(no subject)
Title: Same
Genre: Angst / Humor
Disclaimer: I no ka-ching. You no ka-boom.
Summary: We are all the same.
The first thing Harry Potter thought when he saw Draco Malfoy was the thought that he hated him more than he had hated anyone in his whole life. More that his Uncle Vernon, or Aunt Petunia, or that bastard child of theirs. Yes, he hated Draco Malfoy more than his hate for all three of them combined. This, he was sure.
He hated the way he shook his hair from his face. He hated the way he casually offered his hand and smoothly retracted it. He hated the sharp angle cheek bones and cold icy eyes that belonged to him. He hated Draco's moon-white complexion, his slender form, his quick wit.
[ "Ron, help me write a Valentine to Cho.
" Make it say how much I lover her eyes.
" Oh, and her athletic figure.
" And her broomstick." ]
Draco laughed.
[ "I can help you with that, Potter.
"Dear Cho,
"I love your eyes, your figure.
"And that little thing
"That dangles between your legs." ]
The class erupted in laughter and Harry turned a light maroon shade. He sinked three quarters of an inch lower into the chair, shifting in his uniform and straightening his tie at the same time. Hermione frowned in disapproval, returning to stir the cauldron, her pointy noise crinkling and a disgusted sound emitted from her throat.
But these things didn't matter anymore.
No, oh no.
Nothing of the sort mattered.
When Malfoy ran away Harry nearly laughed with mirth, but not so much as when he came back. Robes damp with blood and sweat, a cut on that angled cheekbone, and his hair so long past his shoulders that it reminded Harry of princesses trapped in tower spires. He was leaning against the wreckage of what once was the Leaky Cauldron, that smug smirk on his features cutting like barbed wire.
[ "Scarface.
" Salutations.
" Suppose you're going to kill me now.
" Suppose I'm right." ]
Harry stared at him, expression blank. His emotions flowed through his fingertips.
[ "Harry.
" I suppose it's love, isn't it?
" That saved you, that kills you.
" Hello Harry.
" Are you ready to die with the rest of us?" ]
Harry, dripping with sweat and blood, cuts and bruises, anger and mirth at the same time. At the same time same time sametimesametime.
[ "Malfoy.
" We're the same, you and me."]
Malfoy smiled, lowering his wand.
[ "Yes, Potter.
" We are."]
There were spells and words and things filled with other things and so much left to say.
[ "We're love." ]
Genre: Angst / Humor
Disclaimer: I no ka-ching. You no ka-boom.
Summary: We are all the same.
The first thing Harry Potter thought when he saw Draco Malfoy was the thought that he hated him more than he had hated anyone in his whole life. More that his Uncle Vernon, or Aunt Petunia, or that bastard child of theirs. Yes, he hated Draco Malfoy more than his hate for all three of them combined. This, he was sure.
He hated the way he shook his hair from his face. He hated the way he casually offered his hand and smoothly retracted it. He hated the sharp angle cheek bones and cold icy eyes that belonged to him. He hated Draco's moon-white complexion, his slender form, his quick wit.
[ "Ron, help me write a Valentine to Cho.
" Make it say how much I lover her eyes.
" Oh, and her athletic figure.
" And her broomstick." ]
Draco laughed.
[ "I can help you with that, Potter.
"Dear Cho,
"I love your eyes, your figure.
"And that little thing
"That dangles between your legs." ]
The class erupted in laughter and Harry turned a light maroon shade. He sinked three quarters of an inch lower into the chair, shifting in his uniform and straightening his tie at the same time. Hermione frowned in disapproval, returning to stir the cauldron, her pointy noise crinkling and a disgusted sound emitted from her throat.
But these things didn't matter anymore.
No, oh no.
Nothing of the sort mattered.
When Malfoy ran away Harry nearly laughed with mirth, but not so much as when he came back. Robes damp with blood and sweat, a cut on that angled cheekbone, and his hair so long past his shoulders that it reminded Harry of princesses trapped in tower spires. He was leaning against the wreckage of what once was the Leaky Cauldron, that smug smirk on his features cutting like barbed wire.
[ "Scarface.
" Salutations.
" Suppose you're going to kill me now.
" Suppose I'm right." ]
Harry stared at him, expression blank. His emotions flowed through his fingertips.
[ "Harry.
" I suppose it's love, isn't it?
" That saved you, that kills you.
" Hello Harry.
" Are you ready to die with the rest of us?" ]
Harry, dripping with sweat and blood, cuts and bruises, anger and mirth at the same time. At the same time same time sametimesametime.
[ "Malfoy.
" We're the same, you and me."]
Malfoy smiled, lowering his wand.
[ "Yes, Potter.
" We are."]
There were spells and words and things filled with other things and so much left to say.
[ "We're love." ]