Hey! Remember Behind Blue Eyes? Well, here's a sequel! My first sequel! I'm
so friggin' proud I could die! But seriously, I want you guys to enjoy
this. Many of you asked for this and I'm giving it to you. Oh, and
CuriousDreamWeaver, you are the absolute best. You've reviewed every single
one of my fics and I feel as if you are my fan of fans. *tear* Thank you.
Miaka
Waiting (To Tell You) by Miaka Kennyuuki
(Songfic) slash - Draco/Harry PG-13
Summary: Harry contemplates how his life and the lives of those around him have been lived, and the reason he has decided to change.
//I've been waiting for a good day I've been holding back long enough I've been hurting to tell you some things//
"Head on Collision", New Found Glory
*Harry's POV*
Quidditch. The game of wizards. The one thing you can always depend on when things go bad. Did the Quidditch World Cup get canceled because Voldemort was still at large? No! It was still there, helping the people believe that everything would be alright. Granted, the Cup only happened because the Ministry denied Voldemort...but I'm not worrying about that!
That's what I, Harry Potter, was thinking of the morning Draco Malfoy received a letter, turned paler than usual, and let egg fall from his mouth. Strange to be so intent on Quidditch, I know, but if I don't think of something, I revert back to being depressed and unmanageable. People had been dying so frequently around me, it was a wonder that I didn't commit suicide. Came pretty close, but that's another story.
Anyway, Malfoy was much paler than usual, and many stared at him as he read the letter, paled even more, and let his mouth hang open even more. At one point he looked up at Snape, then back at the letter, and started muttering to himself. I thought this was just a tad bit strange. I mean, I'm not an expert on Malfoy, but the fact that he was deathly pale instead of elegantly pale, and that he dropped egg on his designer robes was enough to make even me worry.
And that got me to thinking. Who could be sending him a letter so shocking, so frightening, that he would risk the two most important things in his life -his clothes and his image- because of it. There were only two things, or should I say people, that I could come up with, but I had to cross one off. And I'm pretty sure finding out that he was betrothed to Pansy and she was having his child would elicit a bit more of a reaction than shocked silence.
But that left Lucius Malfoy.
The lord of Malfoy Manor, Lucius Damien Malfoy Esq, though not incredibly well known to me, seemed the type of man to strike fear into the hearts of men. Or boys. Or various animals. The man was an animal himself. I prided myself on my interpretations of character, and I'm pretty sure the man is as much of a bastard as I believe him to be.
Which means that the letter was most likely about Malfoy's initiation into the Death Eater circle. Now here's a fun fact many don't know. Malfoy doesn't want to become a Death Eater. What, don't believe me? Here's another fun fact. The innocent, goody-goody Harry Potter has his own information ring. Everything and everyone who's anything at all, I know about. And Malfoy is the topic of much conversation.
For instance, I knew that Malfoy liked sunsets and walks around the lake simply to enjoy the autumn day. His favorite season is autumn, and Malfoy had a strange craving for parsnips when it rained. The blond Slytherin liked coffee with a dab of chocolate to substitute milk, I got that from a first year, and when it rained Malfoy would sneak out and dance in it, seemingly at his happiest. Also, I knew that he rather like the Weasley twins, that he liked apple juice over pumpkin juice (freakish, I know), and that when he was five he was captured by a Devil's Snare and cried to his Mum and had a huge tantrum. Useless information to some, but it gave me insight into a complex mind.
Recently I'd received an anonymous post (my informants), telling me that they overheard Malfoy telling Blaise Zabini that he didn't want to lick Voldemort's boots like his father. I also now had\ve an extended list of the Malfoy family rules, listed little by little over the years by Malfoy himself. I have great connections in Slytherin. Most of them are friends who fear for Malfoy and expect me to save him. Others just got a kick out of being on my payroll. And yes, I do pay them. What's the point of having so many galleons if I don't use them?
But I digress. I had to leave the Great Hall that morning to go to the Owlry to send a note to one of my people to find out what was in that letter. It was essential to my investigation of Malfoy. Or that's what I tell myself. The truth is, I'm fascinated by the pale blond. Have you ever seen him right after a Quidditch practice, sweaty and flushed, a small smirk on that pale face? No? Well, damn, are you missing out!
Draco Malfoy was perfection in human form, and I'd be damned if I'd spend years in denial like some people were. Fuck that! I wanted Malfoy, and I knew it. Didn't mean I'd tell him I liked him. But I'd been holding back for so long, waiting for a good day to tell him something, anything, as long as it wasn't a cruel word, a hex, or a curse.
Oh well. There will be other days.
***TBC***
Miaka
Waiting (To Tell You) by Miaka Kennyuuki
(Songfic) slash - Draco/Harry PG-13
Summary: Harry contemplates how his life and the lives of those around him have been lived, and the reason he has decided to change.
//I've been waiting for a good day I've been holding back long enough I've been hurting to tell you some things//
"Head on Collision", New Found Glory
*Harry's POV*
Quidditch. The game of wizards. The one thing you can always depend on when things go bad. Did the Quidditch World Cup get canceled because Voldemort was still at large? No! It was still there, helping the people believe that everything would be alright. Granted, the Cup only happened because the Ministry denied Voldemort...but I'm not worrying about that!
That's what I, Harry Potter, was thinking of the morning Draco Malfoy received a letter, turned paler than usual, and let egg fall from his mouth. Strange to be so intent on Quidditch, I know, but if I don't think of something, I revert back to being depressed and unmanageable. People had been dying so frequently around me, it was a wonder that I didn't commit suicide. Came pretty close, but that's another story.
Anyway, Malfoy was much paler than usual, and many stared at him as he read the letter, paled even more, and let his mouth hang open even more. At one point he looked up at Snape, then back at the letter, and started muttering to himself. I thought this was just a tad bit strange. I mean, I'm not an expert on Malfoy, but the fact that he was deathly pale instead of elegantly pale, and that he dropped egg on his designer robes was enough to make even me worry.
And that got me to thinking. Who could be sending him a letter so shocking, so frightening, that he would risk the two most important things in his life -his clothes and his image- because of it. There were only two things, or should I say people, that I could come up with, but I had to cross one off. And I'm pretty sure finding out that he was betrothed to Pansy and she was having his child would elicit a bit more of a reaction than shocked silence.
But that left Lucius Malfoy.
The lord of Malfoy Manor, Lucius Damien Malfoy Esq, though not incredibly well known to me, seemed the type of man to strike fear into the hearts of men. Or boys. Or various animals. The man was an animal himself. I prided myself on my interpretations of character, and I'm pretty sure the man is as much of a bastard as I believe him to be.
Which means that the letter was most likely about Malfoy's initiation into the Death Eater circle. Now here's a fun fact many don't know. Malfoy doesn't want to become a Death Eater. What, don't believe me? Here's another fun fact. The innocent, goody-goody Harry Potter has his own information ring. Everything and everyone who's anything at all, I know about. And Malfoy is the topic of much conversation.
For instance, I knew that Malfoy liked sunsets and walks around the lake simply to enjoy the autumn day. His favorite season is autumn, and Malfoy had a strange craving for parsnips when it rained. The blond Slytherin liked coffee with a dab of chocolate to substitute milk, I got that from a first year, and when it rained Malfoy would sneak out and dance in it, seemingly at his happiest. Also, I knew that he rather like the Weasley twins, that he liked apple juice over pumpkin juice (freakish, I know), and that when he was five he was captured by a Devil's Snare and cried to his Mum and had a huge tantrum. Useless information to some, but it gave me insight into a complex mind.
Recently I'd received an anonymous post (my informants), telling me that they overheard Malfoy telling Blaise Zabini that he didn't want to lick Voldemort's boots like his father. I also now had\ve an extended list of the Malfoy family rules, listed little by little over the years by Malfoy himself. I have great connections in Slytherin. Most of them are friends who fear for Malfoy and expect me to save him. Others just got a kick out of being on my payroll. And yes, I do pay them. What's the point of having so many galleons if I don't use them?
But I digress. I had to leave the Great Hall that morning to go to the Owlry to send a note to one of my people to find out what was in that letter. It was essential to my investigation of Malfoy. Or that's what I tell myself. The truth is, I'm fascinated by the pale blond. Have you ever seen him right after a Quidditch practice, sweaty and flushed, a small smirk on that pale face? No? Well, damn, are you missing out!
Draco Malfoy was perfection in human form, and I'd be damned if I'd spend years in denial like some people were. Fuck that! I wanted Malfoy, and I knew it. Didn't mean I'd tell him I liked him. But I'd been holding back for so long, waiting for a good day to tell him something, anything, as long as it wasn't a cruel word, a hex, or a curse.
Oh well. There will be other days.
***TBC***