"Dry" - Draco/Ginny, G
CHALLENGE NUMBER - 1
USERNAME - faire_weather
TITLE - Dry
RATING - G
WARNINGS - Possible insanity.
LENGTH - 498
PAIRING - Draco/Ginny
SUMMARY - Sometimes, Draco wishes it would rain.
--
Pansy has looked at Draco sadly eleven times in the past hour.
He has ignored her every time because if he doesn’t, he is afraid that he would look up at her, and she would see just how crazy he is. By his count, he has been mad for seven weeks.
It’s April, but it rarely rains at Hogwarts in the springtime. Sometimes, Draco wonders why that is-maybe the headmaster has charmed the castle to repel rain. Draco doesn’t know. He does know that he skips meals to sit out on the grounds in a water-proofed cloak, hoping that it will rain.
“You should eat,” Pansy murmurs.
Draco doesn’t respond. She isn’t really talking to him, he knows. It’s the madness, and he doesn’t talk back to the voices in his head-anymore. Draco turns to look at Pansy, notices that she’s looking at him sadly again, and leaves the Great Hall.
Sometimes, he wishes that someone would just talk to him. No one has spoken to him in seven weeks. He thinks he might be going crazy.
Draco sits down on the-dry-grass facing the-dry-lake and wonders how in the world a lake could be dry. But this one is-it’s full of water, of course, but the water is still, and he thinks that if he were to jump in and swim around, it would be like swimming in quicksand.
It is not hot-it is not cold, but it is not comfortable, either. Draco looks up at the sky and scowls because it has been grey for months, and it still won’t rain.
He renews the charms on his water-proofed cloak and goes inside.
--
Someone else goes mad when Draco has been crazy for thirteen weeks. He doesn’t realize it until he gets a letter from his mother-that doesn’t say anything-and scowls. He wishes his mother would stop sending him blank parchment all the time. When he looks up, he sees the littlest Weasel across the hall, and even from the distance, knows that her eyes and lips are dry.
“I wish you would talk to me,” Pansy says.
Draco looks over at her and doesn’t respond. Sometimes he wishes that someone would just talk to him. Potter says something undoubtedly witty, and the littlest Weasel leaves the hall.
Draco happens to look up at the ceiling of the Great Hall just before he heads outside and notes vaguely that there is lighting. The sky is almost black.
Outside, the littlest Weasel is sitting on the front steps with soaking wet hair and soaking wet clothes. Draco sits next to her and absently pushes wet hair out of his face. Everything feels so dry, and he wishes it would rain.
“What are you doing here?” he asks-thinks.
The littlest Weasel shrugs. “Sometimes, I just wish it would rain,” she says. “It’s so dry.”
Something wet splatters persistently on his face and Draco nods appreciatively. Finally, someone who understands.
--
Never thought I'd write this pairing, but it was a prompt for hp_expertus and I figured I'd give it a shot since it was only 500 words.
USERNAME - faire_weather
TITLE - Dry
RATING - G
WARNINGS - Possible insanity.
LENGTH - 498
PAIRING - Draco/Ginny
SUMMARY - Sometimes, Draco wishes it would rain.
--
Pansy has looked at Draco sadly eleven times in the past hour.
He has ignored her every time because if he doesn’t, he is afraid that he would look up at her, and she would see just how crazy he is. By his count, he has been mad for seven weeks.
It’s April, but it rarely rains at Hogwarts in the springtime. Sometimes, Draco wonders why that is-maybe the headmaster has charmed the castle to repel rain. Draco doesn’t know. He does know that he skips meals to sit out on the grounds in a water-proofed cloak, hoping that it will rain.
“You should eat,” Pansy murmurs.
Draco doesn’t respond. She isn’t really talking to him, he knows. It’s the madness, and he doesn’t talk back to the voices in his head-anymore. Draco turns to look at Pansy, notices that she’s looking at him sadly again, and leaves the Great Hall.
Sometimes, he wishes that someone would just talk to him. No one has spoken to him in seven weeks. He thinks he might be going crazy.
Draco sits down on the-dry-grass facing the-dry-lake and wonders how in the world a lake could be dry. But this one is-it’s full of water, of course, but the water is still, and he thinks that if he were to jump in and swim around, it would be like swimming in quicksand.
It is not hot-it is not cold, but it is not comfortable, either. Draco looks up at the sky and scowls because it has been grey for months, and it still won’t rain.
He renews the charms on his water-proofed cloak and goes inside.
--
Someone else goes mad when Draco has been crazy for thirteen weeks. He doesn’t realize it until he gets a letter from his mother-that doesn’t say anything-and scowls. He wishes his mother would stop sending him blank parchment all the time. When he looks up, he sees the littlest Weasel across the hall, and even from the distance, knows that her eyes and lips are dry.
“I wish you would talk to me,” Pansy says.
Draco looks over at her and doesn’t respond. Sometimes he wishes that someone would just talk to him. Potter says something undoubtedly witty, and the littlest Weasel leaves the hall.
Draco happens to look up at the ceiling of the Great Hall just before he heads outside and notes vaguely that there is lighting. The sky is almost black.
Outside, the littlest Weasel is sitting on the front steps with soaking wet hair and soaking wet clothes. Draco sits next to her and absently pushes wet hair out of his face. Everything feels so dry, and he wishes it would rain.
“What are you doing here?” he asks-thinks.
The littlest Weasel shrugs. “Sometimes, I just wish it would rain,” she says. “It’s so dry.”
Something wet splatters persistently on his face and Draco nods appreciatively. Finally, someone who understands.
--
Never thought I'd write this pairing, but it was a prompt for hp_expertus and I figured I'd give it a shot since it was only 500 words.