What Is Left Unsaid
Title: What Is Left Unsaid
Author: sugareey
Rating: PG
Pairing Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1,336
Disclaimers: Not mine. However, I do have the duty to manipulate the characters.
Summary: The aftermath of war can certainly change you in unexpected ways.
Warning: MAJOR DH spoilers. Angst and lust.
A/N: This is for the awdt prompt of "How hard can it be?" for nocturnali and jamie2109. And yes, it's been freaking ages since I've written something legitimate. Please spare me if it's a bit rusty.
You think you can forget about everything after it happened. A war has just ended, and perhaps things are all right now. Things will continue the way they were before, except you don’t realise that has been destroyed. But you don’t expect things to get worse for you either. It does. There are people now who give me suspicious glares, their hushed whispers always following me. They talk, and I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. I do care what people say about me because most of it is just rumour. Just because I didn’t exactly fight doesn’t mean I had it easy. But I’m curious. What do you think about all this?
I haven’t seen you ever since that battle at Hogwarts, where you finally ended it for us. You should have seen the way you looked when you went up against him…it was just you and the Dark Lord. For a fleeting moment, I was sure he had some advantage over you. But then you spoke. You told him everything, about the wand and Snape. Who knew Snape would go through so much to just die like that, for a cause…and for you. He cared, whether you like to accept it or not. I should know, because as much as you think he favoured me, he did as much for me as he did for you. That was how Snape was. And that’s how I knew you would win, like always. You proved me right. And you did it with my wand.
I’m sure you have realised how much you have weakened me ever since you took my wand from me. I still have Mother’s, but I try to avoid using it too often. There isn’t much magic when I try to cast simple spells nowadays. It feels different. It’s not mine. But if you were so powerful to use mine, yours, and that other wand…you can practically do anything. You probably know that too. Maybe you’re showing off your powers to your friends, showing them what a big hero you are. Though, it surprises me that you aren’t in the Prophet much. I thought you loved being in the papers. I guess not.
Regardless, I hope you’re doing well. You’ve been through a lot. I know you won’t ever know this, but I’m sorry. I apologise for a lot of things…maybe for everything. War can teach you the truth, and probably everything I have assumed about you turned out to be blatant lies. But I do have to say…thank you. For saving my life. Not once, but twice. You didn’t have to do that. I was about finished everything when I found you lot in the Room of Hidden things, a place I wouldn’t think you would ever find. But you obviously knew how the Room of Requirement worked, so I’m not sure why I underestimated you.
You acted fast when we tried to get you. So did that Mudblood and Weasel. You all were trained well. I was trained to be strategic, though Crabbe and Goyle learned to be aggressive. That’s another thing I apologise for. I’m sorry they were trying to kill you. I may have that power to kill, but I wouldn’t use that on you. You probably think that’s crap, but know I was only to take you to the Dark Lord. And if I did catch you, you still would have had the chance to escape. I would have given you that much.
And that is the very thing that bothers me. If you had the chance to escape the fiendfyre, then why did you stall? Mudblood and Weasel were doing well enough to get themselves out as soon as possible. You didn’t have to come back. You already showed me how you felt, about everything and about me. I was almost relieved to give myself up, to let the flames consume me. They were closing in fast, and I know Crabbe must have been insane to even care. I was scared because you don’t expect to die so soon. But that chance came, and it could have taken me. Then you came up to me and offered your hand.
So why did I take it? Maybe I thought we could have a truce. Maybe it was because you were willing to save me, even though you hated me. You knew who I was, and who I served. But that didn’t stop you. You pulled me up just enough for me to swing a leg over the broomstick and wrap my arms around your waist. That was the most heated moment, did you know? There were chimaeras and dragons trying to eat us and here you were trying to go after a damn diadem. You could have killed us both, you idiot. You wouldn’t have risked so much though if the diadem wasn’t important, and I wasn’t going to ask about it either. I was too preoccupied…with other things.
It’s ironically humourous to think of all the people would love to have ridden on a broom with you. All the girls…and hell, even blokes! They would ask, “How hard can it be?” It would seem like a simple thing, to win a ride with the famous Harry Potter. But it was hard. You don’t know how hard it was for me, to expect to live through such a volatile ride and to enjoy it at the same time. That was all I was going to get from you. With your back pressed up against my chest, our thighs practically touching…can you imagine? Your arse was perched on the stick, of course, but you have no idea what I wanted to do. I could have pressed up against that as well, but I know you would not have appreciated that. So I tried to just lean against your back instead, because that was the safest thing to do. I hugged your waist so tightly because I was scared for my life, and I was scared you would find out. I couldn’t let that happen. It was what I could do without you trying to get the impression that I was feeling you up. But I wanted to.
Even long after you ran away to round up more people to fight, more people to save, it took me a few moments to run after you. I obviously wasn’t going to find you in all the rubble and debris, so I tried to fight. I luckily still had Mother’s wand with me, but it was only enough for basic spells. I couldn’t duel properly though, because you still had my wand. But I never put that against you. You managed to knock out that Death Eater who would have killed me. He knew…I’m sure he could see right through me. He knew I wanted to run. I did it once, so why not try again? But you know I didn’t run. I only stayed to watch out for you. To see you put an end to this whole mess.
Maybe I’ll never see you again. Maybe I will. If we do, can we talk? About all this? I haven’t said a word ever since it happened. Mother and Father worry because I hardly talk these days. There is no need to. They wouldn’t really understand. Most importantly, I do think we need to talk, that is, if you want to. We can do more than that, but that’s your choice. Perhaps not if you’re still infatuated with Weasel’s sister. Personally, I am appalled by your choice of women, and this is coming from a man…hopelessly infatuated with you.
The most I can do is hope that you’re happy. That is what matters most to me. If anyone asks me what I think of you though, I will say nothing. Only because there are too many words to describe you. And words aren’t even enough to say how amazing you are. You might not know it, but trust me, I do.
Author: sugareey
Rating: PG
Pairing Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1,336
Disclaimers: Not mine. However, I do have the duty to manipulate the characters.
Summary: The aftermath of war can certainly change you in unexpected ways.
Warning: MAJOR DH spoilers. Angst and lust.
A/N: This is for the awdt prompt of "How hard can it be?" for nocturnali and jamie2109. And yes, it's been freaking ages since I've written something legitimate. Please spare me if it's a bit rusty.
You think you can forget about everything after it happened. A war has just ended, and perhaps things are all right now. Things will continue the way they were before, except you don’t realise that has been destroyed. But you don’t expect things to get worse for you either. It does. There are people now who give me suspicious glares, their hushed whispers always following me. They talk, and I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. I do care what people say about me because most of it is just rumour. Just because I didn’t exactly fight doesn’t mean I had it easy. But I’m curious. What do you think about all this?
I haven’t seen you ever since that battle at Hogwarts, where you finally ended it for us. You should have seen the way you looked when you went up against him…it was just you and the Dark Lord. For a fleeting moment, I was sure he had some advantage over you. But then you spoke. You told him everything, about the wand and Snape. Who knew Snape would go through so much to just die like that, for a cause…and for you. He cared, whether you like to accept it or not. I should know, because as much as you think he favoured me, he did as much for me as he did for you. That was how Snape was. And that’s how I knew you would win, like always. You proved me right. And you did it with my wand.
I’m sure you have realised how much you have weakened me ever since you took my wand from me. I still have Mother’s, but I try to avoid using it too often. There isn’t much magic when I try to cast simple spells nowadays. It feels different. It’s not mine. But if you were so powerful to use mine, yours, and that other wand…you can practically do anything. You probably know that too. Maybe you’re showing off your powers to your friends, showing them what a big hero you are. Though, it surprises me that you aren’t in the Prophet much. I thought you loved being in the papers. I guess not.
Regardless, I hope you’re doing well. You’ve been through a lot. I know you won’t ever know this, but I’m sorry. I apologise for a lot of things…maybe for everything. War can teach you the truth, and probably everything I have assumed about you turned out to be blatant lies. But I do have to say…thank you. For saving my life. Not once, but twice. You didn’t have to do that. I was about finished everything when I found you lot in the Room of Hidden things, a place I wouldn’t think you would ever find. But you obviously knew how the Room of Requirement worked, so I’m not sure why I underestimated you.
You acted fast when we tried to get you. So did that Mudblood and Weasel. You all were trained well. I was trained to be strategic, though Crabbe and Goyle learned to be aggressive. That’s another thing I apologise for. I’m sorry they were trying to kill you. I may have that power to kill, but I wouldn’t use that on you. You probably think that’s crap, but know I was only to take you to the Dark Lord. And if I did catch you, you still would have had the chance to escape. I would have given you that much.
And that is the very thing that bothers me. If you had the chance to escape the fiendfyre, then why did you stall? Mudblood and Weasel were doing well enough to get themselves out as soon as possible. You didn’t have to come back. You already showed me how you felt, about everything and about me. I was almost relieved to give myself up, to let the flames consume me. They were closing in fast, and I know Crabbe must have been insane to even care. I was scared because you don’t expect to die so soon. But that chance came, and it could have taken me. Then you came up to me and offered your hand.
So why did I take it? Maybe I thought we could have a truce. Maybe it was because you were willing to save me, even though you hated me. You knew who I was, and who I served. But that didn’t stop you. You pulled me up just enough for me to swing a leg over the broomstick and wrap my arms around your waist. That was the most heated moment, did you know? There were chimaeras and dragons trying to eat us and here you were trying to go after a damn diadem. You could have killed us both, you idiot. You wouldn’t have risked so much though if the diadem wasn’t important, and I wasn’t going to ask about it either. I was too preoccupied…with other things.
It’s ironically humourous to think of all the people would love to have ridden on a broom with you. All the girls…and hell, even blokes! They would ask, “How hard can it be?” It would seem like a simple thing, to win a ride with the famous Harry Potter. But it was hard. You don’t know how hard it was for me, to expect to live through such a volatile ride and to enjoy it at the same time. That was all I was going to get from you. With your back pressed up against my chest, our thighs practically touching…can you imagine? Your arse was perched on the stick, of course, but you have no idea what I wanted to do. I could have pressed up against that as well, but I know you would not have appreciated that. So I tried to just lean against your back instead, because that was the safest thing to do. I hugged your waist so tightly because I was scared for my life, and I was scared you would find out. I couldn’t let that happen. It was what I could do without you trying to get the impression that I was feeling you up. But I wanted to.
Even long after you ran away to round up more people to fight, more people to save, it took me a few moments to run after you. I obviously wasn’t going to find you in all the rubble and debris, so I tried to fight. I luckily still had Mother’s wand with me, but it was only enough for basic spells. I couldn’t duel properly though, because you still had my wand. But I never put that against you. You managed to knock out that Death Eater who would have killed me. He knew…I’m sure he could see right through me. He knew I wanted to run. I did it once, so why not try again? But you know I didn’t run. I only stayed to watch out for you. To see you put an end to this whole mess.
Maybe I’ll never see you again. Maybe I will. If we do, can we talk? About all this? I haven’t said a word ever since it happened. Mother and Father worry because I hardly talk these days. There is no need to. They wouldn’t really understand. Most importantly, I do think we need to talk, that is, if you want to. We can do more than that, but that’s your choice. Perhaps not if you’re still infatuated with Weasel’s sister. Personally, I am appalled by your choice of women, and this is coming from a man…hopelessly infatuated with you.
The most I can do is hope that you’re happy. That is what matters most to me. If anyone asks me what I think of you though, I will say nothing. Only because there are too many words to describe you. And words aren’t even enough to say how amazing you are. You might not know it, but trust me, I do.