It Happened in Tokyo (Part 4)
Title: It Happened in Tokyo
Author: Black Silk
Pairing: ??/Draco, Draco-centric
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Slight angst
Word count: 1,328
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling. I only put them in situations she would not; and if she did she would not dare publish them.
Author's note: More angst! With this fic, I cannot seem to avoid it! This is my entry for enchanted_jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge for the month of July, with the prompts of spark, water, ghost, heat, breeze, magic. I manged to fit in a few of the words
Summary: Draco waked up in a love hotel and cannot remember what happened the night before. Will it come back to haunt him?
After the ordeals of the day Draco managed to lose himself in his potions. He brewed a few simple healing potions. They would be sent out tomorrow in a shipment to Howgarts, one of his biggest clients for medical concoctions. He thought it was because how exacting Madame Pomfrey was. She had grown use to having Severus’s perfectly brewed potions. So when Draco started his business and approached her, once she had thoroughly tested his product, the old medi-witch was only too happy to buy from Draco. He had been Professor Snape’s brightest pupil.
Given his agitation at finding out that Harry was likely engaged to the youngest Weasley, he was glad he had brewed the more difficult potions for Pomfrey before he had left for Tokyo. He needed the mindless repition of brewing Calming Draughts, Pepperup Potions, and Hiccoughing Solutions; things he was sure Pomfrey could work on herself, but too busy to actually get to. He decided to throw in a few Dreamless Sleep potions at no extra cost, simply because it kept him brewing.
Draco deliberately kept his mind off of his cursed scar potion. He would work on that when he was less distressed and yes, he still would owl Harry a bottle of it once it was perfected. He still owed Harry his life and more. He had been happy with Harry. Draco had resisted taking things further because of his own cowardice, his own trepidation. He could not believe that Harry truly cared for him. So he had mucked things up and now he was alone miserable and even having the energy to work on the one think that could have made him worthy of Harry.
‘No, stop castigating yourself Draco. What’s done is done. It’s all in the past, concentrate on the task at hand and tomorrow (or next week) you can focus on your potion.’ Draco went back to work.
It was well past midnight when finished bottling the last of the Dreamless Sleep. He would have taken one for himself, but he felt that his brain was exhausted enough not to plague him with nightmares. He trudged up the stairs to his suite of room. Took a quick shower to wash off not only remnants of the potions he had brewed, which could have an ill effect if left too long on his skin, but the dirt and grime from his earlier trip to Diagon Alley and the plant shop.
Draco stood an extra amount of time under the warm spray of the shower, watching the soap swirl down the drain, hoping that his bad memories were also being washed away. Once clean, he turned off the shower and stepped out of the shower. The house-elves have left him heated towels, and he quickly dried off. He really was tired and longed for his bed. He ignored the silk pyjamas that the house-elves had set out for him and went to his chest of drawers. He pulled open the bottom drawer and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out an old red t-shirt and brought it to his face. Draco inhaled the lingering smell. It still smelled of Harry; thanks in large part to a spell Draco had found. He imaged that it had been created by a lonely wife whose husband left her for long periods of time.
He placed the beloved item on the bed and dressed. He would have worn the garment, but was sure that it would stop smelling of Harry if he used it. Instead the climbed into bed and placed the red shirt next to him on the pillow. Inhaling deeply and pretending that Harry was sleeping right next to him. Draco could just about pretend that he had not seen the man he loved getting engaged. He could almost pretend that Harry still loved him. He could almost pretend that he was still happy.
Draco fell asleep to the memory of falling asleep in the arm of his lover, the man he had loved, and loved still.
~*~♥~*~
Draco was on a bed; he was naked and blindfolded. He should have been scared, but instead he felt secure. He thought about why that was and that’s when he felt the presence of another man. He was standing next to the bed, also naked. The sightless Draco did not have to see to know this. The man, though he was looming over him, did not feel threatening. Draco instead felt protected.
“Please.” The whispered word fell from his lips and echoed in the room, wrapping him and the other man in a blanket of need. He was suddenly desperately hard and he knew his companion was in a similar state, despite still being unable to see.
The bed dipped as the other man climbed onto it. Draco could feel him warmth radiating from the man now. He was like a furnace that just caused Draco’s temperature to climb and climb.
The man leaned over Draco and grabbed his left hand. Draco moan the contact sent sparks up his arm and seemed to warm his heart. The man leaned over him and started whispering. The words ghosted over Draco. The words caressed him.
“You are mine now Draco Malfoy. The Mark that Voldemort had placed on you to claim you will no longer burden you.” Draco felt that man run fingers over where the shadow of the Dark Mark was on his left arm. It had not disappeared when the mad man had dies, but it had faded; more so for Draco since he had never killed for that crazy shadow of a human. The touch at first felt cool, but then his arm started to heat up, not quite enough to hurt. “No one else is allowed to claim you or mark you as long as I live.”
The man let go of Draco’s hand and place his arm flat on the bed.
“Do you understand Draco?”
Draco tried to nod, but he could not move. He did not want to move, he was too comfortable, too safe. “Yes.” He could feel the man smile at his response.
“Good. I must leave now, but we shall see each other soon.” The man left the bed, but before he was gone, Draco felt him touch the platinum ring on his left hand. Draco smiled.
~*~♥~*~
Draco woke up feeling refreshed. He turned his head and unconsciously buried his face in Harry’s scent. For a moment he let himself believe that Harry had spent the night, that he had only left moments ago. But he knew that was not true. He threw the sheet off and got out of bed. He took the shirt with him, renewed the spell on it and then placed it back in its safe place.
Draco went into the bathroom and voided his bladder. He washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and cleansed his face. He performed the rest of his morning ritual and went to dress for a day in his lab.
It was not until he reached into his wardrobe that he looked at his left arm. The Dark Mark was gone! Draco could not believe his eyes. He called Petra and had her examine his arm. He needed proof that the mark was gone. She claimed that his arm was indeed unmarked, not even a blemish or freckle in sight.
“Thank you, Petra, that will be all.” With a pop she was gone, presumably to finish preparing his breakfast.
Draco could not stop staring at his arm. He walked over to the window in order to examine his arm in the sunlight. As he held up, he noticed that the sun caught a ring on his left hand. And in that moment his dream of the night before flooded back to him. He also vaguely remembered seeing the ring after he woke up in that horrid love hotel in Tokyo.
Draco had forgotten all about it! He went to remove it, but could not remove it. No matter how hard to tried, it would not budge. He went in search of his wand and rattled off a number of spells at it. The damned ring stayed on his finger.
Why was it on his finger? Draco racked his brain trying to remember if he ever read about enchanted or cursed rings.
After some time, a memory of his childhood came to him.
~*~*~
He was five, maybe six. He had been sitting in his mother’s lap as she read to him from The Tales of Beedle the Bard. When she had finished the story and closed the book, the light had caught the rings on her left finger and made them glitter like stars.
“Mommy, why do you have stars on your fingers?”
His mother had laughed and explained that they were not stars, but her engagement and wedding bands. Draco had asked her if he could hold them. However, she had said that she was not allowed to remove them. When her and his father had been married the rings had been charmed on and could only be removed if they divorced of if something grave happened to one of them.
~*~*~
Draco looked down at his hand in horror. It could not be a wedding band! It just was not possible. He tried to remove it again.
By the time he resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to remove it, bonding magic was very powerful after all, he had tears streaming down his face.
He had ruined his life.
~*~*~*~
In a different part of a country, a certain black haired wizard felt a small tug on his own wedding band and smiled. ‘So the blond had finally noticed the ring.’
Author: Black Silk
Pairing: ??/Draco, Draco-centric
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Slight angst
Word count: 1,328
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling. I only put them in situations she would not; and if she did she would not dare publish them.
Author's note: More angst! With this fic, I cannot seem to avoid it! This is my entry for enchanted_jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge for the month of July, with the prompts of spark, water, ghost, heat, breeze, magic. I manged to fit in a few of the words
Summary: Draco waked up in a love hotel and cannot remember what happened the night before. Will it come back to haunt him?
After the ordeals of the day Draco managed to lose himself in his potions. He brewed a few simple healing potions. They would be sent out tomorrow in a shipment to Howgarts, one of his biggest clients for medical concoctions. He thought it was because how exacting Madame Pomfrey was. She had grown use to having Severus’s perfectly brewed potions. So when Draco started his business and approached her, once she had thoroughly tested his product, the old medi-witch was only too happy to buy from Draco. He had been Professor Snape’s brightest pupil.
Given his agitation at finding out that Harry was likely engaged to the youngest Weasley, he was glad he had brewed the more difficult potions for Pomfrey before he had left for Tokyo. He needed the mindless repition of brewing Calming Draughts, Pepperup Potions, and Hiccoughing Solutions; things he was sure Pomfrey could work on herself, but too busy to actually get to. He decided to throw in a few Dreamless Sleep potions at no extra cost, simply because it kept him brewing.
Draco deliberately kept his mind off of his cursed scar potion. He would work on that when he was less distressed and yes, he still would owl Harry a bottle of it once it was perfected. He still owed Harry his life and more. He had been happy with Harry. Draco had resisted taking things further because of his own cowardice, his own trepidation. He could not believe that Harry truly cared for him. So he had mucked things up and now he was alone miserable and even having the energy to work on the one think that could have made him worthy of Harry.
‘No, stop castigating yourself Draco. What’s done is done. It’s all in the past, concentrate on the task at hand and tomorrow (or next week) you can focus on your potion.’ Draco went back to work.
It was well past midnight when finished bottling the last of the Dreamless Sleep. He would have taken one for himself, but he felt that his brain was exhausted enough not to plague him with nightmares. He trudged up the stairs to his suite of room. Took a quick shower to wash off not only remnants of the potions he had brewed, which could have an ill effect if left too long on his skin, but the dirt and grime from his earlier trip to Diagon Alley and the plant shop.
Draco stood an extra amount of time under the warm spray of the shower, watching the soap swirl down the drain, hoping that his bad memories were also being washed away. Once clean, he turned off the shower and stepped out of the shower. The house-elves have left him heated towels, and he quickly dried off. He really was tired and longed for his bed. He ignored the silk pyjamas that the house-elves had set out for him and went to his chest of drawers. He pulled open the bottom drawer and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out an old red t-shirt and brought it to his face. Draco inhaled the lingering smell. It still smelled of Harry; thanks in large part to a spell Draco had found. He imaged that it had been created by a lonely wife whose husband left her for long periods of time.
He placed the beloved item on the bed and dressed. He would have worn the garment, but was sure that it would stop smelling of Harry if he used it. Instead the climbed into bed and placed the red shirt next to him on the pillow. Inhaling deeply and pretending that Harry was sleeping right next to him. Draco could just about pretend that he had not seen the man he loved getting engaged. He could almost pretend that Harry still loved him. He could almost pretend that he was still happy.
Draco fell asleep to the memory of falling asleep in the arm of his lover, the man he had loved, and loved still.
~*~♥~*~
Draco was on a bed; he was naked and blindfolded. He should have been scared, but instead he felt secure. He thought about why that was and that’s when he felt the presence of another man. He was standing next to the bed, also naked. The sightless Draco did not have to see to know this. The man, though he was looming over him, did not feel threatening. Draco instead felt protected.
“Please.” The whispered word fell from his lips and echoed in the room, wrapping him and the other man in a blanket of need. He was suddenly desperately hard and he knew his companion was in a similar state, despite still being unable to see.
The bed dipped as the other man climbed onto it. Draco could feel him warmth radiating from the man now. He was like a furnace that just caused Draco’s temperature to climb and climb.
The man leaned over Draco and grabbed his left hand. Draco moan the contact sent sparks up his arm and seemed to warm his heart. The man leaned over him and started whispering. The words ghosted over Draco. The words caressed him.
“You are mine now Draco Malfoy. The Mark that Voldemort had placed on you to claim you will no longer burden you.” Draco felt that man run fingers over where the shadow of the Dark Mark was on his left arm. It had not disappeared when the mad man had dies, but it had faded; more so for Draco since he had never killed for that crazy shadow of a human. The touch at first felt cool, but then his arm started to heat up, not quite enough to hurt. “No one else is allowed to claim you or mark you as long as I live.”
The man let go of Draco’s hand and place his arm flat on the bed.
“Do you understand Draco?”
Draco tried to nod, but he could not move. He did not want to move, he was too comfortable, too safe. “Yes.” He could feel the man smile at his response.
“Good. I must leave now, but we shall see each other soon.” The man left the bed, but before he was gone, Draco felt him touch the platinum ring on his left hand. Draco smiled.
~*~♥~*~
Draco woke up feeling refreshed. He turned his head and unconsciously buried his face in Harry’s scent. For a moment he let himself believe that Harry had spent the night, that he had only left moments ago. But he knew that was not true. He threw the sheet off and got out of bed. He took the shirt with him, renewed the spell on it and then placed it back in its safe place.
Draco went into the bathroom and voided his bladder. He washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and cleansed his face. He performed the rest of his morning ritual and went to dress for a day in his lab.
It was not until he reached into his wardrobe that he looked at his left arm. The Dark Mark was gone! Draco could not believe his eyes. He called Petra and had her examine his arm. He needed proof that the mark was gone. She claimed that his arm was indeed unmarked, not even a blemish or freckle in sight.
“Thank you, Petra, that will be all.” With a pop she was gone, presumably to finish preparing his breakfast.
Draco could not stop staring at his arm. He walked over to the window in order to examine his arm in the sunlight. As he held up, he noticed that the sun caught a ring on his left hand. And in that moment his dream of the night before flooded back to him. He also vaguely remembered seeing the ring after he woke up in that horrid love hotel in Tokyo.
Draco had forgotten all about it! He went to remove it, but could not remove it. No matter how hard to tried, it would not budge. He went in search of his wand and rattled off a number of spells at it. The damned ring stayed on his finger.
Why was it on his finger? Draco racked his brain trying to remember if he ever read about enchanted or cursed rings.
After some time, a memory of his childhood came to him.
~*~*~
He was five, maybe six. He had been sitting in his mother’s lap as she read to him from The Tales of Beedle the Bard. When she had finished the story and closed the book, the light had caught the rings on her left finger and made them glitter like stars.
“Mommy, why do you have stars on your fingers?”
His mother had laughed and explained that they were not stars, but her engagement and wedding bands. Draco had asked her if he could hold them. However, she had said that she was not allowed to remove them. When her and his father had been married the rings had been charmed on and could only be removed if they divorced of if something grave happened to one of them.
~*~*~
Draco looked down at his hand in horror. It could not be a wedding band! It just was not possible. He tried to remove it again.
By the time he resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to remove it, bonding magic was very powerful after all, he had tears streaming down his face.
He had ruined his life.
~*~*~*~
In a different part of a country, a certain black haired wizard felt a small tug on his own wedding band and smiled. ‘So the blond had finally noticed the ring.’