Round #9
Characters: Draco and Astoria
Genre: Romance and hurt/comfort
Words: 1,096
There's Hope in the Distance
Apparation in the snow was never a good idea because it often lead to splinching and ending up in places that were not wanted. Mainly China. Draco had been to China, glanced around and realised he was not where he had asked and tried again, this time landing only a few blocks from where he had fixed.
He sprawled into the snow, arms locked in whirling tornados as he hit the banks face first.
Slowly, he got to his feet and drew his wand. Draco tapped it to a piece of torn, damp paper and scanned the page over with a profoundly bored expression in all but his eyes which darted about too fast to be casual.
"Inuisibilis vigilum," he whispered."Sit tenebrae obcaecaverunt," he didn't recognize the words within themselves but he knew Latin when he saw it and the words rolled off his tongue as though he was speaking not the words of someone millions of years ago, but his own. Invisible to the watchers. Let the darkness be blinded.
In the snow, Draco cut an odd figure. He was hunched over, hands in pockets and cheeks flushed pink; his lips dry with cold. In the dark, street lamps lit his way like floating fairy lights.
A huge steel-blocked building rose from the ground where snow had begun to settle. Taking a deep breath, Draco crossed the street and pushed through the stainless doors.
He was met by screams. They echoed along the corridors, to the reception desk where a young woman with painted purple nails sat with a crystal orb sat.
"Block 34F," said Draco, his voice rough and brittle as if cracked with glass shards lodged between syllables.
The woman blinked up at him with almost undisguised loathing, although it was slightly camouflaged by her wild hair. She shoved a key towards him before turning back to her tarot cards, running her pianist fingers along them.
Draco stumbled towards the lift and pulled the lever himself. The creaking sound of sliding and twisting vertebrates grated at his ears.
When he stepped out of the left, Draco was immediately hit by a rank wave of smells. Piss and blood and fear heaped and tangled together in a huge mess. Bile rose in the back of his throat and his eyes stung with tears that Draco blinked back hurriedly.
As he walked, he tried to keep his eyes on the floor. It was grey and slightly wet – Draco didn't want to know what with – but sooner or later, he strayed to flicking glances from side to side.
Past blocks A and B, Draco quickened his pace.
Screams echoed around him, chasing him through the corridors. He could feel the eyes, accusing and heavy, resting on his back and following him out of sight.
Out of sight, but never out of mind. That was the beauty of it all.
Faces, concave and desperate and, Merlin, Draco knew those people. Those starved and tortured expressions mingled with hatred and fear and a deep set loathing that all took a back seat as Draco hurried onwards.
Past the E block.
Draco knocked on the door gently before clicking the key into the lock and watching the many bolts and puzzles work into place. The door opened, bringing with it a wave of filth and sweat, and Draco stepped inside; his heart beating out of his chest.
"Draco?" her voice was confused.
He raised his eyes to hers. "I didn't know you were coming today or I would have cleaned up a bit," she motioned around the room with a dry smirk snaking across her face.
The floor was covered in something filmy and shiny – Draco didn't bother asking. He had made that mistake before – and Astoria was simply wearing the threadbare corduroy one-piece that was mandatory for all prisoners of war.
And that was what they all were. Blood-traitors and mudbloods and half-breeds and anyone else who defied Lord Voldemort: through word or look or thought. Draco shuddered.
Astoria stepped closer to him, he could see the freckles splattered across her face like constellations; he could see her eyes clear as crystal and stunningly green; he could feel the warmth of her body jumping to his skin, creating goose bumps up his arms.
"I'm sorry," he said.
They were always the first words he said.
"I know, baby," shushed Astoria, cupping his slim hands around his face. Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, careful not to pull her too hard, knowing all too well how fragile and how easy she was to break. Like a snowflake, melting before anyone can see beyond its ice.
"I didn't know what you'd want," said Draco quietly.
"You," Astoria pulled his face towards her, letting their cheeks brush, before holding him to her, his head resting on her shoulder. "Always you."
"One day, I won't be enough," Draco said softly.
"Never," she promised, tangling her fingers in his blond hair. "You bring the sun and the stars with you. All mussed up in your eyes."
Draco didn't understand what she meant, as so often was the case but he closed his eyes and wished that his forever could be tied up in this moment.
Astoria brought their lips together, hers were chapped and her breath was like rotting meat but Draco twisted his hands to cradle her head and neck, feeling the traces of shorn hair – shorter, even than his – brush against his fingers.
Her heartbeats exploded, he could feel it bashing against his chest, harmonising with his.
Astoria wanted to know everything and Draco told her as much as he could. Yes; the Dark Lord was still around. Yes; Harry Potter was still on the run. No; no one had worked out the flaw in the Dark Lord's plan yet.
Grinning so that her pointed teeth jutted over her lip, Astoria said that as soon as they got out of this dump she would take a shower and buy a house in Spain. Of course, Draco just smiled and told her she was beautiful.
"My hour's up," he said.
Astoria brushed her hand across his face, tousling his hair and crossed the box room to her bed.
They didn't say another word to each other as Draco left the room.
He closed the door just as the flashing security light flashed on again and the wards broke. Astoria curled up into ball, clenching her fists and biting back a triumphant grin.
Every time they beat the Dark Lord's power, defied him and his reign it gave her another spark of hope.
.
Fin
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