FIC: Impossible Things [Harry/Draco]
Title: Impossible Things
Author: shadowofrazia
Prompt: S25 by carpemermaid
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1000
Rating: G
Warning(s): A little bit angsty.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This takes place in an AU that changed after fifth year sometime. It’s short enough that I didn’t specify too much. Also, shout out to my irl friend S for looking over this for me!
Summary: As he lay beneath the star-strewn sky, with Draco beside him, Harry could let himself pretend that his destiny wasn’t so big after all.
Impossible Things
“So there are Ursa Major and Minor,” Draco was saying, pointing out the constellations as if Harry hadn’t also taken five years of Astronomy at Hogwarts.
“What about that bright star there?” asked Harry. Draco squinted up at where Harry was pointing.
“That’s Arcturus,” he said, grabbing Harry’s hand and shifting it down slightly.
“Serpens is separated by Ophiuchus, and - if you look carefully at the bottom of it - Saturn’s that goldish spot there. You can tell it’s a planet rather than a star because it doesn’t twinkle.”
“How do you know all of this?” Harry asked, linking his fingers with Draco’s and lowering their hands.
“You’d be surprised by the things required of a Malfoy,” Draco said. “Or a Black, rather. I’ve practically been able to name the constellations since I could speak. How else would I remember my ancestry?”
Harry stared up at the sky that gleamed as if strewn with shattered glass. He’d never seen stars like this growing up in Little Whinging. He never got to look up and dream about what it’d be like up and away from a world that had wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn’t until he’d gone to Hogwarts that he’d seen the night sky- really seen it.
He missed the sky above Hogwarts. He wondered if he’d get to see it again.
“You know,” said Harry, “Muggles have been up there.”
Draco scoffed.
“They have not. There’s no way.”
“There is,” Harry insisted, looking over at Draco. “In the sixties, Americans even sent men to the moon. They brought rocks back and everything. We talked about it in primary school.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.”
“Yes, well, you would say that,” Draco muttered. “Your entire life is one big impossibility.”
Harry said nothing to that, just turned his gaze up towards the vast expanse of sky above him. He felt small, smaller than the destiny that was pulling him in, unrelenting and dark as a black hole.
Looking at the stars, Harry let himself if maybe his destiny wasn’t so big after all.
“I didn’t mean to sound so-” said Draco. “Well, maybe I did. I just- Do you know what it’s like to be around you? Being by your side is- You’re impossible, your belief in the good of people around you is unimaginable, and sometimes I can believe that we might get out of this nonsense alive.”
Harry scowled up at the sky. Honestly, he was glad it was dark- with how hot his face felt, he knew he was flushing.
“Anybody could do this,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why everyone thinks it has to be me. I just don’t - Enough things have gone wrong that I don’t like to get my hopes up.”
“That’s your mistake, Harry,” said Draco softly. “You’re so busy giving everyone else hope that you forget to save a bit for yourself.”
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and Harry focused on the feeling of Draco’s fingers tapping a rhythm against his skin.
“I almost walked away,” Harry said quietly. “It was after Sirius died. I knew it was my fault he was gone, and I - I’ve never hated who I was more than I did in that moment. I just wanted out, but Dumbledore...well, you know how he is. He said I was the only one who can end this, and I always have to play the hero.”
He’d not admitted this to anyone until now, not even Ron and Hermione. He felt ashamed by how much freedom he’d felt beneath the grief roiling within him. He felt ashamed knowing that, if given the choice again, he might change his mind.
Draco reached up and tugged on a lock of hair that hung in Harry’s eyes.
“Being angry doesn’t make you a bad person. Being afraid doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said. “You’ve done so much for our world already that it’s abhorrent that we’re selfish enough to ask you for more.”
Harry looked over at him, then, took in Draco’s appearance in the blue moonlight, and the open, honest expression on his face.
No one would recognise this, Harry knew, not this Draco whose expressions were as free as the hair that grew lighter with every day spent in the sun. This Draco, with skin kissed red by the sun, despite Harry’s frequent reminders to cover his aristocratic skin; who wore Muggle shorts stolen from Harry’s bag, and splayed out on the grass, reading while Harry gardened.
Once, he’d asked why Harry spent so much time caring for plants he’d likely never see again after their time here. Harry had thought for a long moment before he explained that, over all the years, gardening was one of the few constants in the chaos of his life.
Draco was a constant, too, Harry realised. They’d been caught in each other’s orbit the moment they’d spoken in Madam Malkin’s all those years ago. If they collided was never in question, it was always a matter of when.
Harry hoped this thing between them would last after everything ended, but for now, Harry had Draco in this world they’d created, where they wrote their stories in the stars and let themselves believe that everything would be okay in the end.
Harry pointed their joined hands at the sky.
“What’s that one there?” he asked.
Draco laughed.
“You know bloody well what that one is,” he said. “I pointed it out the first night we came out here.”
“That’s your one, then?” Harry grinned over at Draco.
“Yes, I suppose that’s my one,” Draco said. “Right where it should be.”
Harry clutched more tightly at Draco’s hand, and was relieved when Draco did the same. Maybe tonight would be the last night they spent together, but lying here, under the stars that had watched over eons, Harry let himself hope for forever.
Author: shadowofrazia
Prompt: S25 by carpemermaid
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1000
Rating: G
Warning(s): A little bit angsty.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This takes place in an AU that changed after fifth year sometime. It’s short enough that I didn’t specify too much. Also, shout out to my irl friend S for looking over this for me!
Summary: As he lay beneath the star-strewn sky, with Draco beside him, Harry could let himself pretend that his destiny wasn’t so big after all.
Impossible Things
“So there are Ursa Major and Minor,” Draco was saying, pointing out the constellations as if Harry hadn’t also taken five years of Astronomy at Hogwarts.
“What about that bright star there?” asked Harry. Draco squinted up at where Harry was pointing.
“That’s Arcturus,” he said, grabbing Harry’s hand and shifting it down slightly.
“Serpens is separated by Ophiuchus, and - if you look carefully at the bottom of it - Saturn’s that goldish spot there. You can tell it’s a planet rather than a star because it doesn’t twinkle.”
“How do you know all of this?” Harry asked, linking his fingers with Draco’s and lowering their hands.
“You’d be surprised by the things required of a Malfoy,” Draco said. “Or a Black, rather. I’ve practically been able to name the constellations since I could speak. How else would I remember my ancestry?”
Harry stared up at the sky that gleamed as if strewn with shattered glass. He’d never seen stars like this growing up in Little Whinging. He never got to look up and dream about what it’d be like up and away from a world that had wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn’t until he’d gone to Hogwarts that he’d seen the night sky- really seen it.
He missed the sky above Hogwarts. He wondered if he’d get to see it again.
“You know,” said Harry, “Muggles have been up there.”
Draco scoffed.
“They have not. There’s no way.”
“There is,” Harry insisted, looking over at Draco. “In the sixties, Americans even sent men to the moon. They brought rocks back and everything. We talked about it in primary school.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.”
“Yes, well, you would say that,” Draco muttered. “Your entire life is one big impossibility.”
Harry said nothing to that, just turned his gaze up towards the vast expanse of sky above him. He felt small, smaller than the destiny that was pulling him in, unrelenting and dark as a black hole.
Looking at the stars, Harry let himself if maybe his destiny wasn’t so big after all.
“I didn’t mean to sound so-” said Draco. “Well, maybe I did. I just- Do you know what it’s like to be around you? Being by your side is- You’re impossible, your belief in the good of people around you is unimaginable, and sometimes I can believe that we might get out of this nonsense alive.”
Harry scowled up at the sky. Honestly, he was glad it was dark- with how hot his face felt, he knew he was flushing.
“Anybody could do this,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why everyone thinks it has to be me. I just don’t - Enough things have gone wrong that I don’t like to get my hopes up.”
“That’s your mistake, Harry,” said Draco softly. “You’re so busy giving everyone else hope that you forget to save a bit for yourself.”
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and Harry focused on the feeling of Draco’s fingers tapping a rhythm against his skin.
“I almost walked away,” Harry said quietly. “It was after Sirius died. I knew it was my fault he was gone, and I - I’ve never hated who I was more than I did in that moment. I just wanted out, but Dumbledore...well, you know how he is. He said I was the only one who can end this, and I always have to play the hero.”
He’d not admitted this to anyone until now, not even Ron and Hermione. He felt ashamed by how much freedom he’d felt beneath the grief roiling within him. He felt ashamed knowing that, if given the choice again, he might change his mind.
Draco reached up and tugged on a lock of hair that hung in Harry’s eyes.
“Being angry doesn’t make you a bad person. Being afraid doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said. “You’ve done so much for our world already that it’s abhorrent that we’re selfish enough to ask you for more.”
Harry looked over at him, then, took in Draco’s appearance in the blue moonlight, and the open, honest expression on his face.
No one would recognise this, Harry knew, not this Draco whose expressions were as free as the hair that grew lighter with every day spent in the sun. This Draco, with skin kissed red by the sun, despite Harry’s frequent reminders to cover his aristocratic skin; who wore Muggle shorts stolen from Harry’s bag, and splayed out on the grass, reading while Harry gardened.
Once, he’d asked why Harry spent so much time caring for plants he’d likely never see again after their time here. Harry had thought for a long moment before he explained that, over all the years, gardening was one of the few constants in the chaos of his life.
Draco was a constant, too, Harry realised. They’d been caught in each other’s orbit the moment they’d spoken in Madam Malkin’s all those years ago. If they collided was never in question, it was always a matter of when.
Harry hoped this thing between them would last after everything ended, but for now, Harry had Draco in this world they’d created, where they wrote their stories in the stars and let themselves believe that everything would be okay in the end.
Harry pointed their joined hands at the sky.
“What’s that one there?” he asked.
Draco laughed.
“You know bloody well what that one is,” he said. “I pointed it out the first night we came out here.”
“That’s your one, then?” Harry grinned over at Draco.
“Yes, I suppose that’s my one,” Draco said. “Right where it should be.”
Harry clutched more tightly at Draco’s hand, and was relieved when Draco did the same. Maybe tonight would be the last night they spent together, but lying here, under the stars that had watched over eons, Harry let himself hope for forever.