one can.” You paused, and this time looked at Andromeda. “Mother’s dead,” you said, your voice even and devoid of any emotion.
Two words, technically three-and that was all it took to change everything.
“No,” Andromeda choked out, her face blanching. “My Cissa? It can’t be true.”
“Mother’s dead,” you repeated, as if Andromeda and I hadn’t heard you the first time.
Andromeda was hyperventilating now; I had to do something to get her to relax.
“How?” I asked. “How did she die?”
You turned your head slowly, your long hair whipping around gradually and looked me directly in the eyes. Your eyes were narrowed now, much more like the infamous Malfoy glare you usually greeted me with. “She killed herself, Potter,” you spat. “What’s it to you?”
“Oh my god,” Andromeda cried. “Oh my god.”
I instantly looked down at the floor; I couldn’t meet your harsh gaze anymore. I hadn’t meant to hurt you and put that hostile distance between us again, but most of all, I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I had been so cold, demanding in asking about your mother’s death. I had just wanted to get Andromeda to relax, to understand what had happened. In typical Potter fashion, I just made things worse. Way to go, idiot.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked out; my voice was harsh, but soft, barely a whisper. I couldn’t take it back, so all I could do was apologise.
“I’m sure you are, Potter,” you sneered. “You’re probably happy. One less Death Eater for you and your Auror buddies to off, right?” I felt my face turning red. Fuck.
“No, Malfoy… I-” I was at a loss for words there had to be a way to fix this, but of course, I couldn’t think of anything. Luckily, Andromeda interrupted-she came to my rescue.
“Draco,” she said, her voice soft but so painfully distressed. “You don’t mean that, love,” she continued, her tone slow, too slow really, almost as if she were fighting to hold back tears. “Think about what you’re saying, son. This is Harry Potter. The same man who testified for you and your mother at your trial.” She attempted to smile at Draco, but it only came across as a rather lame smirk.
“Whatever,” you responded, your voice still harsh and your forehead furrowed.
By this point, I was halfway across the room, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I didn’t want to be within arm’s length in case you decided to attack me. I did everything I could to avoid your sharp glare. At the time, I didn’t understand why it was so painful to have you look at me with such disgust.
I tried to distract myself and instead focused on your appearance. You didn’t look yourself at all; you were wearing Muggle clothes, a plain tee shirt and a tight pair of jeans. It was quite strange seeing the great Draco Malfoy, Slytherin poster boy and pureblood supremacist, wearing something so common. Still, something was off. The front of your shirt was stained with dark, crimson blotches. Why hadn’t I noticed before? Checking for blood is one of the first fundamentals we learn in Auror training. Fuck, your mere presence made me forget everything that I had ever learnt.
“Is that blood?” I asked, hoping that you wouldn’t hex me for continuing to open up my big fat mouth.
“Yes...there was so much blood. Mother-” Your voice started to crack again; I watched you fight back more tears. I couldn’t help but admire your remarkable self-composure.
Although I had forgotten about Andromeda, at this point in the conversation, she finally seemed to regain some coherence. Her long, porcelain face was blotchy and tears continued to trickle down her cheeks, but at least she had recuperated enough to speak.
“How can this be, Draco?” she demanded. “Why would she do this?”
You ignored me and walked over to your aunt. This time, it was you who put your arms around her and whispered in her ear, “I don’t know, Auntie. I don’t know.”
The two of you seemed to stay in that position for a while, both holding each other and trading small comforts. I never thought I would see the day when you would hold another person willingly and try to offer solace.
I felt like an outsider and a nuisance, so I left the two of you alone. I don’t know how long you stayed in that position; it could have been hours or just a few minutes, but what I do know, is that when I came back later, you were gone. Andromeda and I were alone again.
For some reason, I felt a pang in my chest, a deep emptiness that I couldn’t shrug off; it was positively maddening.
: : :
To be continued…
Go to Parts 3--4
Author's Note: Thanks for reading parts one and two of this story. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
[1] The HJP quote and title of this fic are based off the Adele song, “Set Fire to the Rain”. I have altered the lyrics in order to fit this fic, but the original song and lyrics do not belong to me. You can access the lyrics here.
[2] The second quote is written by Jim Morrison. Neither quote belongs to me, nor do I take credit for them.
~Icicle
Title: You Set Fire to the Rain
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco, past Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Andromeda and Teddy
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other works that I refer to in this story. Please don’t sue me.
Warnings: angst, violence, strong language, hot boy love *Highlight to read* slight gore, mental illness, character death, and sexual situations*
A/N about warnings: ~contains spoilers~*highlight to read*This fic will contain character death. I’m telling you this up front, so no one kills me later. However, the character death will not come until the end of the story, and this story is not about death at all. Rather, this is a story about Harry’s journey in self-discovery. It’s about the epic love story that exists between Harry and Draco, and how even in a short time, they managed to change each other’s lives. Yes, you will need tissues for this fic, but you will also smile, laugh, and I’m pretty sure that you will be content with the ending. If you join me on this journey through Harry’s whirlwind relationship with Draco, I promise you won’t regret it. *
Word Count: ~3500 in this section (novel length in all)
Summary: After the war, Harry cannot handle the overbearing press and needs to get away. He decides to spend the summer with Andromeda and Teddy in France. When Malfoy shows up too, things get complicated. “Slowly, you were becoming my world, my reason for existence; and yet, I wasn’t even a blotch, not even an insignificant speck in the universe of Draco Malfoy.”
A/N: I originally wrote this fic for emofest; however, I wrote it in a short period of time and wasn’t a hundred percent happy with the finished story. Over the next several weeks, I will be posting an edited version that will also include several extra scenes, and I’m much happier with this version. I would like to thank my two lovely betas: ashiiblack and erised_dreams. Without you ladies, I never could have written this fic. All mistakes that remain are my own. Last thing, this story is EWE and mostly DH compliant, but I have tweaked a few things to go along with my plot.
Enjoy and I apologise for the ridiculously long header.
~You Set Fire to the Rain~
I set fire to the rain just to watch you burn. I set fire to the rain and threw us in the flames. ~HJP1
: : One : :
They say that life is full of great adventures-that the adventures are what make life worth living. Well, by the time I left Hogwarts, I had more than my fill of adventures. I was ready to start living a quiet life of solitude.
What I didn’t know, what I didn’t count on-was that my greatest adventure was still to come-that my greatest adventure would be with you.
If I had known what would happen-if I had known that you would become my world, perhaps I would have done things differently.
Or perhaps I would have done things exactly the same.
All I know is that it’s over now, and I’ll never be the same. We’ll never be the same.
I’m not sure where to start; it’s such a long and complicated story, much like everything in my life. Perhaps I should just take the easy route, for once, and start at the beginning.
: : :
Two Years Earlier...
After the war, I didn’t know anything about your life. I testified at your hearing, testified for you and your mum, so you wouldn’t wind up in prison. You didn’t deserve Azkaban; you were a pawn of the war-helpless, broken, and dejected-much like I was. Definitely not a criminal. I told myself that the only reason I was helping you was because of your mum; she had saved my life after all, so I owed her. But now, I realise that it went so much deeper than that. Perhaps even back then-I felt an unnatural, unwavering attraction to you-much like a moth to a flame.
After your trial, I completely lost track of you. Once I knew you weren’t going to Azkaban, I didn’t much care what you did with your life. I didn’t much care what anyone did with their lives. I just wanted to find a way to have one of my own and most importantly to be left alone.
Of course, being Harry Potter and defeating the most heinous dark wizard of all time, twice, didn’t keep me off the radar. I was constantly being followed, hassled for interviews, pictures, guest appearances-you name it and they asked for it. Hadn’t I already done enough for the wizarding world? Hadn’t I already sacrificed my childhood and adolescence to a lunatic trying to rid the world of diversity by infecting the wizarding population with hatred and intolerance? Apparently, saving the world twice didn’t grant you a free pass or any influence amongst the press. At least it didn’t for me.
The press.
Oh, how I love the press. Adore them really. The Daily Prophet and I are on such familiar terms that the head writers and I get together every Friday night for a pint at the Leaky…yeah right. I have threatened, or at least Hermione has threatened, the Prophet, with a multitude of lawsuits ranging from invasion of privacy to defamation and slander. She has threatened to sue them for every Knut they are worth, but unfortunately, that hasn’t deterred them. It was as if the more I hid from them, the more interested they were in reporting news on me. And it wasn’t just the Prophet any more either. Other papers, primarily gossips rags, were all interested in the daily happenings of Harry Potter’s oh-so-fabulous life. They followed me everywhere, taking pictures and reporting on me doing anything and everything, including, eating lunch with my mouth open or not washing my hands after using the loo one afternoon. It was getting absolutely ridiculous, and I just couldn’t take it any more.
It was one thing to write about my sordid breakup with Ginny Weasley as the press had called it. All of a sudden, I was London’s most eligible bachelor, and as loath I am to admit this, it was ‘big’ news. Still, it was quite another to report about my personal hygiene skills and choice in restaurants or magazine subscriptions. Why do people actually care about those things? Seriously.
At first, I tried to take it all in good faith, laugh it off that the papers now had a ‘Where’s Harry?’ column or ‘Spot Potter’ section. It was funny at first-kind of a continuation of Potterwatch-but not any more; the war had ended three years ago. Three bloody years and the press still wouldn’t leave me alone-no matter how much I hid. The more I hid, the more they pried and became desperate to capture pictures of the elusive Potter.
I was growing deeply depressed and even my work was suffering. Kingsley told me that he didn’t feel that my heart was in the Auror training programme any more, so that I should take some time off-the entire summer if I wanted-to recuperate and find myself, decide if I really wanted to be an Auror or not. It wasn't even May yet, and he insisted that he wouldn't expect me back until September. At first I was hesitant at accepting his proposal, what would I really do with so much time off? And of course, I wanted to be an Auror. I’m Harry Potter, defender of innocents, vanquisher of evil…what else would anyone expect me to be? What else was I actually good at?
But then the press took things much too far.
Someone had actually managed to capture pictures of me sleeping…in my bedroom…and worst of all...without pyjamas. I was only wearing my red Golden Snitch boxers. At first, I was mortified; it was like a nightmare that the entire wizarding world now knew what I looked like in my pants. But after speaking with Hermione, I quickly got over my mortification, and then I was actually petrified, terrified for my safety. How could someone invade my privacy like that and watch me while I sleep? It was beyond disturbing, so much so that I decided to take Kingsley up on his offer. I needed a break, a long break, far away from all the nonsense and madness that surrounded wizarding London.
Luckily, I knew just the place. It had been far too long since I had seen my darling godson anyway, so I decided to spend the summer with Andromeda and Teddy at their summerhouse in the south of France. Little did I know, that I would find a lot more than I bargained for that summer.
: : Two : :
“We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.” ~JM2
: : :
Spending the summer with Andromeda and my godson turned out to be exactly what I needed. Their old-world and roomy villa was lovely, and the petite hamlet they resided in was quiet and secluded. The small population of their village, Roquebrun, was mostly Muggle and didn’t give an arse about Harry Potter. I was in absolute heaven. I could walk the streets and the town without being mobbed by a frantic group of strangers or hassled for autographs and photos anytime I went out to the market.
It was utterly fantastic, so much so that I was considering extending my stay.
Perhaps even indefinitely.
Besides, I also had the best of company between Andromeda and Teddy. Andromeda was one of the sweetest women I had ever met. If not for her hauntingly similar appearance to Bellatrix Lestrange, she would be top contender for my favourite person ever award. Yet, even though she looked like a haughty Black, she didn’t possess one hair on her head that resembled the cruel nature of the estranged and twisted Black sisters. I don’t understand how such a sinister woman, (the late Mrs Black), could have given birth to such a kind-hearted soul. But I suppose there’s always an exception to every rule-look at Sirius. Although, Sirius wasn’t even close to as kind-hearted as his cousin was. In fact, Sirius was actually a lot more Black than he let on. As much as I loved him, Sirius had an inner darkness in him that always threatened to come undone. But none of that matters any more, since Sirius is gone and all.
Even though it has been many years since his death, it still hurt to think about Sirius, much too deeply. I tried to keep him far from my thoughts, but being around Andromeda and Teddy brought my dear godfather to mind every so often. After all, Andromeda and Teddy were the only Blacks left, other than you, of course, and luckily for Andromeda, it seemed like Teddy was taking after his mother and grandmother because he was getting to be such a wonderful little boy. It appeared that the Black family poison had surpassed his generation. Thank Merlin. He was only 4-years-old and already he was so smart, kind, and loving. I could not have been prouder of my godson and everything was going smashingly-until you came along.
Before you, things were not perfect.
No, things were far from perfect, perhaps not even ‘good’, but at least they were normal, steady. You came pounding into my life like a whirlwind, disrupting everyone and everything that I had ever known; suddenly, you started to invade my mind constantly. Sometimes, it made me want to strangle you, particularly because I was having such a pleasant time with Andromeda and Teddy until you showed up to ruin it. It was just like being back at school again; no matter how far I ran, I couldn’t be free from Draco bloody Malfoy.
: : :
I’ll always remember the day I first saw you again. I hadn’t thought about you in years, not since your trial. Occasionally, I had scanned over some horrid, scandalous article about you and your family in the paper: how they had sentenced your father to the Kiss and how your mother was in and out of St Mungo’s with shot nerves and anxiety attacks. Of course, I ignored them because Merlin knows they were probably false since I knew better than anyone that the press will write anything to sell copies. Unfortunately, this time the papers were not wrong. Narcissa Malfoy was much more ill than the papers had let on-so ill in fact-that not more than three months after Lucius had been given the Kiss, Narcissa completely lost her mind.
And that was when you showed up.
I was in the other room when I first heard Andromeda cry out. Apparently, she trusted you enough to allow you access to the wards; something, I would not have allowed had I known, which is why one afternoon, you just appeared in her living room. I heard Andromeda scream and came running out, wand drawn. I saw you standing there with a blank, dejected look upon your face, your white blond hair ruffling out in all directions. I had never seen your face so pale, your eyes so unguarded. Yet, out of habit I came after you with my wand, threatening you with it right at the throat, but you didn’t even flinch. It was as if your mind was completely elsewhere, lost in another place, another time. It seemed completely meaningless to you that I was threatening your life.
“It’s okay, Harry,” Andromeda said. “Please lower your wand. It’s only my nephew, Draco.”
I still wasn’t convinced; somehow, I felt as if it were some sort of trick. Over the years, you had played enough pranks on me that I knew better than to ever let my guard down around you. Yet, I reluctantly obliged; it was Andromeda’s house after all, and you seemed harmless enough.
I took two steps back and let Andromeda step between us, but I never let go of my wand. It was always gripped firmly in my hand, ready to go at a moment’s notice. At least my Auror training was good for something.
“Draco, what’s the matter?” Andromeda asked, her voice high-pitched and laced with concern.
She put her arms around you and pulled you tightly against her body. For some unexplainable reason, I was burning with jealousy.
“Love,” she continued softly, “you can tell me anything. We’re family. What’s wrong?”
She started rubbing circles on your back, but you didn’t respond. You just stared into thin air blankly, as if Andromeda and I weren’t in the room. In fact, I don’t think you noticed my presence at all-even after the whole wand and life-threatening incident.
But I noticed you. God, I have always noticed you.
I couldn’t stop watching your listless grey eyes; they were so clear, an almost tungsten shade of silver, speckled with flecks of blue. They were hauntingly beautiful, and now that I look back, I think that’s when you started sucking me in, slowly making me fall for you. I was always a sucker for your beautiful grey eyes.
“Draco, please. You’re scaring me,” Andromeda pleaded. “Did something happen to you? To your mother?”
Her voice hitched as she mentioned her sister. Even though they had spent so many years estranged, it was obvious to anyone that knew her that Andromeda’s baby sister was the light of her life, besides her grandson, of course.
You bowed your head and averted your eyes from Andromeda. It was as if the mention of your mother finally brought you back from whatever daze you were trapped in. You gasped for air and then finally spoke.
“Mother,” you cried, “Oh gods, Mother.” It was all you were able to say before breaking into tears.
It wasn’t the first time I had seen you cry. As much as I would like to wipe out that particular memory-the day of the fateful bathroom incident-well, that day I had seen you cry too. Luckily, this time it didn’t end with me slashing your chest open and almost killing you. In some ways, it was almost worse.
The first time I had seen you cry, you seemed tormented, angry, helpless even. But this time, it was different; your cries were so frantic, so deep and tormented. It was painful just to listen to them, to watch you convulse in pain. You were sobbing and breathless, tears making anything that came out of your mouth unintelligible. I almost couldn’t comprehend the pain you were in, but it was obvious to me that something terrible had happened…something so terrible that your life would never be the same. None of our lives would be the same.
They say that seeing your enemy break down, falling apart in agony and damnation, is the greatest joy of all-that revenge is best served cold. At that moment, it could not have felt further from the truth. I don’t know if it was because we were never enemies at all or if it was just something about you in particular, but at that moment, something in me changed forever. The only thing I wanted was to stop your pain, and for once, I wasn’t responsible.
I dropped my wand and ran over to the two of you. I didn’t know anything about comforting people-mostly because I had never been comforted as a child-still, I tried my best and threw my arms around you gently, but with enough pressure that you would feel my presence. As Andromeda continued rubbing circles on your back, I started petting your hair, timidly at first, and then once I realised you hadn’t pushed me away, I started running my fingers through your silky strands as well, stroking the soft strands as lightly and soothingly as possible. I never imagined that your hair would be so soft, so fine. It was even softer than Ginny’s hair. But now wasn’t the time to think about such trivialities. You were in pain and you needed me; that was all that I could grasp.
“Shh,” I soothed. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” I stopped stroking your hair for a second and locked eyes with you, praying that I would get some sort of response, any type of recognition rather than just a blank stare. “Please-just tell us what happened. We want to help.”
Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say because you started to laugh, dark and manically.
“You can’t help,” you said. Your grey eyes darkening and meeting mine once again, the silver orbs were gone and replaced by stormy blackness. “No one can.” You paused, and this time looked at Andromeda. “Mother’s dead,” you said, your voice even and devoid of any emotion.
Two words, technically three-and that was all it took to change everything.
“No,” Andromeda choked out, her face blanching. “My Cissa? It can’t be true.”
“Mother’s dead,” you repeated, as if Andromeda and I hadn’t heard you the first time.
Andromeda was hyperventilating now; I had to do something to get her to relax.
“How?” I asked. “How did she die?”
You turned your head slowly, your long hair whipping around gradually and looked me directly in the eyes. Your eyes were narrowed now, much more like the infamous Malfoy glare you usually greeted me with. “She killed herself, Potter,” you spat. “What’s it to you?”
“Oh my god,” Andromeda cried. “Oh my god.”
I instantly looked down at the floor; I couldn’t meet your harsh gaze anymore. I hadn’t meant to hurt you and put that hostile distance between us again, but most of all, I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I had been so cold, demanding in asking about your mother’s death. I had just wanted to get Andromeda to relax, to understand what had happened. In typical Potter fashion, I just made things worse. Way to go, idiot.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked out; my voice was harsh, but soft, barely a whisper. I couldn’t take it back, so all I could do was apologise.
“I’m sure you are, Potter,” you sneered. “You’re probably happy. One less Death Eater for you and your Auror buddies to off, right?” I felt my face turning red. Fuck.
“No, Malfoy… I-” I was at a loss for words there had to be a way to fix this, but of course, I couldn’t think of anything. Luckily, Andromeda interrupted-she came to my rescue.
“Draco,” she said, her voice soft but so painfully distressed. “You don’t mean that, love,” she continued, her tone slow, too slow really, almost as if she were fighting to hold back tears. “Think about what you’re saying, son. This is Harry Potter. The same man who testified for you and your mother at your trial.” She attempted to smile at Draco, but it only came across as a rather lame smirk.
“Whatever,” you responded, your voice still harsh and your forehead furrowed.
By this point, I was halfway across the room, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I didn’t want to be within arm’s length in case you decided to attack me. I did everything I could to avoid your sharp glare. At the time, I didn’t understand why it was so painful to have you look at me with such disgust.
I tried to distract myself and instead focused on your appearance. You didn’t look yourself at all; you were wearing Muggle clothes, a plain tee shirt and a tight pair of jeans. It was quite strange seeing the great Draco Malfoy, Slytherin poster boy and pureblood supremacist, wearing something so common. Still, something was off. The front of your shirt was stained with dark, crimson blotches. Why hadn’t I noticed before? Checking for blood is one of the first fundamentals we learn in Auror training. Fuck, your mere presence made me forget everything that I had ever learnt.
“Is that blood?” I asked, hoping that you wouldn’t hex me for continuing to open up my big fat mouth.
“Yes...there was so much blood. Mother-” Your voice started to crack again; I watched you fight back more tears. I couldn’t help but admire your remarkable self-composure.
Although I had forgotten about Andromeda, at this point in the conversation, she finally seemed to regain some coherence. Her long, porcelain face was blotchy and tears continued to trickle down her cheeks, but at least she had recuperated enough to speak.
“How can this be, Draco?” she demanded. “Why would she do this?”
You ignored me and walked over to your aunt. This time, it was you who put your arms around her and whispered in her ear, “I don’t know, Auntie. I don’t know.”
The two of you seemed to stay in that position for a while, both holding each other and trading small comforts. I never thought I would see the day when you would hold another person willingly and try to offer solace.
I felt like an outsider and a nuisance, so I left the two of you alone. I don’t know how long you stayed in that position; it could have been hours or just a few minutes, but what I do know, is that when I came back later, you were gone. Andromeda and I were alone again.
For some reason, I felt a pang in my chest, a deep emptiness that I couldn’t shrug off; it was positively maddening.
: : :
To be continued…
Go to Parts 3--4
Author's Note: Thanks for reading parts one and two of this story. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
[1] The HJP quote and title of this fic are based off the Adele song, “Set Fire to the Rain”. I have altered the lyrics in order to fit this fic, but the original song and lyrics do not belong to me. You can access the lyrics here.
[2] The second quote is written by Jim Morrison. Neither quote belongs to me, nor do I take credit for them.
~Icicle