![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
- drabble,
- fic,
- harry/draco,
- hp
Green (H/D)
Title: Green
Raiting: PG
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 444
Author Notes: Crossposted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
harrydraco, written out of boredom and weird Holiday spirit. Beta-ed by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
why_me_why_not! and slightly weird as it took me ten minutes, but oddly satisfying regardless.
Warnings: Um, slight HBP spoilers (haltlos, why hadn't you tell me you hadn't read it?! I think I've spoiled you right and left by now.), and Draco-who-went-over-to-the-light-side.
On Christmas day, 1998, a day after Voldemort’s death, Draco finds himself entering Grimmauld Place, haunted house of his mother’s memories and his own childhood bed stories, Potter’s refuge during the war and the overlooked location of the now-destroyed last Horcrux.
Potter is laying on a graying couch on the living room, the Blacks' family tapestry with Draco’s own name on it on his back, Granger and Weasley fussing over him as he tries to shrug off the multiple bandages around him. Draco coughs from the threshold, a spot of light in the dark room and with eyes to match the coloring of the decaying wall paper.
Three heads turn to him, and Draco wants desperately to smirk as he watches Potter’s Adam apple going up and down anxiously. He doesn’t move from the spot as Potter asks his personal bodyguards to leave them alone in that slightly pathetic, slightly compelling tone of voice that speaks too much of friendship and favors and ‘I’ll tell you later's for Draco’s peace of mind.
Weasley glares at him as he leaves the room, his hair looking far too bright for the house, the same as Potter’s eyes are too bright and unforgettable for Draco’s sanity. They don’t speak for an entire minute, staring at each other in silence as he can see Potter’s arm bleed slowly, turning the bandage deep crimson. When Draco finally moves, he walks in strides as he gets to Potter, throws his head backwards against the couch and kisses him deeply, desperately.
(Grievingly and with mourning and laced a bit with the crying Draco hasn’t allowed himself since the time Potter gave him scars to match his.)
The Dark Mark he had forfeited almost a year ago burns in his arm, but he keeps on kissing Potter, who kisses back just as hungry as him, arms wrapping around his neck and blood painting his pale skin.
“You almost died,” says Draco against Potter’s mouth, uncomfortable in his almost standing position, but not wanting to let go. Potter nods, and he continues, “and I’d told you it was a bad idea, and apparently after so many months of working together you still won’t listen to me, you little shit.”
“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Potter says looking him in the eye, the only color Draco’s world has had since his parents were killed. “And the day I listen to you, Malfoy, is the day the world will end."
Draco decides to let it pass, only because it’s Christmas and the bastard might be probably bleeding to death. So Draco kisses him again, and sinks willingly in the fathomless ocean of Potter’s eyes.
Raiting: PG
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 444
Author Notes: Crossposted at
harrydraco, written out of boredom and weird Holiday spirit. Beta-ed by why_me_why_not! and slightly weird as it took me ten minutes, but oddly satisfying regardless. Warnings: Um, slight HBP spoilers (
haltlos, why hadn't you tell me you hadn't read it?! I think I've spoiled you right and left by now.), and Draco-who-went-over-to-the-light-side.On Christmas day, 1998, a day after Voldemort’s death, Draco finds himself entering Grimmauld Place, haunted house of his mother’s memories and his own childhood bed stories, Potter’s refuge during the war and the overlooked location of the now-destroyed last Horcrux.
Potter is laying on a graying couch on the living room, the Blacks' family tapestry with Draco’s own name on it on his back, Granger and Weasley fussing over him as he tries to shrug off the multiple bandages around him. Draco coughs from the threshold, a spot of light in the dark room and with eyes to match the coloring of the decaying wall paper.
Three heads turn to him, and Draco wants desperately to smirk as he watches Potter’s Adam apple going up and down anxiously. He doesn’t move from the spot as Potter asks his personal bodyguards to leave them alone in that slightly pathetic, slightly compelling tone of voice that speaks too much of friendship and favors and ‘I’ll tell you later's for Draco’s peace of mind.
Weasley glares at him as he leaves the room, his hair looking far too bright for the house, the same as Potter’s eyes are too bright and unforgettable for Draco’s sanity. They don’t speak for an entire minute, staring at each other in silence as he can see Potter’s arm bleed slowly, turning the bandage deep crimson. When Draco finally moves, he walks in strides as he gets to Potter, throws his head backwards against the couch and kisses him deeply, desperately.
(Grievingly and with mourning and laced a bit with the crying Draco hasn’t allowed himself since the time Potter gave him scars to match his.)
The Dark Mark he had forfeited almost a year ago burns in his arm, but he keeps on kissing Potter, who kisses back just as hungry as him, arms wrapping around his neck and blood painting his pale skin.
“You almost died,” says Draco against Potter’s mouth, uncomfortable in his almost standing position, but not wanting to let go. Potter nods, and he continues, “and I’d told you it was a bad idea, and apparently after so many months of working together you still won’t listen to me, you little shit.”
“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Potter says looking him in the eye, the only color Draco’s world has had since his parents were killed. “And the day I listen to you, Malfoy, is the day the world will end."
Draco decides to let it pass, only because it’s Christmas and the bastard might be probably bleeding to death. So Draco kisses him again, and sinks willingly in the fathomless ocean of Potter’s eyes.
no subject
Beautifully written, in either case.
no subject
no subject
So I already knew all you've written. ;)
The drabble was great! Really incharacter and christmassy. ;)
no subject
Thanks! Glad you liked it XD
no subject
We were just like: Oh STFU *please*! *lol*
no subject
no subject
But if she kills Ron or Hermione or even Draco I'm really gonna be unfriendly. *lol*
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thanks!
no subject
I especially liked this part: Potter says looking him in the eye, the only color Draco’s world has had since his parents were killed. *sighs*
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thanks!