D/G Fic Exchange Entry.
So, here was my entry for the 2008 D/G fic exchange! It was written for
sillysun22
Title: Must The Sun Rise?
Rating: NC-17
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Deathly Hallows spoilers, sans epilogue, which shouldn't be canon anyways. Rated for sexual content.
Summary: Sometimes fairy tales don't work out like they're supposed to. Sometimes the deepest betrayal is that of self. (Thank you to
seegrim for the beta)
Must The Sun Rise?
The aftermath of a war is one of the most horrible things to witness, Ginny Weasley decided, as she picked her way through the debris of what remained of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There, in one corner, were bodies, surrounded by families that were grieving their loss. In another area, people were congregating and then dispersing, utilizing their skills to heal and calm those in need. And in another area, a crush of people surrounded one black-haired boy, no... man.
Harry looked up at the red-haired girl and gave a half-hearted smile, and it pierced right through her heart. Her chest constricted her breathing as a feeling of captivity struck. She hadn't felt that claustrophobic fear in ages, odd that it should strike again now on the dawn of an era of freedom. She couldn't hold his gaze, but she knew that in this moment, he wouldn't notice. That confrontation would occur later, but for now, his green eyes would focus on someone else, as they spoke words of joy at his triumphant defeat of Voldemort. The remains of the greatest terror of the age had been left where they fell. No one grieved around that body. Someone, Narcissa perhaps, had even gone to fetch Severus Snape's body, and shed a tear or two. Yet for Voldemort, the man that Tom Riddle had become, no one weeped. Ginny pondered that fact as she walked towards his prone body. Dumbledore would have cried, she thought, as she looked at him. He had believed so fully in what he fought for, had been so certain that he was right, that he'd staked many lives upon it. Things might have gone differently for him if he'd been born in different circumstances. She knew that to be true because, for a time, she had been him.
Regardless of might-have-beens, he had become a terror in reality, and Harry had defeated him. However, while many rejoiced, there was a bewildered crowd, wearing black robes, milling around aimlessly. Aurors were barking orders back and forth, and some Death Eaters had already been led away. Nervously, she looked for the all too familiar bolt of blond that would stand out in sharp relief against the darkness of night. Well, morning now, she wagered, and as she looked to the east, the first rays of sun were beginning to peek over the horizon.
Odd that the sun should rise on this scene. It should have skipped a day, and left them to mourn their dead in silence and darkness. Darkness was soothing; the light would be garish and too much to handle. Some things were too hard to accept, and the light would force acknowledgment.
The fear and sense of entrapment gripped her again as she searched the grounds around her. Fred had died. She could see George, wandering by the Quidditch pitch alone. She briefly thought of joining him, but somehow knew that it wasn't her place. He would heal, eventually, but a scar would always remain where his other half had been. Ron was holding Hermione, who was sobbing with relief at the completion of a task too grandiose to fathom. Ginny knew that they would soon look at her questioningly, with her unable to return their even gazes. Yet in spite of her anxiety, she had no regrets. She had made her bed and was content to lie in it. But the feeling of being utterly trapped wouldn't leave.
How did it come to this? The question burned in her mind as she finally saw what her eyes had been seeking. She was supposed to be Harry's. Ever since he'd rescued her from the Chamber, she'd known it... And he had too. If life was a fairy tale, it would have worked out. Instead, she found herself feeling just as trapped in the life as the unspoken intended of Harry Potter as she had been in the Chamber.
"What are you thinking, Red?"
The smooth voice nearly cracked from disuse... or was it merely hoarse from screaming? She knew that he'd been trying to capture Harry for Voldemort. It had been ingrained in him since birth to believe what Tom had taught. She had found herself agreeing with his views in moments when she let down her guard. Tom's capture of her very being had scarred her, changed her into someone much different than who she'd have otherwise been.
"That the sun should not rise today," she answered, turning to him. "How is your family?"
"My mother gained her and I clemency. She helped Potter at the end, you see. Asking about me." The name Potter upon his tongue still seemed to burn him, but she could tell that he would force himself to get over it. "My father, on the other hand, will have his fate decided by the Wizengamot."
"My mum killed your aunt."
It was a statement made in a matter-of-fact tone, and his face registered no shock. Perhaps someday he would grieve for Bella, or perhaps not. He'd never spoken of his insane aunt who'd spent years in Azkaban. Ginny wondered if he'd ever really liked the woman.
"I saw. My wand was at the ready," he admitted, wrapping his arms around her as they watched the scene unfold before them with a sort of detached interest.
"To protect who?"
"You really need to ask that question, Red?"
His nickname for her was the closest thing to a proclamation of love he'd ever uttered. He had told her once that she was red embodied, vibrant and alive. She knew without him saying in as many words, that it was what attracted him to her.
"I grew up surrounded by a culture of death," he'd said to her one night as they lay, spent, upon his sheets. "Life is an odd sort of idea for me. Freedom scares me. I think it takes far too much courage to be free. The death culture will always try to snuff out your freedom; even if that means taking your life. It's too hard to fight on your own."
She hadn't known what to say to him then, because she'd grown up with life practically embodied in her family. So many facets of joy and pain came with each member of her household.
"Fred died," she told him, still mostly numb to the fact, as she watched her brother Percy kneeling over his fallen brother's body. Her mother was beside him, weeping for her fallen son. Ginny's father, Bill, and Charlie were helping clean up and calm people as best they could. Yet the only emotion able to hold her was that horrible anxiety.
"I'm sorry."
Two words, that was all. He wasn't to blame for any of it, but a floodgate was opened by his empathy. Suddenly a wave of emotion hit her, and she began to sob. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so, he pulled her to him.
"Shh. It'll be okay. We made it through the worst of it, and together we'll survive the aftermath."
His words pierced through her fear with darts of hope.
"Do you mean that, Draco?"
"Why wouldn't I, Red? Who else is there for me if I'm not with you? Potter won. We are all 'just people' now, or so I'm sure he'll claim. That means that you and I can be together with no fear."
He sounded so calm, so assured. How was he able to hold his countenance so incredibly well in the midst of this? People were never going to accept them. And on top of that, she was going to hurt Harry. That twinge of panic threatened her again, but Draco's hand found hers and squeezed it gently, reassuring her.
The sun pierced over the castle and illumined the scene. Mist began to rise, and a slow hum seemed to start at the base of Ginny's spine.
"Do you feel that?" she asked the question wonderingly, certain that she was imagining this sensation of raw emotion.
"Yes," was all he said.
And then, in the midst of the tears of mourning, and tears of joy at survival being shed around them, he kissed her. The fear dissipated completely as their lips met, and as they broke apart they could hear someone singing. It was an old song, from the days of Merlin, sung after a battle. The words spoke to Ginny's heart, telling of fallen soldiers and hopeful lives that still remained.
Draco led her away then, and they returned once more to "their" place, his room. The past year had emphasized their differences; she had been an active voice of subversion and dissension, while he had relished his leadership role and the power it provided. They had exchanged insults and jinxes in the halls routinely, until one day they got carried away. In a moment of heated debate, he'd grabbed her wrist to keep her from striking him, pushing her into the wall. Having her pinned beneath him proved too much for his self-control, and he kissed her.
She'd kissed him right back, and thus began their furtive affair. Neither had ever felt so alive, and Ginny's panic attacks, which she'd suffered from since her first year, waned suddenly and inexplicably. They spent hours coupling upon his bed, and soon found themselves talking about everything from Quidditch, to life in general. They'd both fallen, hard, and no one had suspected. Except Blaise Zabini, who had taken it upon himself to test Draco by propositioning the fierce red-head. He'd barely walked away, and to this day wasn't sure which of the two had hexed him worse.
The memories of the year fell away as Draco opened the door and ushered her inside. Their lips crashed together in desperation, yet there was an underlying note of tenderness and sweetness. He removed her robes and shirt with ease, and gently nuzzled her neck as she fumbled with his robes. Soon they were both naked, and a renewed sense of desperation came over them.
"Prove to me that I'm alive and free, Draco," she pleaded, and he did his best to comply, parting her folds to kiss the small pearl of nerves hidden there. She sucked in her breath as his tongue laved her sensitive flesh, and she writhed as he slid a long, slender finger inside her. He looked up as she breathed his name, and then moved up her body, covering it with his own. Holding his torso above her with his arms, he settled himself at her slick opening. Ginny quivered in anticipation as they both waited. Then, as the moment waned, they began to move. Slowly. Slowly. Faster, and faster, until neither knew where he ended and she began.
"Oh Merlin," Ginny cried out, and Draco crushed the sound by pressing his lips to hers once more.
All too soon, yet an eternity later, they lay sated in each other's arms.
"Let's just stay here forever," Draco suggested, idly drawing circles around the freckles on her shoulders.
"Don't I just wish." Ginny sighed, rolling over.
"Are you scared then, Red?"
She nodded before speaking. "I fear I've betrayed Harry, somehow. All I feel when I see him is crushing panic," her voice fell to a whisper. "It's like the Chamber all over again."
"Ginevra," he said, "You haven't betrayed anyone. He left you behind, like a toy he'd return to if he was bored later. If anyone betrayed anyone, he betrayed you. I don't intend to feel bad for his stupidity."
She smiled at him then. "I still fear it, but I'm also a Gryffindor. So, best get it over with."
"Stubborn, righteous types, the lot of you," he teased as they dressed.
They walked into the Great Hall hand in hand, and were met with silence. Then, with a flash of black, Harry was standing before them, snapping at Ginny. The numbness and fear set the scene so far apart from her that she barely heard him. There her family sat, horrified expressions upon their faces at the scene playing out before them. There the Slytherins smirked at one of their own besting Harry Potter. Suddenly she crashed into herself and found herself struggling to breathe.
"... to protect you, and you betray me with Malfoy?"
Harry was shouting, and she'd never seen him so angry. Before she could catch her breath to respond, Draco had stepped in front of her protectively. Her breathing eased enough for her to draw a shaky breath.
"I suggest you not speak to Red that way, Potter. She has older brothers who quite like her and are willing to defend her honour. Besides, she's done nothing wrong. You broke up with her, you just said as much yourself."
"We broke up in word only, and she knew that. She betrayed me," Harry hissed, causing Ginny's chest to constrict again.
She looked about for something, anything to grab onto. The last thing she needed was to pass out from the panic that Harry might win. She was terrified that she might be destined to live a life meant for her, but not best for her, not truly suited to who she was. Draco was only seen as a Death Eater's son now, how could she have asked him to face down the Saviour of the Wizarding World?
"Look, Potter, I don't care what megalomaniac you just destroyed and saved the world from. Where I come from you don't speak to ladies that way. On top of that, 'betrayal' is a mighty heavy accusation. In order to betray you, she'd have had to belong to you, like some sort of property," Draco spoke calmly and evenly as his hand reached for Ginny's.
She stepped up beside him, and forced a regretful smile in Harry's direction.
Draco spoke again. "No matter how many times you save the world, Potter, Ginevra will always belong to no one but herself. If you're too stupid to accept that, and her..." Draco paused as he slipped an arm around the girl, drawing her nearer, "I'm more than willing to lay down my life to see that she, personally, has that freedom."
And in that moment and for the first time since her first year at Hogwarts, Ginevra Weasley was truly set free from her captivity.
Amazing, she thought, smiling at Draco, tears streaming down her face. Perhaps life can be a fairy tale after all. The hero just isn't who you expect him to be.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
What would you like to receive?
The tone/mood of the fic: Drama, passion - not fluff.
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: This quote doesn't have to be included, but I'd love to see a fic developed from it: "To betray you must first belong."
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: R/NC17
Canon or AU? Canon is fine, if it takes place pre-DH epilogue, but otherwise, AU is fine.
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): A fic where Ginny's married to Harry and cheating with Draco. Also: No receding hairlines - at least not on Draco!
sillysun22
Title: Must The Sun Rise?
Rating: NC-17
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Deathly Hallows spoilers, sans epilogue, which shouldn't be canon anyways. Rated for sexual content.
Summary: Sometimes fairy tales don't work out like they're supposed to. Sometimes the deepest betrayal is that of self. (Thank you to
seegrim for the beta)
Must The Sun Rise?
The aftermath of a war is one of the most horrible things to witness, Ginny Weasley decided, as she picked her way through the debris of what remained of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There, in one corner, were bodies, surrounded by families that were grieving their loss. In another area, people were congregating and then dispersing, utilizing their skills to heal and calm those in need. And in another area, a crush of people surrounded one black-haired boy, no... man.
Harry looked up at the red-haired girl and gave a half-hearted smile, and it pierced right through her heart. Her chest constricted her breathing as a feeling of captivity struck. She hadn't felt that claustrophobic fear in ages, odd that it should strike again now on the dawn of an era of freedom. She couldn't hold his gaze, but she knew that in this moment, he wouldn't notice. That confrontation would occur later, but for now, his green eyes would focus on someone else, as they spoke words of joy at his triumphant defeat of Voldemort. The remains of the greatest terror of the age had been left where they fell. No one grieved around that body. Someone, Narcissa perhaps, had even gone to fetch Severus Snape's body, and shed a tear or two. Yet for Voldemort, the man that Tom Riddle had become, no one weeped. Ginny pondered that fact as she walked towards his prone body. Dumbledore would have cried, she thought, as she looked at him. He had believed so fully in what he fought for, had been so certain that he was right, that he'd staked many lives upon it. Things might have gone differently for him if he'd been born in different circumstances. She knew that to be true because, for a time, she had been him.
Regardless of might-have-beens, he had become a terror in reality, and Harry had defeated him. However, while many rejoiced, there was a bewildered crowd, wearing black robes, milling around aimlessly. Aurors were barking orders back and forth, and some Death Eaters had already been led away. Nervously, she looked for the all too familiar bolt of blond that would stand out in sharp relief against the darkness of night. Well, morning now, she wagered, and as she looked to the east, the first rays of sun were beginning to peek over the horizon.
Odd that the sun should rise on this scene. It should have skipped a day, and left them to mourn their dead in silence and darkness. Darkness was soothing; the light would be garish and too much to handle. Some things were too hard to accept, and the light would force acknowledgment.
The fear and sense of entrapment gripped her again as she searched the grounds around her. Fred had died. She could see George, wandering by the Quidditch pitch alone. She briefly thought of joining him, but somehow knew that it wasn't her place. He would heal, eventually, but a scar would always remain where his other half had been. Ron was holding Hermione, who was sobbing with relief at the completion of a task too grandiose to fathom. Ginny knew that they would soon look at her questioningly, with her unable to return their even gazes. Yet in spite of her anxiety, she had no regrets. She had made her bed and was content to lie in it. But the feeling of being utterly trapped wouldn't leave.
How did it come to this? The question burned in her mind as she finally saw what her eyes had been seeking. She was supposed to be Harry's. Ever since he'd rescued her from the Chamber, she'd known it... And he had too. If life was a fairy tale, it would have worked out. Instead, she found herself feeling just as trapped in the life as the unspoken intended of Harry Potter as she had been in the Chamber.
"What are you thinking, Red?"
The smooth voice nearly cracked from disuse... or was it merely hoarse from screaming? She knew that he'd been trying to capture Harry for Voldemort. It had been ingrained in him since birth to believe what Tom had taught. She had found herself agreeing with his views in moments when she let down her guard. Tom's capture of her very being had scarred her, changed her into someone much different than who she'd have otherwise been.
"That the sun should not rise today," she answered, turning to him. "How is your family?"
"My mother gained her and I clemency. She helped Potter at the end, you see. Asking about me." The name Potter upon his tongue still seemed to burn him, but she could tell that he would force himself to get over it. "My father, on the other hand, will have his fate decided by the Wizengamot."
"My mum killed your aunt."
It was a statement made in a matter-of-fact tone, and his face registered no shock. Perhaps someday he would grieve for Bella, or perhaps not. He'd never spoken of his insane aunt who'd spent years in Azkaban. Ginny wondered if he'd ever really liked the woman.
"I saw. My wand was at the ready," he admitted, wrapping his arms around her as they watched the scene unfold before them with a sort of detached interest.
"To protect who?"
"You really need to ask that question, Red?"
His nickname for her was the closest thing to a proclamation of love he'd ever uttered. He had told her once that she was red embodied, vibrant and alive. She knew without him saying in as many words, that it was what attracted him to her.
"I grew up surrounded by a culture of death," he'd said to her one night as they lay, spent, upon his sheets. "Life is an odd sort of idea for me. Freedom scares me. I think it takes far too much courage to be free. The death culture will always try to snuff out your freedom; even if that means taking your life. It's too hard to fight on your own."
She hadn't known what to say to him then, because she'd grown up with life practically embodied in her family. So many facets of joy and pain came with each member of her household.
"Fred died," she told him, still mostly numb to the fact, as she watched her brother Percy kneeling over his fallen brother's body. Her mother was beside him, weeping for her fallen son. Ginny's father, Bill, and Charlie were helping clean up and calm people as best they could. Yet the only emotion able to hold her was that horrible anxiety.
"I'm sorry."
Two words, that was all. He wasn't to blame for any of it, but a floodgate was opened by his empathy. Suddenly a wave of emotion hit her, and she began to sob. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so, he pulled her to him.
"Shh. It'll be okay. We made it through the worst of it, and together we'll survive the aftermath."
His words pierced through her fear with darts of hope.
"Do you mean that, Draco?"
"Why wouldn't I, Red? Who else is there for me if I'm not with you? Potter won. We are all 'just people' now, or so I'm sure he'll claim. That means that you and I can be together with no fear."
He sounded so calm, so assured. How was he able to hold his countenance so incredibly well in the midst of this? People were never going to accept them. And on top of that, she was going to hurt Harry. That twinge of panic threatened her again, but Draco's hand found hers and squeezed it gently, reassuring her.
The sun pierced over the castle and illumined the scene. Mist began to rise, and a slow hum seemed to start at the base of Ginny's spine.
"Do you feel that?" she asked the question wonderingly, certain that she was imagining this sensation of raw emotion.
"Yes," was all he said.
And then, in the midst of the tears of mourning, and tears of joy at survival being shed around them, he kissed her. The fear dissipated completely as their lips met, and as they broke apart they could hear someone singing. It was an old song, from the days of Merlin, sung after a battle. The words spoke to Ginny's heart, telling of fallen soldiers and hopeful lives that still remained.
Draco led her away then, and they returned once more to "their" place, his room. The past year had emphasized their differences; she had been an active voice of subversion and dissension, while he had relished his leadership role and the power it provided. They had exchanged insults and jinxes in the halls routinely, until one day they got carried away. In a moment of heated debate, he'd grabbed her wrist to keep her from striking him, pushing her into the wall. Having her pinned beneath him proved too much for his self-control, and he kissed her.
She'd kissed him right back, and thus began their furtive affair. Neither had ever felt so alive, and Ginny's panic attacks, which she'd suffered from since her first year, waned suddenly and inexplicably. They spent hours coupling upon his bed, and soon found themselves talking about everything from Quidditch, to life in general. They'd both fallen, hard, and no one had suspected. Except Blaise Zabini, who had taken it upon himself to test Draco by propositioning the fierce red-head. He'd barely walked away, and to this day wasn't sure which of the two had hexed him worse.
The memories of the year fell away as Draco opened the door and ushered her inside. Their lips crashed together in desperation, yet there was an underlying note of tenderness and sweetness. He removed her robes and shirt with ease, and gently nuzzled her neck as she fumbled with his robes. Soon they were both naked, and a renewed sense of desperation came over them.
"Prove to me that I'm alive and free, Draco," she pleaded, and he did his best to comply, parting her folds to kiss the small pearl of nerves hidden there. She sucked in her breath as his tongue laved her sensitive flesh, and she writhed as he slid a long, slender finger inside her. He looked up as she breathed his name, and then moved up her body, covering it with his own. Holding his torso above her with his arms, he settled himself at her slick opening. Ginny quivered in anticipation as they both waited. Then, as the moment waned, they began to move. Slowly. Slowly. Faster, and faster, until neither knew where he ended and she began.
"Oh Merlin," Ginny cried out, and Draco crushed the sound by pressing his lips to hers once more.
All too soon, yet an eternity later, they lay sated in each other's arms.
"Let's just stay here forever," Draco suggested, idly drawing circles around the freckles on her shoulders.
"Don't I just wish." Ginny sighed, rolling over.
"Are you scared then, Red?"
She nodded before speaking. "I fear I've betrayed Harry, somehow. All I feel when I see him is crushing panic," her voice fell to a whisper. "It's like the Chamber all over again."
"Ginevra," he said, "You haven't betrayed anyone. He left you behind, like a toy he'd return to if he was bored later. If anyone betrayed anyone, he betrayed you. I don't intend to feel bad for his stupidity."
She smiled at him then. "I still fear it, but I'm also a Gryffindor. So, best get it over with."
"Stubborn, righteous types, the lot of you," he teased as they dressed.
They walked into the Great Hall hand in hand, and were met with silence. Then, with a flash of black, Harry was standing before them, snapping at Ginny. The numbness and fear set the scene so far apart from her that she barely heard him. There her family sat, horrified expressions upon their faces at the scene playing out before them. There the Slytherins smirked at one of their own besting Harry Potter. Suddenly she crashed into herself and found herself struggling to breathe.
"... to protect you, and you betray me with Malfoy?"
Harry was shouting, and she'd never seen him so angry. Before she could catch her breath to respond, Draco had stepped in front of her protectively. Her breathing eased enough for her to draw a shaky breath.
"I suggest you not speak to Red that way, Potter. She has older brothers who quite like her and are willing to defend her honour. Besides, she's done nothing wrong. You broke up with her, you just said as much yourself."
"We broke up in word only, and she knew that. She betrayed me," Harry hissed, causing Ginny's chest to constrict again.
She looked about for something, anything to grab onto. The last thing she needed was to pass out from the panic that Harry might win. She was terrified that she might be destined to live a life meant for her, but not best for her, not truly suited to who she was. Draco was only seen as a Death Eater's son now, how could she have asked him to face down the Saviour of the Wizarding World?
"Look, Potter, I don't care what megalomaniac you just destroyed and saved the world from. Where I come from you don't speak to ladies that way. On top of that, 'betrayal' is a mighty heavy accusation. In order to betray you, she'd have had to belong to you, like some sort of property," Draco spoke calmly and evenly as his hand reached for Ginny's.
She stepped up beside him, and forced a regretful smile in Harry's direction.
Draco spoke again. "No matter how many times you save the world, Potter, Ginevra will always belong to no one but herself. If you're too stupid to accept that, and her..." Draco paused as he slipped an arm around the girl, drawing her nearer, "I'm more than willing to lay down my life to see that she, personally, has that freedom."
And in that moment and for the first time since her first year at Hogwarts, Ginevra Weasley was truly set free from her captivity.
Amazing, she thought, smiling at Draco, tears streaming down her face. Perhaps life can be a fairy tale after all. The hero just isn't who you expect him to be.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
What would you like to receive?
The tone/mood of the fic: Drama, passion - not fluff.
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: This quote doesn't have to be included, but I'd love to see a fic developed from it: "To betray you must first belong."
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: R/NC17
Canon or AU? Canon is fine, if it takes place pre-DH epilogue, but otherwise, AU is fine.
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): A fic where Ginny's married to Harry and cheating with Draco. Also: No receding hairlines - at least not on Draco!