(no subject)
[mood| 
enraged]
[music| From Autumn To Ashes - Autumns Monologue]
Title: Metal Heart
Rating: R, will be N17 in future
Pairings/Characters: Draco/OC, Fred/OC, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, George
Word Count: 1,074
Summery: He needed a war hero. So she returned back to a world that was nothing like how she left it.
Spoilers: This takes place after Deathly Hallows, nearly a year or so afterwards. It's not exactly AU, it's just expanding on a world we don't see much of. (Brief epilogue anyone?)
Warnings: Language and probably substance abuse. My versions of the characters may seem a little OOC but that's because it's after a war, a lot would have happened that would have changed them emotionally, they are probably all still adjusting.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or it's various characters, locations or anything else the wonderful J.K has bestowed upon us. Nor do I own the lyrics to "Crosses" by Jose Gonzalez. I only own Ella and any other random original character I chuck in.
Chapter Two: Please Understand.
People staring, they know you’ve been broken
Repeatedly reminded by the looks on their faces
She loves classical music but tonight she’s not in the mood for it. The barman doesn’t know how to make a Fruit Tingle, so she gets behind the bar and does it herself. She wants something heavier, both in music and in alcoholic beverage. Something heavier, trashier and more Muggle-like.
Something tacky like Snake Bites at a thrash metal gig.
She feels his hand on her back before she releases he’s there.
“You’ve been quite impressive. I’ve heard the Minister has already offered you a job?”
“Yes. I believe it was as the foreign diplomat to Australia. Not quite as prestigious as the French diplomat job, I believe.”
He puffed out his chest at that. “Naturally, the Malfoys’ always get the most grueling of positions.”
She giggled seductively, and whispered in a low voice, “So you’re truly as versatile as all those women claim you to be?”
His eyes smolder as he turns to face her, those grey eyes burning like hot coals. His voice is a low as hers when he replies. “I could prove it to you if you like.”
“Your room. In an hour. I’ll bring the leather, whip and chains.” She replies.
She can’t the stop the smirk that emerges as she walks away.
*****
“Hermione Granger.” The bushy haired girl attacks her outside the ladies bathroom. Hermione has her hand stuck out firmly and Ella reluctantly grasps at it with her own and they shake.
“I can’t believe I don’t remember you from Hogwarts.” She continues.
“I was a year older than you.”
“I was advanced.”
“I was a Slytherin.”
“I was for house unity.”
“I hung out with the Ravenclaws.”
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.”
“I made point of not being noticed.”
“Ohh.”
“Little disappointing for a War Hero, huh? But I guess that’s what gave me an edge out there. But here I am blabbering about me when I’m talking to real War Hero. What was it like? I bet you saw some amazing stuff.”
Hermione clams up. Just like Ella expected her too. No one like’s talking about the war. They celebrate their heroes. Mention all the wonderful things they did for the community but no one likes to talk about the actually war. Not even Draco.
Ella conceded to Hermione’s assault. “If you really want to know about my Hogwarts days, Colin Creevey has some pretty amazing photos.”
The bushy haired girl blinks in wide mouthed shock, she looks a bit like a goldfish but since they’d already gotten off to such a smashing start Ella doesn’t mention it.
“You don’t know.” Hermione breathes.
“Know what?” Ella retorts bitterly.
“Colin Creevey died. At the battle of Hogwarts.”
Ella froze. The little Creevey munchkin dead? No, she hadn’t known that. She should just add it to the list of things that she never knew. She swallowed, trying to remove the lump in her throat.
“Who else?”
“Sorry.”
Ella looks up, impatient, “If you hadn’t noticed no one talks about the war, not in the reality of it anyway. God… if I wanted anything from bloody Draco I’d have to ply out his teeth he’s that tight lipped about the bloody thing. Who else died?”
“Well… Colin Creevey,” She begins reluctantly, “Remus Lupin.”
“Defense Against the Dark Arts. I remember. The Werewolf.”
“Tonks, err, Nymphdora Tonks she was an Auror… err… Mad-Eye Moody, another Auror… and um Fred Weasley.”
“Fred Weasley?”
“Yeah.”
“Fred Weasley’s dead?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God.”
“You were friends with the twins?”
Ella blinks then. Too much. Cover up. She felt like her soul had been exposed. No, not a good feeling. Not at all. In her mind she scrambles to reassemble the metal plates protecting her heart.
“No… no…not really. I mean I knew them. Who didn’t? They were legends in their own lunchboxes, weren’t they?”
Hermione blinks at her. She knew that Fred, of all the people they had seen pass away, seemed to be the one that lingered and made them grieve longer. She thought the Weasley family would go insane with their grief. So all consuming it had been, and still remained.
The orchestra located on a stage near the far end of the ballroom struck up with Vivaldi’s ‘Autumn’. Ella’s head spun.
“I have to go dance with Draco now.”
It was the most pathetic excuse that she had ever given to anyone, the Ella at Hogwarts who have chastised her and tried to make more of an effort. She can feel her whole body trembling as she strode across the dance floor and yanked Draco from the sideline’s on to it.
“Whoa!”
They settled into a comfortable waltz.
“Are you okay?” He asks. Sliding his palm under her chin to lift her face up to his, her eyes are bloodshot. Piercing. Her lips set into a hard line. He can feel her body tremble underneath the dress.
“You never told me Fred Weasley was dead.”
He knows her for being blunt. It’s something he loves about her. Her sharp cynical sarcasm and her blunt delivery. It was probably the entire reason why she was dumped in Slytherin when according to all the other Slytherins, she would have been better off in Ravenclaw.
“I assumed you knew.”
“I was undercover. Do you think I kept up with the Daily Prophet while traipsing around the Australian Outback?”
He holds her steady as they whirl around the shiny marble floor, but can’t reply. He takes too much for granted he knows. Her presence, of course. One of the few people who had actually continued contact. He, like her, had become an outcast of somewhat. No true friends, only allies and enemies.
“What about his brother? Is the joke shop still in Diagon Alley?”
“It’s a Weasley, Ella. Why do you care?”
Her nail’s bit into his hands. “You know why. Is the joke shop still there?”
“It hasn’t been open since the war. But yes, it’s still there.”
She let’s go of his hand abruptly.
“I guess this means no kinky sex later?” He mutters.
“You know, for once, you’re right.”
She’s up the stairs in that silver dress before he can really process what happened. On his hand are the crescent dents of her fingernails, a physical mark of her presence. The heat the rose through his body was the emotional mark.
enraged]
[music| From Autumn To Ashes - Autumns Monologue]
Title: Metal Heart
Rating: R, will be N17 in future
Pairings/Characters: Draco/OC, Fred/OC, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, George
Word Count: 1,074
Summery: He needed a war hero. So she returned back to a world that was nothing like how she left it.
Spoilers: This takes place after Deathly Hallows, nearly a year or so afterwards. It's not exactly AU, it's just expanding on a world we don't see much of. (Brief epilogue anyone?)
Warnings: Language and probably substance abuse. My versions of the characters may seem a little OOC but that's because it's after a war, a lot would have happened that would have changed them emotionally, they are probably all still adjusting.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or it's various characters, locations or anything else the wonderful J.K has bestowed upon us. Nor do I own the lyrics to "Crosses" by Jose Gonzalez. I only own Ella and any other random original character I chuck in.
Chapter Two: Please Understand.
People staring, they know you’ve been broken
Repeatedly reminded by the looks on their faces
She loves classical music but tonight she’s not in the mood for it. The barman doesn’t know how to make a Fruit Tingle, so she gets behind the bar and does it herself. She wants something heavier, both in music and in alcoholic beverage. Something heavier, trashier and more Muggle-like.
Something tacky like Snake Bites at a thrash metal gig.
She feels his hand on her back before she releases he’s there.
“You’ve been quite impressive. I’ve heard the Minister has already offered you a job?”
“Yes. I believe it was as the foreign diplomat to Australia. Not quite as prestigious as the French diplomat job, I believe.”
He puffed out his chest at that. “Naturally, the Malfoys’ always get the most grueling of positions.”
She giggled seductively, and whispered in a low voice, “So you’re truly as versatile as all those women claim you to be?”
His eyes smolder as he turns to face her, those grey eyes burning like hot coals. His voice is a low as hers when he replies. “I could prove it to you if you like.”
“Your room. In an hour. I’ll bring the leather, whip and chains.” She replies.
She can’t the stop the smirk that emerges as she walks away.
*****
“Hermione Granger.” The bushy haired girl attacks her outside the ladies bathroom. Hermione has her hand stuck out firmly and Ella reluctantly grasps at it with her own and they shake.
“I can’t believe I don’t remember you from Hogwarts.” She continues.
“I was a year older than you.”
“I was advanced.”
“I was a Slytherin.”
“I was for house unity.”
“I hung out with the Ravenclaws.”
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.”
“I made point of not being noticed.”
“Ohh.”
“Little disappointing for a War Hero, huh? But I guess that’s what gave me an edge out there. But here I am blabbering about me when I’m talking to real War Hero. What was it like? I bet you saw some amazing stuff.”
Hermione clams up. Just like Ella expected her too. No one like’s talking about the war. They celebrate their heroes. Mention all the wonderful things they did for the community but no one likes to talk about the actually war. Not even Draco.
Ella conceded to Hermione’s assault. “If you really want to know about my Hogwarts days, Colin Creevey has some pretty amazing photos.”
The bushy haired girl blinks in wide mouthed shock, she looks a bit like a goldfish but since they’d already gotten off to such a smashing start Ella doesn’t mention it.
“You don’t know.” Hermione breathes.
“Know what?” Ella retorts bitterly.
“Colin Creevey died. At the battle of Hogwarts.”
Ella froze. The little Creevey munchkin dead? No, she hadn’t known that. She should just add it to the list of things that she never knew. She swallowed, trying to remove the lump in her throat.
“Who else?”
“Sorry.”
Ella looks up, impatient, “If you hadn’t noticed no one talks about the war, not in the reality of it anyway. God… if I wanted anything from bloody Draco I’d have to ply out his teeth he’s that tight lipped about the bloody thing. Who else died?”
“Well… Colin Creevey,” She begins reluctantly, “Remus Lupin.”
“Defense Against the Dark Arts. I remember. The Werewolf.”
“Tonks, err, Nymphdora Tonks she was an Auror… err… Mad-Eye Moody, another Auror… and um Fred Weasley.”
“Fred Weasley?”
“Yeah.”
“Fred Weasley’s dead?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God.”
“You were friends with the twins?”
Ella blinks then. Too much. Cover up. She felt like her soul had been exposed. No, not a good feeling. Not at all. In her mind she scrambles to reassemble the metal plates protecting her heart.
“No… no…not really. I mean I knew them. Who didn’t? They were legends in their own lunchboxes, weren’t they?”
Hermione blinks at her. She knew that Fred, of all the people they had seen pass away, seemed to be the one that lingered and made them grieve longer. She thought the Weasley family would go insane with their grief. So all consuming it had been, and still remained.
The orchestra located on a stage near the far end of the ballroom struck up with Vivaldi’s ‘Autumn’. Ella’s head spun.
“I have to go dance with Draco now.”
It was the most pathetic excuse that she had ever given to anyone, the Ella at Hogwarts who have chastised her and tried to make more of an effort. She can feel her whole body trembling as she strode across the dance floor and yanked Draco from the sideline’s on to it.
“Whoa!”
They settled into a comfortable waltz.
“Are you okay?” He asks. Sliding his palm under her chin to lift her face up to his, her eyes are bloodshot. Piercing. Her lips set into a hard line. He can feel her body tremble underneath the dress.
“You never told me Fred Weasley was dead.”
He knows her for being blunt. It’s something he loves about her. Her sharp cynical sarcasm and her blunt delivery. It was probably the entire reason why she was dumped in Slytherin when according to all the other Slytherins, she would have been better off in Ravenclaw.
“I assumed you knew.”
“I was undercover. Do you think I kept up with the Daily Prophet while traipsing around the Australian Outback?”
He holds her steady as they whirl around the shiny marble floor, but can’t reply. He takes too much for granted he knows. Her presence, of course. One of the few people who had actually continued contact. He, like her, had become an outcast of somewhat. No true friends, only allies and enemies.
“What about his brother? Is the joke shop still in Diagon Alley?”
“It’s a Weasley, Ella. Why do you care?”
Her nail’s bit into his hands. “You know why. Is the joke shop still there?”
“It hasn’t been open since the war. But yes, it’s still there.”
She let’s go of his hand abruptly.
“I guess this means no kinky sex later?” He mutters.
“You know, for once, you’re right.”
She’s up the stairs in that silver dress before he can really process what happened. On his hand are the crescent dents of her fingernails, a physical mark of her presence. The heat the rose through his body was the emotional mark.