Standard Disclaimers Apply as Slash between Harry and Draco follows suit. This is one blur of rubbish that my friend Deb wrote with me as the editor, adding a few of my nostalgia.
A Moment too Soon
Written by: Chaos Silver & BlackSilhouette
blacksilhouette_bs@yahoo.com
Draco Malfoy stared at the murky waters of the lake, the moon basking it with its silver fire, creating a glint among its dark fathoms. The wind touched the young Slytherin's tear stained cheeks, drying the faint wet patches that trickled
down to his chin, marring the Malfoy debonair that veiled his vulnerability. Silver blond strands fell to his bloodshot eyes and he hugged himself in the wind, fighting the urge not to break into pieces, the desire to lose himself to a mindless rapture of eliminating the nightmares as horrible memories came unbidden into his mind, like a harsh wave clasping against a ship at sea.
At the tender age of 16 he was stalwart and adamant, wan but strong willed. They said he was beautiful, perfect; porcelain smooth skin masked the derision reverberating from beneath his skin; gray eyes shimmered with the slightest hint of
two well known emotions-hate and fear- thin pink lips carefully set below his aristocratic nose and high cheekbones. Beneath the unflawed exterior, a burning of normalcy rages.
Draco shut his eyes, shunning the sounds of the outside world, immersing himself in his thoughts, were forbidden boundaries were crossed and fear was replaced with prosperity and peace of mind. He hated it. He hated being himself, being Draco Lucifer Malfoy, heir to the throne of the Malfoy aristocracy and power. He hated himself, hated his parents-their dreams. It had always been their dreams he had to fulfill, their rapacious desire that had had to be quelled and not his. Never his.
All his life, he wanted to be free from the expectations of other people, free from the chains that fettered his soul from ever feeling.
He needed to touch, needed to feel. His soul felt numb.
He never knew what the truth was anymore; somehow obscurity tainted his ability to see through the eyes of the world. He grew up; knowing that the world never ceased to scrutinize you wantonly of your external flaws and you had to hide beneath your soul-turn your imperfection to strength to protect yourself.
Draco lived with adverse criticism from the parents who had scorned the latency of his attributed thirst for rabid revenge and bloodshed. Lucius Malfoy said that a Malfoy does not show any weakness-the a man never did practice what he preached, he had bowed down to Tom Riddle, writhed in pain when he was subjected to the
Cruciatus curse.
Was he worthy of the name 'Malfoy' ?
Dreams were painted black.
Life within the walls of the Malfoy manor was hell, starting with the whips on Draco's back, the scars that clotted the pale skin, the iniquitous maltreating and abusive raping. Draco shuddered and involuntarily brought his hand to his ears, shutting out the sound of Lucius' voice from within his head.
"No father! Please, anything but that!"
"You have to learn some time, Draco!"
"Father, please, it hurts. No!!"
"Defy me again, will you?! Tell on the Professors what is not their business?!"
"Father, please no! I swear, father, I wont tell on you again! Father! Please!"
A tear made its way down his cheek. "I'll kill you Lucius, someday."
Draco shot up from his thoughts and in less than minutes, had discarded himself of his clothing. He stood still as the grass pricked the skin of his feet, bracing himself, the wind caressing the boy's vulnerable body parts and making him shudder.
His chin was leveled with a certain degree of decorum and dignity and he shut his eyes for several moments before bending his knees and diving for the water.
The water was cold and it froze Draco's legs as the boy struggled for movement. He felt his whole body go numb with the iciness of the lake and he waded ever further to the deepest part of the perilous body of water.
The lake was as murky and dark, Draco couldn't see where he was going but he didn't care anymore. Safety was the last thing he thought about at that moment. He wanted to die. If it was the only way to escape the hell that was his life.
His foot caught on a piece of weed and he paddled his legs faster till oxygen ran out of his lungs, filling them with water. He kicked at the weed but it was of no use, it only made it grip tighter at his ankle.
Oxygen ran out of his lungs and water entered his nose.
The world went black.
Draco looked up. He was in a room that was painted white and smelled distinctly of flowers in spring. He had no memory of how he got there but he savored the warmth that radiated in that
place pleasantly. He opened his lips but nothing came out. He struggled to get up but his body felt
rigid for some unknown reason.
He looked around once more; white bars secured around his bed and there was a small cradle not so
far from the door beneath it, a baby blue rug. There was an elf sitting on one of the rocking chairs,
sleeping soundly and rocking back and forth. If this was heaven, he liked it.
Sounds of footsteps ensued and Draco laid eyes to a blond, young woman who came to his side and
smiled. Her hair was tied neatly in a bun, she looked tired but happy-she reached out for Draco and
carried him in his arms.
"You're safe now, my child." She whispered soothingly as Draco nuzzled on her shoulder, little
fingers touching the exposed neck. "Go back to sleep, Draco. Know what mommy is here, I won't let
them take you away again.."
Draco yawned and hugged her with his little arms.
"NARCISSA!"
The woman frantically whipped around, clutching her child's head in her hand, the other arm
cradling around him.
"Lucius, what are you doing back so early?" She looked panicked.
The man called Lucius strode briskly over to them and Draco felt hatred contorting in knots within
his stomach. He didn't like his presence.
"I thought I told you not to come into Draco's room?" Lucius took the baby away and held him in his
arms. "My mother will take care of him for she knows more about bringing up a child than you do!"
"But Lucius, he's my son too." Narcissa was on the verge of tears and she fell to her knees as
Lucius walked away from her. "Lucius, please!"
Draco looked over at Narcissa who was crying on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. He reached out
to her and cried when Lucius walked further away.
***
"Malfoy?"
Draco looked up, dazed. He shut his eyes for a minute and then blinked up at the taller boy hovering above him. Harry kicked him at the leg.
"Potter?"
Harry Potter snorted and he shook his head. "No, Malfoy, the Easter bunny." He remarked sarcastically. "I decided to drop you a visit early this year, figured you might need Easter-sappiness."
Draco snorted but didn't get up. "Where am I?"
"The lakeside." Harry tossed him some clothes. "You were out for a little skinny dipping, forgot you didn't know how to swim and almost drowned if not for me."
Draco clutched the bundle to his chest, realized he was clad less and blushed. "And I bet you only saved me because I was naked."
Harry looked away. "No, not quite." He placed his hands in his pockets.
Draco smirked and slipped into his pants. "Why aren't you looking at me when you speak, Potter?" He asked, unabashed.
"It's because it's only proper that I do so," Harry replied casually, masking the blush that crept to his cheeks. "You
of all people, Malfoy should understand."
"What I understand is that if you've got nothing to hide," He rubbed his scarred wrist and looked up at Harry. "You'd be able to face me when we talk."
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to face him, arms across his chest. However awe devoured annoyance at that one single moment when Harry laid eyes on the young Malfoy who was clad only in a pair of pants, leaving his chest bare.
Harry felt a stirring in his pants as Malfoy's smirk grew. He sauntered over at Harry in graceful strides, placing his arms around his neck. "You know, Potter, I'd always wondered what it would feel like to.." Harry shut his eyes, intoxicated by the nearness of his enemy and Draco let his insinuative words drift off into the breeze, like a thief stealing away into the night. Draco traced the outline of Harry's lips, balled his hand into a fist and punched Harry on the cheek. "Pervert."
Draco pushed Harry away and picked up his shirt from the ground, slipping into it as he strode away. Harry clenched his jaw at some certain extent and scowled darkly after Draco. "Malfoy! Come back here!"
Harry ran after Draco, who, as if on cue, pedaled his legs faster and ran into the general direction of the Forbidden Forest. When the young Slytherin was at least at a distance away from the Gryffindor, he sank to his knees and leaned against the cool bark of a tree.
They were too close, almost touching and he let it slip.
The tears came in streams.
~Fin