Harry Potter, "Song of Perfection" Draco-centric
Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Song of Perfection
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: PG
Characters: The Malfoys
Word Count: 340
Spoilers: None
Summary: All he needed was to hear that graceful music pouring from his mother’s heart, signifying her elegant talent - then he knew he had nothing to fear. Everything would be fine.
Song of Perfection
When he was small, music would filter through the halls of the mansion and caress his ears with its sweet, flowing notes. He would close his eyes and let it wash over him, and he would feel the pride and precision of the score, reminding him of who he was and what he was.
His family was pure, just like the handling of the notes from his mother’s finger tips.
His family was beautiful, with hauntingly glass features and prideful poise just like the endless sonata filtering his home.
And in that purity, he felt proud and most of all safe, that nothing or no one could touch them - that they’d be like this forever. And when his parents’ time was over, his children would carry on that great purity, that wholesome magical perfection.
All he needed was to hear that graceful music pouring from his mother’s heart, signifying her elegant talent - then he knew he had nothing to fear. Everything would be fine.
But young Draco never knew that with his father’s nobility and pride seeped in darkness, something so terrible it feigned greatness and only produced hatred and fear.
With such taint, older Draco learned that everything he was ever taught and raised to believe in was not perfect - and was not invulnerable to failure and terror.
And the last time he walked the halls of that once magnificent mansion, the rubble and ominous air had siphoned his once youthful ease. In his now broken home, he surveyed the destruction from a war he would have never perceived to have happen when he was young. Draco would have never known as a young boy that he’d be walking the halls of his abandoned home, very much a casualty of war just like his poised, talented mother.
Sadness overwhelmed him, and when he closed his eyes to feel the comfort of the music of his memories, silence bit harshly into the charred air. Then, he could no longer hear that comfortable music of purity and grace.
Title: Song of Perfection
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: PG
Characters: The Malfoys
Word Count: 340
Spoilers: None
Summary: All he needed was to hear that graceful music pouring from his mother’s heart, signifying her elegant talent - then he knew he had nothing to fear. Everything would be fine.
Song of Perfection
When he was small, music would filter through the halls of the mansion and caress his ears with its sweet, flowing notes. He would close his eyes and let it wash over him, and he would feel the pride and precision of the score, reminding him of who he was and what he was.
His family was pure, just like the handling of the notes from his mother’s finger tips.
His family was beautiful, with hauntingly glass features and prideful poise just like the endless sonata filtering his home.
And in that purity, he felt proud and most of all safe, that nothing or no one could touch them - that they’d be like this forever. And when his parents’ time was over, his children would carry on that great purity, that wholesome magical perfection.
All he needed was to hear that graceful music pouring from his mother’s heart, signifying her elegant talent - then he knew he had nothing to fear. Everything would be fine.
But young Draco never knew that with his father’s nobility and pride seeped in darkness, something so terrible it feigned greatness and only produced hatred and fear.
With such taint, older Draco learned that everything he was ever taught and raised to believe in was not perfect - and was not invulnerable to failure and terror.
And the last time he walked the halls of that once magnificent mansion, the rubble and ominous air had siphoned his once youthful ease. In his now broken home, he surveyed the destruction from a war he would have never perceived to have happen when he was young. Draco would have never known as a young boy that he’d be walking the halls of his abandoned home, very much a casualty of war just like his poised, talented mother.
Sadness overwhelmed him, and when he closed his eyes to feel the comfort of the music of his memories, silence bit harshly into the charred air. Then, he could no longer hear that comfortable music of purity and grace.