Summary: Oneshot. Draco Malfoy is standing in the middle of a muggle crowd. Want to guess why?
I've decided to make this into a Series, using (if I can) all the songs from the soundtrack of Queen of the Damned,and maybe even other songs. I'll be posting them as I finish them.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profit from this. Song is "Slept so long", by Jay Gordon of Orgy, part of Queen of the Damned's soundtrack (also, not mine, in case it wasn't obvious).
WARNING: While there is none in this oneshot, this series will eventually be slash (man on man action).
Draco Malfoy stood there, gazing the stage with calculated boredom. He stood out from the crowd, even dressed as a common muggle.
Well, quick mental check. Tight-fitting jeans, black t-shirt, black boots. Silver necklace - portkey, still there- occult wand-holster. His fingers twitched discreetly over the holder, making sure it was still in place. My hair shouldn't be too bad, even with this wind. He hadn't gelled his hair back, wanting to put as much distance from his usual appearance as possible.
He looked nothing like the Malfoy Heir. He was dark, mysterious, mercury eyes piercing through the crowd with an intensity that sent more than a shiver through the spines of those being watched.
But, why would Draco Malfoy, the mudblood and muggle hater, the Death Eater in training, be in a muggle crowd just waiting, as he had done for the last four hours?
Well, it was all due to the music. He was happy with his muggle-free life until he heard that blasted music. It was enchanting, powerful, and it stirred in him some kind of dark, deep emotion that made him feel both angry and sad, caged and free, rebellious and crushed.
He had had to buy one of those bloody mp3 players just to be able to get that song out of his head. Yes, it was only to put it in his ears, blasting loudly from the magic-powered mp3 –it had actually taken him almost three hours to charm it to work by magic, a tricky but interesting project- but it was somewhat better than going around singing muggle music out loud.
When thanks to that gryffindor mudblood Library rat he heard that the group was –at last!- giving a concert…he couldn't miss it, could he?
And that's why the Heir to the Malfoy fortune was standing there, first in line, waiting for the band to reach the stage and start playing.
Finally -finally!- the lights went out. The public started cheering, screaming the band's name into the dark.
A loud voice, augmented by the amplifiers, announced the arrival of the group. The Damned were on stage, for the first time in history, and the crowd went wild.
Spotlights illuminated the musicians, all of them except the singer. He was just at the front, near the edge of the stage, piercing the mass of people with his own bitter gaze, covered by shadows.
The music started playing, at its own frenzied pace, and Draco felt the rhythm pulsing through his veins. But there was still something missing, something he couldn't lose himself in the music without.
A voice started singing, dancing along with the music, embracing it, twisting it, talking behind the words it drew, screaming of darkness, bitterness, solitude.
Survival.
The singer, the voice that talked and whispered and screamed to Draco and let him lose himself. The voice that told him nothing was ever right, that the world was cold and harsh, that sometimes it hurts so much you'd welcome death instead, even thought you were already dead inside. But it was a voice that also spoke of a broken soul, pierced together again and again, that kept fighting in spite of the darkness and the pain and the bitterness.
A voice which spoke of survival.
Walking
Waiting
Alone without a care
Hoping
And hating
Things that I can't bear
Did you think it's cool
To walk right up
To take my life
And fuck it up
Well did you?
Well did you?
The shadows lifted, and Survival was suddenly the focus of all the spotlights and TV screens.
Draco gasped.
Half-lidded bitter green eyes swept through the crowd, immersed in the music, unfocused. His whole body shaking with each word.
Wild black hair fell free down to his waist. Pale skin glowed under the bright light. A faint lightening-shaped scar laid innocently on his forehead.
Harry Potter.
As Draco Malfoy gasped for air the voice kept singing and his mind disconnected, no longer caring that Survival and Potter were the same person, transported by the striking voice into a world of its own creation.
I see hell in your eyes
Taken in by surprise
Touching you makes me feel alive
Touching you makes me die inside
He smiled, a twisted sour smirk that had Draco wondering how this dark, enticing stranger could be the naïve Golden Boy.
Walking, Waiting
Alone without a care
Hoping
And hating
Things that I can't bear
Did you think it's cool
To walk right up
To take my life
And fuck it up
Well did you?
I hate you!
That voice enveloped him, teasing him, alluring, leaving him at the brink of destruction…and he couldn't bring himself to care.
I see hell in your eyes
Taken in by surprise
And touching you makes me feel alive
Touching you makes me die inside
He left himself go with a groan, wishing the song would consume him as it was consuming his mind, wishing that tantalizing sound would never end.
I've slept so long without you
It's tearing me apart too
How'd it get this far
Playing games with this old heart
I've killed a million petty souls
But I couldn't kill you
Draco's whole body was shaking, his eyes darting quickly behind closed eyelids.
I've slept so long without you
I see hell in your eyes
Taken in by surprise
Touching you makes me feel alive
Touching you makes me die inside"
With a final whisper the music quieted down.
He whimpered as the song died, leaving him gasping for air and trying to stop the shivering.
He should leave now, before someone saw him, before that tormenting delicious sound started again, leaving him defenseless.
He shouldn't be listening to that muggle rubbish anyways, so it would be better to turn around now, find a secure alley to disappear into and simply go home, forget this ever happened. Yes, he should do exactly that…
But Draco's feet didn't move an inch, his eyes glued to the stage, focused on Survival's face, lips contorted in a longing, pained smirk, one that nobody else seemed to notice.
And when Survival's, no, Potter's lips brushed the microphone, his ragged breath echoing throughout the place, greeting the crowd, he remained on the same spot. He let himself become transfixed again, craving the mesmerizing sound, waiting for it to take him away, to make him forget.
I'd appreciate any feedback you can give on this story, and if you have any ideas for the series I'll be happy to hear them.
Have a nice day!