On The Tightrope 9/48
Title: On The Tightrope ~ Of Understandings (9/48)
Author: Lire lire_casander
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG this chapter. NC-17 overall.
Word Count: 1606
Beta: Lovely gurliemoviegeek. Any mistakes left are my own fault.
Disclaimer: I do not own in any form or shape these characters, JK Rowling does. Just playing with them for my own amusement and yours.
Summary: Harry Potter has saved the world, and now the world has left him out. When desperation becomes too much to bear, he finds solace in an unexpected act of salvation committed by an unexpected hero.
Warnings (overall): Angst. Intents of suicide. Dark themes. Fluff. DH-compliant, including epilogue. Takes place between the final chapter and the epilogue.
Warnings of this chapter: Angst. Lots of it. You have been warned.
Author's Note: Written for 100quills's prompt table using prompt 28. Asleep.
After a first day full of anecdotes - the First years asking about the Forbidden Forest, the Second Years wondering about Basilisks, the Third Years learning the uses of a Time Traveler, the Fourth Years musing about bravery - Harry came back to the Common Room exhausted. He was annoyed to realize that he still had to set up the training sessions for Quidditch, and he sat down summoning a quill and a piece of parchment to write an ad.
There were few students in the room, mostly First and Second Years; the rest had gone outside to enjoy the last minutes of daylight before getting back inside to bury themselves in boring studies. Harry looked around the room, biting gently the tip of his quill. Sighing, he noticed that his ideas were leading him towards one direction - there was no use in fighting it.
He wrote down his ad and spelled the parchment to duplicate. Standing up, Harry trotted towards the Fat Lady and exited Gryffindor Tower whistling softly. For the first time in what seemed ages but probably was just since Voldemort's dismissal, he felt almost at ease in his skin. Harry reached the entrance of the Great Hall; glancing briefly to the place where Umbridge's proclamations had once hung, he shrugged and conjured a frame for his ad. He hung it and went back upstairs.
Halfway through the corridors, he stumbled upon a dark form sitting in the sideway, almost hidden by a statue. At first he didn't recognize the figure, but an almost silent sob gave the stranger's identity away.
"Malfoy?" he called; pointing his wand to nowhere in particular he cast a swift Lumos. "Are you alright?"
"Leave--- leave me alone," came the reply, almost muffled.
"No way I'm leaving you here crying."
"I'm not crying."
"Right. Then your eyes are severely injured, because there are rivers coming out of them ."
Malfoy shrugged; thanks to the motion Harry could see a piece of parchment the blond was clutching. "What's that? Bad news?"
"It's not your business, Potter."
"As a teacher, it's my duty to look after my students' wellbeing."
"Now you're a teacher also outside a classroom? How… Gryffindor of you."
"How is it possible that you're bawling here yet you can throw snarky comments my way? I was just trying to help, but you are not willing to listen. Have it your way then, Malfoy."
Harry turned around to leave, but the sound of a repressed sob held him in place. Maybe it was his hero complex, he thought to himself, but he could not abandon Malfoy crying in a dark corridor. He spun around and bent on his knees to be at the same level as the blond.
"I'm not going anywhere without you, Draco," he said softly.
"There's no need to go out of your way for me, Potter. This is not your bloody classroom." Draco balled up the parchment in his hands. "I'm not your responsibility outside of teaching hours."
Harry sighed. He could not explain the situation to the only Slytherin left - he could not find a reason as to why he was still kneeling beside Draco Malfoy when it was obvious he was not welcome. "Come on, let's go back to the tower.The rest must be wondering where we are."
"You mean, they are wondering what I'm plotting to do to you now that I've managed to get you alone in a dark corridor."
Harry laughed mirthless. "You're joking, right? No one thinks you'll hurt me, Draco."
"Stop it!" the blond exclaimed. "I'm Malfoy for you, remember? Just Malfoy!" The brunet blinked at the other's outburst, but he didn't have a chance to reply, for Draco - Malfoy - was speaking again. "I know what they say, what they think about me. I know that yours is the only House where the teachers' board could find me a place to stay, and that's because McGonagall was able to impose her authority over your lot!"
"My lot?"
"Yes, your lot! People like you, who think they are the bravest, the heroes, the ones who are better than the rest because they fought against a Dark Lord! To you, no one else means a fucking thing!" Draco was crying again, harder than before.
Harry bit his lips as the blond was shaken by sobs and tears, trying to keep his wails under control and failing spectacularly.
"To you, I mean nothing!" Draco sobbed, the paper in his hand crunching and breaking around the edges. "Don't say that you understand me, because you can't! You don't know how it is to be me, to live my life, to be Lucius Malfoy's son, to come back here and find that you're the only coward left, to be despised, to know that you have no place to go!" Draco was babbling, his words slurred by his sobs, until his sounds became unintelligible and all he was able to do was rock back and forth, tears splashing on his pale hands as he held the piece of parchment close to his heart.
Harry looked at him, at the helpless trembling, and did the only thing he knew could calm a crying person.
He put his arms around Draco and held him close to him, allowing the blond to hide his stained face on Harry's chest.
Harry didn’t say a thing, he only held Draco firmly but gently, his hands caressing blond hair and his lips muttering sweet words to ears that weren't used to hearing them. All the while, what seemed a whole lifetime but was only until Draco fell oddly asleep, Harry didn't find it strange to be holding another boy in his arms, not even Malfoy.
For the second time that day, Harry knew he had done the right thing.
When he checked that Draco had effectively succumbed to slumber, he decided to go back upstairs. They had skipped dinner, and Harry was sure that his housemates would ask him questions about Draco - not Malfoy anymore - questions he was not that willing to answer. When he reached the Fat Lady, Draco in his arms, there was no turning back. He would enter the tower and try to get Draco to Seamus' or Dean's bed. He faced the first obstacle in the form of Michael McCormack, who was the only one left in the Common Room.
"Hey, Harry, what happened?" he asked, pointing to Draco's still figure. "Have you managed to knock him unconscious at last?"
"Git," Harry muttered under his breath. "Help me to get him upstairs. He's asleep."
"I don't think Ron would allow him to share a room with him. Maybe Ron is inclined to accept him in class, but outside of it there's no need to be gentle with Malfoy."
"Are you going to help me or not?" Harry barked. When the only reply he got was McCormack turning around and climbing up the stairs without a word, he knew he had his answer. Too exhausted and famished to carry Draco anymore, Harry laid him on the couch and took the parchment out of the blond's hand softly. He sighed, watching the pale wizard's chest heaving.
"Why?" he heard. He didn't have to turn to know Hermione was behind him. "Why have you missed dinner? Why is he asleep on the couch? Why are you so keen on forgiving him?"
"Just because," Harry shrugged. "He was crying and I found him. I helped him calm down and he fell asleep. And… I don't know, 'Mione. I guess he deserves a second chance, just like everyone else has had sometime in their lives."
"Not everyone else made a mistake as huge as him, Harry. Not everyone else needs a second chance. He is just a snake that helped Voldemort; he may have saved your life, but Harry, he didn't do it selflessly."
"I don't care what his intentions were; he helped us even if no one is going to admit it."
"Harry…"
"Remember our first year? Remember what Ron thought of you back then? What would have happened if he hadn't granted you a second chance to get to know you, Hermione? What would have happened if there hadn't been a troll to defeat?"
She looked at him, gaping. "I hadn't given it a thought. Do you mean that---?"
"We should give him the benefit of the doubt, Hermione. Allow him to prove who he really is. You showed that you were not only a know-it-all; let him show us that he is not only a snake."
Hermione shook her head. "I hadn't noticed that you thought like that, Harry. But you are right. I'll… I'll try to accept him, I promise. That's all I can do." She smiled softly. "I'm going to bed, Harry. See you tomorrow."
She began to walk up the stairs, then suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks and said over her shoulder. "That idea you put in your ad… it's the best I've seen in ages. Well done, Harry."
He thanked her and waited until she disappeared to settle down besides Draco Malfoy the parchment the blond had been clutching, and Harry's own ad. He didn't need to read what Draco had been hiding from him, but he needed Draco to know what he had been up to.
Whatever House you are in, if you have always wanted to play Quidditch, this is your chance. On Wednesday, after the classes, Harry Potter will be running a session to choose the members of the Interhouse Quiddtich Team. If you are interested, come to the Quidditch pitch. There is always a place for a good player!
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Author: Lire lire_casander
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG this chapter. NC-17 overall.
Word Count: 1606
Beta: Lovely gurliemoviegeek. Any mistakes left are my own fault.
Disclaimer: I do not own in any form or shape these characters, JK Rowling does. Just playing with them for my own amusement and yours.
Summary: Harry Potter has saved the world, and now the world has left him out. When desperation becomes too much to bear, he finds solace in an unexpected act of salvation committed by an unexpected hero.
Warnings (overall): Angst. Intents of suicide. Dark themes. Fluff. DH-compliant, including epilogue. Takes place between the final chapter and the epilogue.
Warnings of this chapter: Angst. Lots of it. You have been warned.
Author's Note: Written for 100quills's prompt table using prompt 28. Asleep.
After a first day full of anecdotes - the First years asking about the Forbidden Forest, the Second Years wondering about Basilisks, the Third Years learning the uses of a Time Traveler, the Fourth Years musing about bravery - Harry came back to the Common Room exhausted. He was annoyed to realize that he still had to set up the training sessions for Quidditch, and he sat down summoning a quill and a piece of parchment to write an ad.
There were few students in the room, mostly First and Second Years; the rest had gone outside to enjoy the last minutes of daylight before getting back inside to bury themselves in boring studies. Harry looked around the room, biting gently the tip of his quill. Sighing, he noticed that his ideas were leading him towards one direction - there was no use in fighting it.
He wrote down his ad and spelled the parchment to duplicate. Standing up, Harry trotted towards the Fat Lady and exited Gryffindor Tower whistling softly. For the first time in what seemed ages but probably was just since Voldemort's dismissal, he felt almost at ease in his skin. Harry reached the entrance of the Great Hall; glancing briefly to the place where Umbridge's proclamations had once hung, he shrugged and conjured a frame for his ad. He hung it and went back upstairs.
Halfway through the corridors, he stumbled upon a dark form sitting in the sideway, almost hidden by a statue. At first he didn't recognize the figure, but an almost silent sob gave the stranger's identity away.
"Malfoy?" he called; pointing his wand to nowhere in particular he cast a swift Lumos. "Are you alright?"
"Leave--- leave me alone," came the reply, almost muffled.
"No way I'm leaving you here crying."
"I'm not crying."
"Right. Then your eyes are severely injured, because there are rivers coming out of them ."
Malfoy shrugged; thanks to the motion Harry could see a piece of parchment the blond was clutching. "What's that? Bad news?"
"It's not your business, Potter."
"As a teacher, it's my duty to look after my students' wellbeing."
"Now you're a teacher also outside a classroom? How… Gryffindor of you."
"How is it possible that you're bawling here yet you can throw snarky comments my way? I was just trying to help, but you are not willing to listen. Have it your way then, Malfoy."
Harry turned around to leave, but the sound of a repressed sob held him in place. Maybe it was his hero complex, he thought to himself, but he could not abandon Malfoy crying in a dark corridor. He spun around and bent on his knees to be at the same level as the blond.
"I'm not going anywhere without you, Draco," he said softly.
"There's no need to go out of your way for me, Potter. This is not your bloody classroom." Draco balled up the parchment in his hands. "I'm not your responsibility outside of teaching hours."
Harry sighed. He could not explain the situation to the only Slytherin left - he could not find a reason as to why he was still kneeling beside Draco Malfoy when it was obvious he was not welcome. "Come on, let's go back to the tower.The rest must be wondering where we are."
"You mean, they are wondering what I'm plotting to do to you now that I've managed to get you alone in a dark corridor."
Harry laughed mirthless. "You're joking, right? No one thinks you'll hurt me, Draco."
"Stop it!" the blond exclaimed. "I'm Malfoy for you, remember? Just Malfoy!" The brunet blinked at the other's outburst, but he didn't have a chance to reply, for Draco - Malfoy - was speaking again. "I know what they say, what they think about me. I know that yours is the only House where the teachers' board could find me a place to stay, and that's because McGonagall was able to impose her authority over your lot!"
"My lot?"
"Yes, your lot! People like you, who think they are the bravest, the heroes, the ones who are better than the rest because they fought against a Dark Lord! To you, no one else means a fucking thing!" Draco was crying again, harder than before.
Harry bit his lips as the blond was shaken by sobs and tears, trying to keep his wails under control and failing spectacularly.
"To you, I mean nothing!" Draco sobbed, the paper in his hand crunching and breaking around the edges. "Don't say that you understand me, because you can't! You don't know how it is to be me, to live my life, to be Lucius Malfoy's son, to come back here and find that you're the only coward left, to be despised, to know that you have no place to go!" Draco was babbling, his words slurred by his sobs, until his sounds became unintelligible and all he was able to do was rock back and forth, tears splashing on his pale hands as he held the piece of parchment close to his heart.
Harry looked at him, at the helpless trembling, and did the only thing he knew could calm a crying person.
He put his arms around Draco and held him close to him, allowing the blond to hide his stained face on Harry's chest.
Harry didn’t say a thing, he only held Draco firmly but gently, his hands caressing blond hair and his lips muttering sweet words to ears that weren't used to hearing them. All the while, what seemed a whole lifetime but was only until Draco fell oddly asleep, Harry didn't find it strange to be holding another boy in his arms, not even Malfoy.
For the second time that day, Harry knew he had done the right thing.
When he checked that Draco had effectively succumbed to slumber, he decided to go back upstairs. They had skipped dinner, and Harry was sure that his housemates would ask him questions about Draco - not Malfoy anymore - questions he was not that willing to answer. When he reached the Fat Lady, Draco in his arms, there was no turning back. He would enter the tower and try to get Draco to Seamus' or Dean's bed. He faced the first obstacle in the form of Michael McCormack, who was the only one left in the Common Room.
"Hey, Harry, what happened?" he asked, pointing to Draco's still figure. "Have you managed to knock him unconscious at last?"
"Git," Harry muttered under his breath. "Help me to get him upstairs. He's asleep."
"I don't think Ron would allow him to share a room with him. Maybe Ron is inclined to accept him in class, but outside of it there's no need to be gentle with Malfoy."
"Are you going to help me or not?" Harry barked. When the only reply he got was McCormack turning around and climbing up the stairs without a word, he knew he had his answer. Too exhausted and famished to carry Draco anymore, Harry laid him on the couch and took the parchment out of the blond's hand softly. He sighed, watching the pale wizard's chest heaving.
"Why?" he heard. He didn't have to turn to know Hermione was behind him. "Why have you missed dinner? Why is he asleep on the couch? Why are you so keen on forgiving him?"
"Just because," Harry shrugged. "He was crying and I found him. I helped him calm down and he fell asleep. And… I don't know, 'Mione. I guess he deserves a second chance, just like everyone else has had sometime in their lives."
"Not everyone else made a mistake as huge as him, Harry. Not everyone else needs a second chance. He is just a snake that helped Voldemort; he may have saved your life, but Harry, he didn't do it selflessly."
"I don't care what his intentions were; he helped us even if no one is going to admit it."
"Harry…"
"Remember our first year? Remember what Ron thought of you back then? What would have happened if he hadn't granted you a second chance to get to know you, Hermione? What would have happened if there hadn't been a troll to defeat?"
She looked at him, gaping. "I hadn't given it a thought. Do you mean that---?"
"We should give him the benefit of the doubt, Hermione. Allow him to prove who he really is. You showed that you were not only a know-it-all; let him show us that he is not only a snake."
Hermione shook her head. "I hadn't noticed that you thought like that, Harry. But you are right. I'll… I'll try to accept him, I promise. That's all I can do." She smiled softly. "I'm going to bed, Harry. See you tomorrow."
She began to walk up the stairs, then suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks and said over her shoulder. "That idea you put in your ad… it's the best I've seen in ages. Well done, Harry."
He thanked her and waited until she disappeared to settle down besides Draco Malfoy the parchment the blond had been clutching, and Harry's own ad. He didn't need to read what Draco had been hiding from him, but he needed Draco to know what he had been up to.
Whatever House you are in, if you have always wanted to play Quidditch, this is your chance. On Wednesday, after the classes, Harry Potter will be running a session to choose the members of the Interhouse Quiddtich Team. If you are interested, come to the Quidditch pitch. There is always a place for a good player!
Back | Next