Originally posted on livejournal, on the 29th of June :P
Title: Equivalence
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG+
Words: 470
Genre: Fluff
Summary: The morning of Harry Potter's 19th birthday he is found near the edge of a cliff with Draco Malfoy. Post-Hog, During the War.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Notes: Written for serpentinelion's July challenge. Oh, and the title has absolutely nothing to do with the fic. I just thought it was a pretty name.
G.G.G.
Harry sat a few feet from the edge of the cliff, staring out into the darkness that was the valley spread out before him. He shivered in the cold, bringing the collar of his cloak closer together with his hand, the material slightly moist and coarse against his skin. A glance to his muggle digital watch told him that he had now been nineteen for twenty-two minutes and fifty-one seconds.
It seemed trivial somehow, out here in the middle of nowhere where there was no indication of which specific day it was, everything was seasons, weather, periods of rain and sunshine, darkness and moonlight.
Eventually the sky became lighter, enabling the scenery below him to swim into view in different shades of grey. A rustle was heard, and he turned around to see Malfoy crawl out of his sleeping bag, running his fingers through the ruffled tresses of his hair. He sauntered over quietly, flopping down on the grass right beside Harry, their elbows bumping.
"Survived another year did you?" His voice was raspy with sleep, but it warmed Harry to hear it instead of the silent night.
"Yeah." Harry agreed.
"Hmm."
"That's all you have to say Malfoy? No 'happy birthday'?"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and gave him an amused look. "I'm not going to congratulate you. You've turned 19, any idiot could have done it."
Harry scowled and looked away over the lightening landscape. The morning dew was lingering in the air and he shivered again.
"But that's no reason for not giving you a present." Malfoy's voice was soft, almost as soft as the lips he pressed against Harry's, the caress light and gentle. Their mouths slid together slowly, Harry's heart beating a hole through his chest as Malfoy's tongue swept over his lower lip and into his mouth. He felt warm, too warm, like a fire had been lit inside him and was trying to burn him from the inside. Even his ears felt hot.
All too soon Malfoy pulled away, leaving Harry's lips with a small peck.
"Why—" Harry opened his eyes to look into Malfoy's smug ones.
"Your present. We're not exactly in the shopping district—and I'm flat broke anyway, I'm not giving you my food because I'm emaciated enough already, and Potter, I am not having sex with your scrawny arse."
Harry felt the air go out of him a little, but his lips were still tingling faintly from the kiss.
"Got to fatten you up first. And besides, I wouldn't want a rug burn. Only finest silk for me, Potter." Malfoy smirked, and Harry's mouth quirked in response.
"Git."
Malfoy just smiled and leaned his head against Harry's shoulder.
The world had brightened to a rosy morning glow by the time they finally moved.
G.G.G.
fin.
Originally this was a little longer, but the word limit was 500, so I cut this bit out (it fits in right after the first sentence):
Darkness could be so innocent, he thought, yet so cruel. It could hold your greatest fear or your most happy memory in its tender grasp. A dangerous edge invisible to your eye only a handful of steps away, the same distance as to the warm breathing person that you loved. Light was what betrayed you, light and sound in thick full layers was what revealed you to the opponent. In the darkness he could hide. He could pretend.
the, the end. (yes, two 'the'. not a typo)
