Title: The Muse
Rating: T - nothing really graphic happens.
A.N.This was written for the Random Song Challenge started by Katamabob.
I got 'The Muse' by Darren Criss.
He is a really talented performer, so I really recommend you listen to his music. It's fantastic.
Hope you enjoy!
The Muse
You're a diamond I'm afraid to touch.
You're damn near flawless.
Harry was entranced and had been for weeks. It started as hateful watching, a careful observation, but then, the line between love and hate had seemed to thin. Harry had been walking the tightrope for weeks before it happened. He'd fallen, headfirst and there was no way he was getting up from this crash.
You're a dungeon but you're made of glass.
Your prisoners have no idea they're trapped.
It was a Hogsmeade weekend and Ron and Hermione had walked off together but Harry didn't feel upset, or alone. He liked it better when he was by himself. It gave himself a chance to think; to think about where his life would lead (if to anything but war, death and despair), and Draco Malfoy; whether or not he was working for Voldemort as a Death Eater and where he kept disappearing to almost every night.
He was merely strolling through Hogsmeade, hands in his pockets, coat and scarf keeping him warm as he faced the strong winds. He wasn't walking anywhere in particular, but he had turned a corner and the scene that was before him did what the harsh winds and bitter cold couldn't.
It stopped him. He froze in his tracks; his eyes which were usually so void of emotion those days were alight in surprise, lust and utter confusion.
Blaise Zabini was being pushed up against the alley wall by the blond headed beauty, his lips being ravaged and his hair messed. They both had their eyes closed as their hands clutched at each others bodies.
"Malfoy," Harry breathed out, his voice drowned out by the wind. His emerald eyes zoned onto the soft looking pink lips that were so desperately looking for another's against them. That's when Harry fell. That's when he knew the thoughts that he'd been thinking the last few weeks weren't based off hate and confusion as to whether or not Draco was Dark, but to whether or not Harry could save him.
He cocked his head as he tried to fully comprehend the situation. Malfoy was homosexual?Harry thought wildly as he merely stood there, when it was quite obvious. His eyes were glued as he saw Malfoy mutter a Warming Charm before pulling away Zabini's jacket and ripping his shirt to reveal a slightly toned chest. Harry's heart beat wildly around in his chest as he thought about what Malfoy was going to do in the middle of the alley. He tried to look away, honestly, he did, but he couldn't help but stare; stare as Malfoy's grey eyes seemed to light up at the sight of Zabini's exposed chest. He attacked his dark collarbone with his mouth and Harry licked his own lips, suddenly very, veryinterested in what was conspiring in front of him. So, imagine his disappointment when Blaise decided to open his eyes and thrash his head about as Malfoy latched onto one of his dark nipples. That didn't go down well. In fact, Zabini had cursed so loudly at the sight of Harry being there that he made Harry stumble back, almost tripping over his own feet. Draco removed his lips from Zabini (Such a pity, Harry thought crazily) and stood up. He turned slowly, his blond hair illuminated by the snow surrounding them, and stared into Harry's eyes. Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. Draco's eyes were piercing his soul, the dark seeded lust consuming his body and the Gryffindor didn't feel quite as brave as he generally felt.
He'd never come across anyone so beautiful. Ginny, who, until quite recently, he believed was quite pretty, couldn't hold a candle to him. Not to this Adonis god-like creature whose hair was being ruffled around in the wind, his chest rising and falling with each of his deep breaths, his deep grey, emotion-filled eyes, and his red, puffed lips almost seemed to pout at Harry, teasing him mercilessly.
'Cause you look so beautiful inside.
It makes us feel like we're alive.
This roar of emotion was flooding through Harry and it felt like all his used emotions from the whole year had decided to awaken him in that very moment. So, perhaps you can forgive him for not being able to do anything but gaze.
It seemed like a wonderful moment, Harry and Draco, two ill-fated warriors for the war, holding the ultimate stare-off, Zabini forgotten until his cursed again and started repairing his shirt with his wand. Harry's eyes broke out of their trance and flickered over to Zabini who was then buttoning up his jacket. Harry slowly looked back at Draco who had cocked his head and was looking at him with a strange look on his face.
But Lord knows we'll never survive your walls.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but no words could emerge. The whole event was shattered as Zabini deemed himself properly dressed and started to pull Draco by the arm out of the alley.
"Keep quiet about this, Potter," Zabini warned as he stormed pass, Draco in tow. All he could give was a quick nod before they left. Harry turned around and watched them leave, the two 'friends' keeping their distance next to each other, their bodies close, but not close enough for their shoulders to graze the other's as they walked back up to the castle.
If Harry didn't know what he was feeling before, he sure knew it when Draco had turned around for a moment, and their eyes locked once more. Draco's eyes being filled with both lust and loneliness, and by Merlin, if it didn't nearly stop Harry's heart. His breath caught in his throat and his steps faltered. The connection of their eyes couldn't have lasted more than a second, but it had an everlasting effect.
But you didn't know that all along.
You didn't need to hear your song.
And if you don't know that
then you might as well be dead.
After that, Harry walked blindly back to Hogwarts, not really seeing the path in front of him, but Draco's haunting eyes and red, bruised lips. Oh, how Harry yearned for Draco. How he yearned to be on the receiving end of Draco's attentions.
That night, when Harry, yet again, checked the Maruader's Map for Malfoy, it wasn't to see if he was going anywhere suspicious, Harry wanted to know if he could meet him without becoming suspicious himself. But, alas, as always, Draco was nowhere to be found. He fretted as he tried to get to sleep that night, hoping that when he went down to breakfast the next morning, he would see Draco alive.
Breakfast came and began consisting of Harry glance towards the Great Hall's door every few moments to see if Draco had arrived. Then, as the Slytherin was inside and seated Harry continued to glance over at him so often that Hermione and Ron began to take notice. Harry brushed them off, saying he was making sure Draco didn't do anything 'suspicious' or 'out of the ordinary.' And he didn't. Draco acted like he had every other morning of 6th year. He had a sip of pumpkin juice, half a slice of buttered toast and was silent as his friends talked around him, only occasionally adding his own opinion or commenting. Harry had long since known Draco's morning routine, but this morning it felt different.
Harry's eyes were trained on his lips as they sipped from his goblet, entranced as his tongue flicked out to catch some crumbs from his toast and enamoured as they pursed in worry. Such a simple act of eating breakfast had turned into one of the most amazing things Harry ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
Medusa's child preserved her former looks
As if Draco felt Harry's gaze, he looked over and Harry was once again frozen. Draco's eyes which were as silver as Harry's patronus was staring him back down, a slight glint of cheekiness and lust hidden in his irises. Harry swallowed and couldn't allow himself to look away. It was only when Zabini tapped him on the shoulder that his piercing eyes left Harry's that he found the strength to distract himself. But needlessly to say, his distraction didn't wait nearly as long enough.
But we still can't leave you alone, the way you move on would be prone
to want to be turned into stone by you
Harry returned after breakfast to staring at Draco as he walked ahead of him to Potions class. Hermione and Ron were arguing about something-or-other but as usual, Harry had zoned them out, merely admiring the way Draco's hair looked in contrast to his dark school robes. When he realised a question had been asked to him, he tried to answer as though he'd been listening the whole time, all the while, his mind just frozen on Draco's hauntingly beautiful look.
She kept her [Medusa's child] out of all the story books
Just to get back at all of the men who had tried time and time again
to claim the right of her demise and end
This type of routine continued for the next few days. Harry would locate, or most nights, as it were, try to locate, Draco, barely sleep, and then watch him throughout breakfast and pretty much whenever he could.
He couldn't help it. He'd fallen off the tightrope and there'd been no safety net to catch him. Harry would pitifully try to locate the part of his brain where he found Draco repulsive, snobbish and rude, but couldn't. It'd been erased from his mind. He couldn't even pretend to hate him. After all, how could you hate someone you loved?
Yes, although Harry despised using the word, it seemed the only one to fit. His days seemed to drag on endlessly and without fully focusing on what was happening around him other than what Draco was doing.
A million years go by and you're still around
You're knocking us off of our feet, you're knocking us down
It had been about a month after the incident at Hogsmeade when Harry was heading to the Library to actually attend to some homework when he saw them - Draco and Zabini, at it again in a hidden alcove. This time, Harry couldn't watch and he was no longer frozen with fear.
"Can't you just do it in your own bloody dorm?" Harry asked angrily, his voice, he realised, showing more emotion in it than it had in weeks.
The couple paused, their heads turning in unison.
"We were in a hidden alcove before you decided to walk in," Zabini pointed out, obviously feeling very annoyed that Harry had, once again, interrupted them.
But we still can't leave you alone, the way you move on would be prone
to want to be turned into stone by you
"Well I'm sorry if you decided to have your little tryst in broad daylight where anyone could walk in, and obviously did," Harry retorted hotly, noticing that Draco's eyes seemed more alive than ever before.
"Look, Potter, it's none of your business. Why don't you just walk away?" Zabini asked, frustrated.
"Blaise, it's fine. I'm not feeling the greatest anyway," Draco muttered, running his fingers through his hair. Zabini's head flew to his.
"What? You were fine a minute ago!" he protested loudly.
"Yeah, Blaise, and now I'm not. So why don't you just go bugger off?" Draco asked, his voice barely higher than it had been before. Zabini seemed ready to open his mouth up again but Draco stopped him, his voice stronger this time. "Leave, Zabini."
But didn't you know that all along
You didn't need to hear your song
And if you don't know that
then you might as well be dead
Harry barely moved as Zabini growled and pushed passed him, ramming his shoulder into his, trying to knock him off balance. The Gryffindor had been secretly hoping and fearing the time when Draco and he would be alone together. He barely knew what to think, let alone say. Draco didn't either, apparently, so they both stood there in silence for a few moments before Harry's eyes rested on Draco's lips, which were once again red and slightly bruised from kissing. That seemed to spur Draco on. He took a tentative step forward, which gave Harry the bravery to take two. Draco took one more, the distance between them almost covered, but Harry seemed frozen to take the final step in their great dance, unable to move his body toward the one thing he really wanted.
You're a diamond I'm afraid to touch.
You're damn near flawless and I'm sure you'd cut on my
eyes, my hands, my head, my heart
There was silence for a few more moments before Draco uttered those two beautiful words:
"Kiss me."
Harry charged forward, his hands grabbing Draco's face as lightly as he could, before pressing his lips to the blond's. And, oh sweet Merlin, yes! His lips were just as amazingly soft and delicious as Harry had imagined them to be.
You make me feel so alive...
Was it how you arrived? I can't tell
Harry no longer cared about his and Draco's history, for it was no longer important. All that was important to him was Draco was his eventually and was wrapped up in his arms. He'd never felt more alive.
Harry sighed happily in his bed and snuggled back up to the body beneath him. He rested his head on the very toned chest of Draco and closed his eyes, his exhausted body already lulling him into sleep. The Gryffindor smiled contently as two arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. He was already asleep, however, when Draco smirked quite sinisterly at his sleeping body.
Your prisoners have no idea they're trapped...