Dream a Little Dream of Me
Jul. 7th, 2003 11:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
changelingFirst bit of (HP) fanfic done for a while...
It is non-slash, and post-post-OOTP, if that makes any sense. There's only really one spoiler for said book, but it's an important one. But you've all read it by now, right?
It was the 22nd of December.
Only three more shopping days until Christmas, Harry thought wildly, deflecting one of Draco's curses with an ease born of practise.
It was a windy day of the sort that may be jovially called 'blustery', although this would give no indication of the strength of the wind, nor the cold which burnt ungloved fingers. It was, to put it bluntly, brass monkeys outside, and Harry had made it all the way to the Malfoy's library without his bones defrosting.
He'd also made it that far without being seen. It wasn't fair, he thought, for things to go so smoothly, only to go pear-shaped the moment he saw his goal.
The Order knew that Lucius Malfoy was away from Malfoy Manor for the whole of this week, doing something unpleasant in the Balkans. Narcissa was long dead; brought to an end by Moody when he found Lupin torturing her with the Cruciatus curse.
I don't think any of us realised how much Sirius' death affected him, thought Harry, feeling that familiar hollow pain behind his breastbone at the thought of his godfather.
They hadn't been able to find out where Draco was, but as it seemed that none of the Death Eaters knew where he was either, and seemed quite happy about the fact, this hardly seemed like much of a concern. Besides, Harry had faced off against Draco countless times. It wasn't as though he presented much of a threat; duelling with Draco was easier than dancing a two-step with Parvati Patil at the Yule Ball. It was an old, familiar script to which they both knew all the words. Besides, what was the likelihood that Harry would manage to find Draco Malfoy, disgrace to both sides of the Wizarding War, when no one else could?
Quite likely, apparently, Harry thought. Draco seemed to exist merely to vex him. The small part of his brain that wasn't watching Malfoy, supplying the next curse, and throwing him out of the way when his counter-curses failed, swore quietly to itself. It seemed a bitter irony indeed that the very Orb he'd come to collect (well, to steal, really) glistered at him from over Draco's shoulder. It was getting rather distracting.
"Somnolentus," Harry said, twirling his wand as Hermione had taught him. Draco, his eyes opening wide at something over Harry's shoulder, threw himself out of the way at the last moment in a very inelegant and un-Malfoylike movement. Harry began to turn before his survival instincts cut in to dodge the curse which had rebounded (irony of ironies) from the Orb behind Draco. The curse hit him on his left shoulder, and he fell to the ground like a severed marionette.
Harry Potter woke up, and had no idea where he was. A warm hand gently touched his shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
It was his mother.
He dragged the fragments of his consciousness together and started piecing them together. He was Harry Potter. Plain old Harry Potter. Not the Boy Who Lived, just Harry Potter, home from Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays. All of that, it hadn't been real. He still felt scattered, bits of the dream impinging rather rudely, dream-memories lingering.
Never knowing his wonderful, frustrating parents. Growing up with his fat-headed cousin.
Little Ginny Weasley lying so cold and still in the Chamber of Secrets, and the horrible knowledge in his twelve-year-old stomach that she was dead.
Sirius falling endlessly through the archway.
Remus screaming through the tears of rage and pain and madness as he tortured Narcissa Malfoy until her mind broke. The quiet sadness in Moody's eyes as he'd broken Remus' wand in two.
His eyes started stinging with unshed tears. His mother put her arms around him and drew him close.
"I'm all right, Mum. Just a bad dream. A really ... bad dream."
His father, who had been watching from the doorway, came over and sat on the other side of Harry, and put his arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry pretended he wasn't seventeen, that he wasn't too old for this. He'd never felt so warm and safe. And right now, there wasn't anywhere else he ever wanted to be.
Draco Malfoy watched Harry Potter as he lay on the stone floor of the library where he had fallen several hours before. Harry's face was flushed, and he was breathing shallowly.
That must have been a bastard of a curse, thought Draco, and immediately made up his mind to tell his father that he had cast it. He had defeated the great Harry Potter. The words were sweet in his mouth, but strangely sickly, as if Draco had just polished off his third jar of boiled sweets. He felt a little queasy. Draco rubbed his bruised elbow absently and kicked Harry in the ribs.
"Good evening, Draco." His father's cold, disaffected voice resonated through the dark library, preserving a little of the flavour of the wind outside in his arctic tones.
"Father, I--"
"Yes, indeed," said his father, cutting him off. "You have captured Harry Potter. Well done."
Draco turned away from his father's indifference to the wilted shape on the ground. "He looks so peaceful, doesn't he?"
Lucius Malfoy stared at his son's bowed head with contempt bordering on loathing. He pointed his wand at the helpless thing on the ground. "Avada Kadavra."
Draco heard his father's footsteps echo away down the corridor. He hugged himself, trying to keep the chill out, and envied Harry's contentment.
On an unrelated note: Fuck. I was supposed to do washing tonight and didn't. I have less than 0 to wear to work tomorrow. Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck.
It is non-slash, and post-post-OOTP, if that makes any sense. There's only really one spoiler for said book, but it's an important one. But you've all read it by now, right?
It was the 22nd of December.
Only three more shopping days until Christmas, Harry thought wildly, deflecting one of Draco's curses with an ease born of practise.
It was a windy day of the sort that may be jovially called 'blustery', although this would give no indication of the strength of the wind, nor the cold which burnt ungloved fingers. It was, to put it bluntly, brass monkeys outside, and Harry had made it all the way to the Malfoy's library without his bones defrosting.
He'd also made it that far without being seen. It wasn't fair, he thought, for things to go so smoothly, only to go pear-shaped the moment he saw his goal.
The Order knew that Lucius Malfoy was away from Malfoy Manor for the whole of this week, doing something unpleasant in the Balkans. Narcissa was long dead; brought to an end by Moody when he found Lupin torturing her with the Cruciatus curse.
I don't think any of us realised how much Sirius' death affected him, thought Harry, feeling that familiar hollow pain behind his breastbone at the thought of his godfather.
They hadn't been able to find out where Draco was, but as it seemed that none of the Death Eaters knew where he was either, and seemed quite happy about the fact, this hardly seemed like much of a concern. Besides, Harry had faced off against Draco countless times. It wasn't as though he presented much of a threat; duelling with Draco was easier than dancing a two-step with Parvati Patil at the Yule Ball. It was an old, familiar script to which they both knew all the words. Besides, what was the likelihood that Harry would manage to find Draco Malfoy, disgrace to both sides of the Wizarding War, when no one else could?
Quite likely, apparently, Harry thought. Draco seemed to exist merely to vex him. The small part of his brain that wasn't watching Malfoy, supplying the next curse, and throwing him out of the way when his counter-curses failed, swore quietly to itself. It seemed a bitter irony indeed that the very Orb he'd come to collect (well, to steal, really) glistered at him from over Draco's shoulder. It was getting rather distracting.
"Somnolentus," Harry said, twirling his wand as Hermione had taught him. Draco, his eyes opening wide at something over Harry's shoulder, threw himself out of the way at the last moment in a very inelegant and un-Malfoylike movement. Harry began to turn before his survival instincts cut in to dodge the curse which had rebounded (irony of ironies) from the Orb behind Draco. The curse hit him on his left shoulder, and he fell to the ground like a severed marionette.
* * *
Harry Potter woke up, and had no idea where he was. A warm hand gently touched his shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
It was his mother.
He dragged the fragments of his consciousness together and started piecing them together. He was Harry Potter. Plain old Harry Potter. Not the Boy Who Lived, just Harry Potter, home from Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays. All of that, it hadn't been real. He still felt scattered, bits of the dream impinging rather rudely, dream-memories lingering.
Never knowing his wonderful, frustrating parents. Growing up with his fat-headed cousin.
Little Ginny Weasley lying so cold and still in the Chamber of Secrets, and the horrible knowledge in his twelve-year-old stomach that she was dead.
Sirius falling endlessly through the archway.
Remus screaming through the tears of rage and pain and madness as he tortured Narcissa Malfoy until her mind broke. The quiet sadness in Moody's eyes as he'd broken Remus' wand in two.
His eyes started stinging with unshed tears. His mother put her arms around him and drew him close.
"I'm all right, Mum. Just a bad dream. A really ... bad dream."
His father, who had been watching from the doorway, came over and sat on the other side of Harry, and put his arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry pretended he wasn't seventeen, that he wasn't too old for this. He'd never felt so warm and safe. And right now, there wasn't anywhere else he ever wanted to be.
* * *
Draco Malfoy watched Harry Potter as he lay on the stone floor of the library where he had fallen several hours before. Harry's face was flushed, and he was breathing shallowly.
That must have been a bastard of a curse, thought Draco, and immediately made up his mind to tell his father that he had cast it. He had defeated the great Harry Potter. The words were sweet in his mouth, but strangely sickly, as if Draco had just polished off his third jar of boiled sweets. He felt a little queasy. Draco rubbed his bruised elbow absently and kicked Harry in the ribs.
"Good evening, Draco." His father's cold, disaffected voice resonated through the dark library, preserving a little of the flavour of the wind outside in his arctic tones.
"Father, I--"
"Yes, indeed," said his father, cutting him off. "You have captured Harry Potter. Well done."
Draco turned away from his father's indifference to the wilted shape on the ground. "He looks so peaceful, doesn't he?"
Lucius Malfoy stared at his son's bowed head with contempt bordering on loathing. He pointed his wand at the helpless thing on the ground. "Avada Kadavra."
Draco heard his father's footsteps echo away down the corridor. He hugged himself, trying to keep the chill out, and envied Harry's contentment.
On an unrelated note: Fuck. I was supposed to do washing tonight and didn't. I have less than 0 to wear to work tomorrow. Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-07-08 05:58 am (UTC)Also, is Harry dead? I'm so confused.
It's very good though. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-07-08 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 09:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-08 06:00 am (UTC)I can't really come up with anything coherent to say, 'cos I have had less than no sleep. But Yay! for this, in any case, and please forgive me my ineloquence. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-07-08 06:22 am (UTC)And believe me, you're just as coherent as I usually am when commenting on a fic. ::) (That's right... that's not a typo. It's... uh... an alien emoticon. Yeah.)
no subject
Date: 2003-07-08 07:14 am (UTC)::)
no subject
Date: 2003-07-09 03:49 am (UTC)You could also have a Choronzon (from Sandman) one thusly: :)) or he could laugh: :DD or be silly: :PP
I think I like the alien one better. ;;)