Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I won't own Harry Potter in five or ten chapters down the line, either, and this is a universal disclaimer. Also, the main pairings in this collection are M&MWPs, and so credit for them goes to mew-tsubaki and/or Morghen.
Written for the M&MWP Drabble Tag (DeanAngelina, prompt 'cloudless skies'), the Wand Wood Competition (Aspen - Write about a D.A. member), the Gemstone Competition (Agate, write about a Gryffindor), and the As Strong As We Are United Competition.
deanangelina - drawing
Dean looks through his trunk, seeing if there's anything important that he should take on the run with him. The trunk is full of old junk - textbooks, essays, spare parchment, old quills, and some of his old drawings, most of those contained in a sketchbook. He flips through it, chuckling at some of his earliest pictures - from first year, no doubt - and noticing how much he's improved since then. There's lots of drawings of Hogwarts and the scenery around it; Hogsmeade, the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest, and the Whomping Willow, to name a few.
There's one drawing that stands out, though, and it's not of a landscape. It's one of the few drawings that he bothered to color, and he has to admit vainly to himself that it's actually a good picture. It's a drawing of Angelina Johnson on her broomstick, flying under the cloudless skies. There's so much color, so much life, in the picture - the sapphires and azures of the sky, the scarlet and gold of Angelina's Quidditch uniform, the midnight-black of her hair, the smooth brown of her skin. It all contrasts, and brings color to the room - which, although not colorless in appearance, felt so in the atmosphere. Everything's freaking dismal now, Dean thinks.
He thinks back to when he drew this. He remembers it well; it was fifth year, one day after a Quidditch game. He had been so inspired, watching Angelina zoom around the pitch, that he had returned straight to the dormitory and sketched her, then colored it in. It was around this time that he had truly noticed her, and everything spiraled from there. Dean had been so happy that she was in the D.A. as well; it gave him opportunity to see her and admire her, even though they barely spoke.
It had been an interesting year. There was the hellishness of Umbridge, and the looming threat of You-Know-Who, but sometimes, he could forget about that when he was drawing, or talking about pointless things with his friends. It had been the start of the Wizarding world's descent, but it seemed like heaven compared to now, and Dean sighed slightly. To think that he wasn't returning to Hogwarts...to think that he was running away simply because he was a Muggle-born...
He shakes his head free of that thought and looks down at the drawing again. In one move, he rips it free of the sketchbook, tossing that on top of his dresser without a second thought, but holding the picture carefully in his hand. This, he'll keep with him. This will be a memory, a memory of when things were simpler and easier, but especially, a memory of Angelina. He hopes it will bring him happiness at some point this year.
He hopes that one day - when this is all over - they will meet again, and next time, he'll have more courage, like a Gryffindor. Next time, he'll tell her what he felt that year - what he might just still feel.