Warning/Disclaimer/Note: slasher, death, the characters are not for my monetary benefit, yes I realize I am post a TON of one shots but I have a goal to reach and I am on a roll. I will try to finish up I Still Think by Friday as well for anyone who follows that.
Nightmarish
The air hung laden with a frosty chill which reached straight to the marrow. All was foggy, bleak and gray on that particular December morning. No snow graced the Earth with its company, just the biting frost which left the once muddy ground a solid chunk of dirt. Shoes of the finest Italian leather tromped sluggishly along this frozen ground toward a collection of stones in varying size. Arms pulled black spun wool tighter across the frame. Smokey puffs came from the top of a towering figure hunch with cold. Suddenly the prone figure dropped hard to their knees.
A popped collar tugged tightly across the neck contrasted to the pale shading of hair meticulously placed in a perfect coif. A finger stretches out to trace letters on the plain stone in front of the man. Slowly the finger traces a familiar pattern of ridges, curves and dips, much like the body it used to map. The hand pulls back reluctantly and crushes itself back into its pocket. Leather does nothing to ward off the cold, no matter the lining.
Cloudy puffs don't quite reach the stone no matter their attempts. Eyes glisten and sting as tangible dysphoria mixes with icy air. Saline solution does not freeze in the temperature when warmed by the body, and luckily too as it slips down cadaverous cheeks. A feeble life shorn from its life source, a spot of color against the gray, rests by the feet of the stone; a symbol of purity.
A start, a thin sheen of sweat coating the clammy body. Eyelids snap open to be absorbed in dim light of early morning seeping through drawn curtains. A solid, living form breathes on the other half of a shared bed. It was only a nightmare Draco realizes as he settles back against the pillow again. Only a nightmare. Harry was still beside him in their bed, and he was very well not lying beneath any frozen earth. Just one touch will reassure the realness of this person.
Cold. Not just cold, but dead cold. Draco shook his head in disbelief. Harry was alive. Of course he was alive, he was just breathing a second ago. Another start.
Draco's eyes flick open again to find himself near frozen. His joints glued in their current position, hair literally frozen in place, tears frosted across his haggard face. Stiffly the limbs are forced to move, protesting with pain all the while. Black leather covers hands, black spun wool the main frame of a frail body. This could not be. Harry was alive. Draco stared dumbly at the grave stone bearing the name of Harry James Potter. Draco's body twitched violently to the right. That should erase the nightmare and bring about consciousness again.