A Lesson Learned in War
Title: A Lesson Learned in War
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 100 each
Author's Notes: A three-part drabble series, posted at hd100 for the "Whisper" challenge, but written before that. Takes place during the war, and not explicitly stated where, while Draco is still in exile. A dialogue-only.
“How is this possible, Potter?” Questioning smirk.
“How is what possible?”
“This.” Pause. “Us.”
Suddenly serious, “How do you mean?”
“I’m a Death Eater, Potter, and you’re…well, you’re Harry Potter.”
Concerned glance, hesitant movements.
“Of all the people I can’t be in love with, you’re it.” Smile. “But I do, Potter. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Malfoy.” Shrug. “Which I suppose is just as weird. I’m Harry Potter; you’re a Death Eater.” Serious smile. “You’re the person I shouldn’t be falling in love with, either.”
Playful smile. “But you do.”
Returned one. “Love you?”
Arrogant nod.
Sigh. “Yes.”
***
“Have you ever realized we’re exactly the same?”
Raised eyebrow. “No, Potter, because we’re not.”
“No, no. I mean, like the same positions on opposite sides of this war.”
Unreadable glance. “I’m not as important as you.” Diverted eyes, fingers wrapping idly in the sheets.
“I’m the last death, but you were the first. We seventeen, Malfoy, and we have pivotal parts in this war.”
“In your war.”
Questioning glance.
“You’ve been in it longer than me. Plus, you stopped it the first time.”
“But I don’t know if I can stop it again.”
Grasped hands, gentle kiss. “You will.”
***
“You’ll go to Azkaban, you know.”
Motionless stare, calm breaths. “My father would kill me first.”
“He wouldn’t kill you.”
Pause. “My aunt would.”
“Bellatrix?”
Curt nod. “Yes.”
“Voldemort-”
Shudder.
“-almost killed Neville instead of me.”
Turn of the head. “But you’re a half blood, not as pure….”
Grimly, “More powerful, though.”
“Yes, I guess you are.”
“Voldemort-”
“Stop.”
“-thought I was. Probably because he’s one, too. Less pure than me, actually.”
“You’re lying. Potter, you’re lying.”
Whispered, glittering eyes. “No, I’m not.”
Strained silence.
“The last heir of Slytherin fell in love with a Muggle.”
And now the uncut.
Word count: 121, 114, 117 respectively.
“How is this possible, Potter?” A questioning smirk.
“How is what possible?”
“This.” A pause. “Us.”
Suddenly serious, “How do you mean?”
“I’m a Death Eater, Potter, and you’re…well, you’re Harry Potter.”
A concerned glance, hesitant movements towards Draco’s hand.
“Of all the people I shouldn’t have-I can’t-fall in love with, you’re it.” A smile. “But I do, Potter. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Malfoy.” A shrug. “Which I suppose is just as weird. I’m Harry Potter; you’re a Death Eater.” A serious smile. “You’re up there on the list of people I shouldn’t be falling in love with, either.”
A playful smile. “But you do.”
A returned one. “Love you?”
An arrogant nod.
A sigh. “Yes.”
***
“Have you ever realized we’re exactly the same?”
A raised eyebrow. “No, Potter, because we’re not.”
“No, no. I mean, like the same positions on opposite sides of this war.”
Furrowed eyebrows, closed eyes. “I’m not as important as you.” Diverted eyes, fingers wrapping idly in the sheets.
“I’m just the last death, but you were the first. We seventeen, Malfoy, and we have pivotal parts in this war.”
“In your war.”
A questioning glance.
“You’ve been in it longer than me. You’ve already affected it; you practically started it. Plus, you stopped it the first time.”
“But I don’t know if I can stop it again.”
Grasped hands, a gentle kiss. “You will.”
***
“You’ll go to Azkaban, you know.”
A motionless stare, heavy breaths. “My father would kill me.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
A pause. “Maybe not, but my aunt would.”
“Bellatrix?”
A nod of the head. “Yes.”
“Voldemort-” A shudder. “-almost killed Neville instead of me, you know.”
A quick turn of the head. “But you’re a half blood, you’re not as pure….”
Grimly, “More powerful, though.”
“Yes, I guess you are.”
“Voldemort-”
“Stop.”
“-thought I was.”
An incredulous pause.
“Probably because he’s one, too. Less pure than me, actually.”
“You’re lying. Potter, you’re lying.”
Whispered, glittering eyes. “No, I’m not.”
A strained silence.
“The last heir of Slytherin fell in love with a magic-despising Muggle.”
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 100 each
Author's Notes: A three-part drabble series, posted at hd100 for the "Whisper" challenge, but written before that. Takes place during the war, and not explicitly stated where, while Draco is still in exile. A dialogue-only.
“How is this possible, Potter?” Questioning smirk.
“How is what possible?”
“This.” Pause. “Us.”
Suddenly serious, “How do you mean?”
“I’m a Death Eater, Potter, and you’re…well, you’re Harry Potter.”
Concerned glance, hesitant movements.
“Of all the people I can’t be in love with, you’re it.” Smile. “But I do, Potter. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Malfoy.” Shrug. “Which I suppose is just as weird. I’m Harry Potter; you’re a Death Eater.” Serious smile. “You’re the person I shouldn’t be falling in love with, either.”
Playful smile. “But you do.”
Returned one. “Love you?”
Arrogant nod.
Sigh. “Yes.”
***
“Have you ever realized we’re exactly the same?”
Raised eyebrow. “No, Potter, because we’re not.”
“No, no. I mean, like the same positions on opposite sides of this war.”
Unreadable glance. “I’m not as important as you.” Diverted eyes, fingers wrapping idly in the sheets.
“I’m the last death, but you were the first. We seventeen, Malfoy, and we have pivotal parts in this war.”
“In your war.”
Questioning glance.
“You’ve been in it longer than me. Plus, you stopped it the first time.”
“But I don’t know if I can stop it again.”
Grasped hands, gentle kiss. “You will.”
***
“You’ll go to Azkaban, you know.”
Motionless stare, calm breaths. “My father would kill me first.”
“He wouldn’t kill you.”
Pause. “My aunt would.”
“Bellatrix?”
Curt nod. “Yes.”
“Voldemort-”
Shudder.
“-almost killed Neville instead of me.”
Turn of the head. “But you’re a half blood, not as pure….”
Grimly, “More powerful, though.”
“Yes, I guess you are.”
“Voldemort-”
“Stop.”
“-thought I was. Probably because he’s one, too. Less pure than me, actually.”
“You’re lying. Potter, you’re lying.”
Whispered, glittering eyes. “No, I’m not.”
Strained silence.
“The last heir of Slytherin fell in love with a Muggle.”
And now the uncut.
Word count: 121, 114, 117 respectively.
“How is this possible, Potter?” A questioning smirk.
“How is what possible?”
“This.” A pause. “Us.”
Suddenly serious, “How do you mean?”
“I’m a Death Eater, Potter, and you’re…well, you’re Harry Potter.”
A concerned glance, hesitant movements towards Draco’s hand.
“Of all the people I shouldn’t have-I can’t-fall in love with, you’re it.” A smile. “But I do, Potter. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Malfoy.” A shrug. “Which I suppose is just as weird. I’m Harry Potter; you’re a Death Eater.” A serious smile. “You’re up there on the list of people I shouldn’t be falling in love with, either.”
A playful smile. “But you do.”
A returned one. “Love you?”
An arrogant nod.
A sigh. “Yes.”
***
“Have you ever realized we’re exactly the same?”
A raised eyebrow. “No, Potter, because we’re not.”
“No, no. I mean, like the same positions on opposite sides of this war.”
Furrowed eyebrows, closed eyes. “I’m not as important as you.” Diverted eyes, fingers wrapping idly in the sheets.
“I’m just the last death, but you were the first. We seventeen, Malfoy, and we have pivotal parts in this war.”
“In your war.”
A questioning glance.
“You’ve been in it longer than me. You’ve already affected it; you practically started it. Plus, you stopped it the first time.”
“But I don’t know if I can stop it again.”
Grasped hands, a gentle kiss. “You will.”
***
“You’ll go to Azkaban, you know.”
A motionless stare, heavy breaths. “My father would kill me.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
A pause. “Maybe not, but my aunt would.”
“Bellatrix?”
A nod of the head. “Yes.”
“Voldemort-” A shudder. “-almost killed Neville instead of me, you know.”
A quick turn of the head. “But you’re a half blood, you’re not as pure….”
Grimly, “More powerful, though.”
“Yes, I guess you are.”
“Voldemort-”
“Stop.”
“-thought I was.”
An incredulous pause.
“Probably because he’s one, too. Less pure than me, actually.”
“You’re lying. Potter, you’re lying.”
Whispered, glittering eyes. “No, I’m not.”
A strained silence.
“The last heir of Slytherin fell in love with a magic-despising Muggle.”