Sunlight Coming
Oops, forgot to post this.
Title: Sunlight Coming
Word count: 600
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco preslash
Rating: PG
Summary: Harry wakes from a nightmare.
Warnings: mentions of violence, torture etc
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for sortinghatdrabs and it won that week; the prompt was “midnight memories”.
Three weeks into the Reconstruction of Hogwarts, Harry woke at half-past two biting down on a cry of fear. He could taste blood.
He sat up, opening his eyes as wide as he could. The world was a blur, but in the bright moonlight shining through the ceiling of the Great Hall, Harry could see the rows of campbeds with sleeping volunteers huddled on them. Ron's red head was on the bed next to Harry's, his freckled feet poking over the other end. Beyond Ron, Harry could make out the fuzz of Hermione's hair, blurred into an even bigger brown halo by his short-sightedness.
Harry felt around until he found his glasses, and pushed them onto his face. He sat shivering in the July heat. His mind still felt cold, invaded by Voldemort's voice and a Death Eater screaming and Malfoy's pale, strained face as he cast the Cruciatus.
Harry's body was wracked by another sympathetic shudder at the blurry memory of the Death Eater under the Cruciatus.
The sleeping mumbles and moans, the familiar faces around him, it wasn't helping. Harry touched his wand - a wartime reflex that had yet to fade - then padded out of the Great Hall, heading for Hogwarts' steps and nighttime air.
One of Hogwarts' great front doors was already open. Harry stepped out, hissing a little as his bare feet met the stone outside, and stopped short. Draco Malfoy was sitting there.
Malfoy turned at Harry's hiss, and his pale face went still, his grey eyes pale and fixed on Harry's face. “Potter.”
“Hi.” Harry wished he wasn't wearing the Snitch pyjamas Ron had got him four Christmases ago.
“I'm not up to anything. You can sleep the sleep of the righteous.” Malfoy turned away, ducking his head. The ruffled hairs at his nape were almost invisible.
“I wasn't looking for you.” Irritated by his own hovering, Harry sat on the steps too. “I had a bad dream.”
Malfoy gave him a startled look. “Me too.” Perhaps recognising the vulnerability of the admission, Malfoy hitched a sneer onto his face. “I saw the Dark Lord 24/7, not just every so often.”
“I know.” Harry was too tired to fight with him. “You were in my nightmare, actually. I had a vision last year of Voldemort making you cast Crucio for him.”
Malfoy's breath hitched at Voldemort's name. “Then we had the same dream.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Then the weight of the moment became too much, and they broke the connection, turning to look at the Forbidden Forest.
“I really thought you were dead,” Malfoy said. “I thought I was, too.”
Harry took a deep lungful of dark air. “Apparently not.”
“Mmm.” Malfoy relaxed back out of his tense hunch, sprawling back on the steps. He looked as if he should be sunning himself, the moonlight gleaming over his pale throat, cheek, hair. He looked as if he wanted very much to be relaxed in Harry's presence.
Harry searched for something to say that would make that true, that would ease the tautness of this encounter.
“Did you hear the Tornados are back in practice?”
“Yeah. They think we might actually get a full season once Quidditch is back. Nothing can stop that.” Malfoy's smile was quicksilver.
“Nothing except Saville's million injuries...” Harry felt himself relax into Hogwarts' stone as they talked about the future, arguing about the Harpies' chances and if that Greek Chaser had been worth the two million Galleons.
When the sun came up, they were sprawled together on the warming steps, fast asleep.
This was originally posted at http://lokifan.dreamwidth.org/286621.html. Comment wherever you like :)
Title: Sunlight Coming
Word count: 600
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco preslash
Rating: PG
Summary: Harry wakes from a nightmare.
Warnings: mentions of violence, torture etc
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for sortinghatdrabs and it won that week; the prompt was “midnight memories”.
Three weeks into the Reconstruction of Hogwarts, Harry woke at half-past two biting down on a cry of fear. He could taste blood.
He sat up, opening his eyes as wide as he could. The world was a blur, but in the bright moonlight shining through the ceiling of the Great Hall, Harry could see the rows of campbeds with sleeping volunteers huddled on them. Ron's red head was on the bed next to Harry's, his freckled feet poking over the other end. Beyond Ron, Harry could make out the fuzz of Hermione's hair, blurred into an even bigger brown halo by his short-sightedness.
Harry felt around until he found his glasses, and pushed them onto his face. He sat shivering in the July heat. His mind still felt cold, invaded by Voldemort's voice and a Death Eater screaming and Malfoy's pale, strained face as he cast the Cruciatus.
Harry's body was wracked by another sympathetic shudder at the blurry memory of the Death Eater under the Cruciatus.
The sleeping mumbles and moans, the familiar faces around him, it wasn't helping. Harry touched his wand - a wartime reflex that had yet to fade - then padded out of the Great Hall, heading for Hogwarts' steps and nighttime air.
One of Hogwarts' great front doors was already open. Harry stepped out, hissing a little as his bare feet met the stone outside, and stopped short. Draco Malfoy was sitting there.
Malfoy turned at Harry's hiss, and his pale face went still, his grey eyes pale and fixed on Harry's face. “Potter.”
“Hi.” Harry wished he wasn't wearing the Snitch pyjamas Ron had got him four Christmases ago.
“I'm not up to anything. You can sleep the sleep of the righteous.” Malfoy turned away, ducking his head. The ruffled hairs at his nape were almost invisible.
“I wasn't looking for you.” Irritated by his own hovering, Harry sat on the steps too. “I had a bad dream.”
Malfoy gave him a startled look. “Me too.” Perhaps recognising the vulnerability of the admission, Malfoy hitched a sneer onto his face. “I saw the Dark Lord 24/7, not just every so often.”
“I know.” Harry was too tired to fight with him. “You were in my nightmare, actually. I had a vision last year of Voldemort making you cast Crucio for him.”
Malfoy's breath hitched at Voldemort's name. “Then we had the same dream.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Then the weight of the moment became too much, and they broke the connection, turning to look at the Forbidden Forest.
“I really thought you were dead,” Malfoy said. “I thought I was, too.”
Harry took a deep lungful of dark air. “Apparently not.”
“Mmm.” Malfoy relaxed back out of his tense hunch, sprawling back on the steps. He looked as if he should be sunning himself, the moonlight gleaming over his pale throat, cheek, hair. He looked as if he wanted very much to be relaxed in Harry's presence.
Harry searched for something to say that would make that true, that would ease the tautness of this encounter.
“Did you hear the Tornados are back in practice?”
“Yeah. They think we might actually get a full season once Quidditch is back. Nothing can stop that.” Malfoy's smile was quicksilver.
“Nothing except Saville's million injuries...” Harry felt himself relax into Hogwarts' stone as they talked about the future, arguing about the Harpies' chances and if that Greek Chaser had been worth the two million Galleons.
When the sun came up, they were sprawled together on the warming steps, fast asleep.
This was originally posted at http://lokifan.dreamwidth.org/286621.html. Comment wherever you like :)