Doubts and Spinning Tops
By Kay
Disclaimer: Ayi, I don't own Harry Potter and characters. ^_^;; However, I do happen to steal Draco-chan's pillowcases at night, and therefor own THEM. HAH!
Author's Notes: My angsty Draco fic is back! ::blushes:: Sorry for taking so long- and sorry this part's rushed! I've just been so busy... ::winces:: But, anyway, before anyone asks...
Thank you for the reviews- they mean so MUCH! ::hugs:: And another thing- as of right now, this story will become Harry/Draco slash... perhaps with Blaise/Draco? I'm not sure yet! O.o;; Still deciding what to do with that. Either way, Blaise will be in this story currently... right now as Draco's friends. I'll explain their relationship more later. Will it become more than that, into slash? Er, probably not. ^^;; I WAS doing Harry/Draco. Then again, if anyone's really going to clamour for Blaise/Draco, I could take a 180 turn... ;) Either way, enjoy. It'll develope as it does.
~~~~~~
"What are you thinking about?"
Sunshine falling down in thick, golden waves warms the dark green grass of spring beneath me, unusually warm for this time of year. I don't bother opening my eyes, calmly recognizing the deep voice next to me. This isn't the first time he's found me like this- laying down in a sunspot, down by the Hogwarts lake by myself, completely oblivious to the world.
I can't see him, but it doesn't take a genius to recognize the rustling beside me- a noise you instinctively match with that of someone settling down on the ground. I remain relaxed, limp as a doll, enjoying the warmth of the lonely sun that soaked into my skin through the dark folds of my robes.
He was always impatient, though, Blaise Zabini was. Slytherins aren't known for their waiting skills, and he was definatly no different.
"What are you thinking about?" he repeated, a slight edge of irritation in his voice. I could hear the scowl settled on his face when he looked down at my prone form sprawled out beside him.
"Nothing... everything... all that," I said indifferently, my voice almost rising into sing song.
I could feel Blaise shift next to me, uncomfortable sitting Indian style on the dirt. Usually I would be there with him- but currently, the long tresses of grass and vegetation were cushioning me a bit, even if the longer blades tickled my neck and face. He didn't complain, though. Blaise Zabini wasn't a boy who liked to make pointless comments, I'd discovered. Days would pass, and he would say many things, but they always had a reason and blunt honesty to them.
That's why I never get up and walk away. Had it been anyone else asking me that question, they would have gotten nothing for their trouble but a cold silence and my own annoyed complaining.
"You can't think about nothing and everything at the same time, Draco," Blaise said airily, and I opened my eyes at that, looking at him with a wide, half-taunting gaze. His narrow, dark blue eyes stared from up above, and for a wild moment, I could have sworn I saw a smile flit across his features.
"You can't?" I let my eyes flutter shut again. "And here I could have sworn that's what I was doing..."
"You're weird, Draco." He sighed loudly, content with it, though, and flopped on his back beside me. We did this occassionally, he and I, when no one was watching. Let our mouths run in total nonsense, and just talk- about our lives, about the world, about... well, anything and everything. We weren't... close. Blaise and I had an understanding, a trust.
He's one of the few I trust. Something not a friend, but hardly an enemy.
"I know I'm weird." Sighing gently, I let my hands drift through the soft blades of the grass again. "I have a right to be, though, which is more than I can say for you."
"Heh, yeah. So you think."
"I don't think. A Malfoy never thinks- he just *knows*." We both laughed at that for a while.
It was a welcome distraction, I'll admit. Before he'd shown up, I was doing exactly what I told him, and thinking about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time. Trying to decide what to do with my choices, cursing myself for the random outbreak a few nights ago in the hallway, where I dared to let myself cry again. Again- unacceptable, not more than once...
At least I was alone and no one witnessed the shameful act. That should bring me some comfort, but for the same reason, it makes me feel more lonely and cold than ever. Does that make sense?
Crying is a new exercise to me, but I can already tell it's going to be hard to get used to. Not that I want to get used to it, I have every intention of completely ignoring the urges to give into the growing tendrils of madness gripping my insides. Growing tighter in their hold, I wonder sometimes, if maybe they were there before and I just never noticed.
Doubts. Even in the warmth of this sunlight, I have to shiver. I'm a Malfoy...
I'm not allowed to doubt.
"What's wrong? You're cold on a day like this?" Blaise asks, startling me out of my momentary lapse of attention, reminding me he was still there. He'd seen the slight tremble that raced through me. If it'd been anyone else, I would have been worried. But the Slytherin boy laying next to me is one of the few wizards I know that doesn't... see like everyone else.
"I'm not cold," I told him. "Just thinking. Like I told you."
"Ah. About everything and nothing."
"That sums it up soundly, actually." I can't resist a soft sigh, staring up into the wide blue abyss hanging above me like a robin egg canvas, devoid of clouds or dark threats. It's the day summer's envy.
Blaise isn't studying the sky. He's looking at me. Not in a bad, threatening way... more of a curious, calm detachment that should alarm me, but doesn't. I've seen it enough to know he's only taking in the details no one else sees, and-
"You're starting to see things differently, aren't you?"
I allow a smile, or perhaps it was closer to a bitter smirk, for him. "Differently... you could say that. Or you could say I'm losing my bloody mind. I allow both for this occassion, as they're both accurate."
Blaise doesn't respond to the humor in the situation- I can't imagine why.
Instead, he looks at me with serious, flat-open expression eyes that promised nothing but someone to listen to me. I never see that look, not on anyone but him, and that's why I trust him with my words sometimes. He's not like... them.
At times, I think he's in the same predicament as I'm now in. Doubting, hung in imbalance and wildly grabbing for a solid hold.
"My father wants me to join the Dark Lord when I come home." That was getting to the point, I decided firmly, knowing it was what Blaise expected anyway- at least it wouldn't shock him to hear it. In fact, I swear my heart thudded so loudly against the bones of my ribs, almost breaking them, and it was me who was the one shocked to hear it.
"My father wants me to be a Death Eater," I repeated, a slight edge of hysteria I hadn't noticed entering my voice. Squeezing my eyes shut so tightly not even the glow of the sun could get through, I waited for the boy next to me to answer. To say something. Anything.
He didn't let me down. One of the few to not do so.
"You should have expected that. You're surprised?"
"No. Yes. Not really," I admitted, forcing the answer out from the dry, parched cavern of my throat. It was like a relief blessed itself upon me, lightening the load on my shoulders immeadiatly. Saying it made it feel real. Made it something I could deal with in a place besides the haunted rooms of my slowly decaying mind.
"I didn't think it would be so... soon. That's all," I mumbled to him. "Soon I'll be joining the Dark Lord with my father, and-"
When I stopped, Blaise turns his face to stare compassionately at me. "And...?"
My shoulders were tense. I let out a tiny sound that didn't seem to be able to come from me at all. "And I won't ever have to come back here." The tiny sound made itself a bit louder, and I realized it was a low, keening sound that struck chords inside- memories of broken china and knowledge that wouldn't be the only thing broken by the night was over.
He pretended he couldn't hear- another reason I talked to him. Fear wasn't a weakness for Blaise, only the denial of it.
"What do you want to do?"
"Does it matter?" I asked bitterly, managing to squash the irrational tunnel of scared jitters wiggling under my skin, by crushing them with heavy, pressing boulder feelings of injustice done to me. "To my father, there's only one way to go... *his* way. There is no other alternatives. I'm going to become a servant of the Dark Lord, help him rise to power again and win the war, learn to be just as powerful as he is-"
"I asked," Blaise said quietly, easily slicing through my anguish ladden, hidden from audibility whispers, "what it was that you wanted, Draco."
There's another long silence, leaving only the gentle, teasing chiding of the wind to fill the empty air hanging above us. The sun that seemed so lovely and warm, that was allowing me to embrace it earlier, filling me with it's overwhelming presence, was now much cooler than I'd thought. Or maybe it was just the change in my moods- maybe I only thought I was warm, and the illusion was shattered.
With this in mind, I tried to find the words to answer Blaise's question. What did I want? No, the real question was what didn't I want. What didn't I have that I would give my near-soul for, the last scraps of life left brimming inside of me.
The question made me want to laugh harshly, yell at him in rage, scowl and ignore it. It made me want to hurt and bleed all over the lovely grass, and most definatly made me overfill with frustration. Words that made me want to cry- again. The days of lying, endless nights of doubting were catching up with me now, crowding on my frame. I felt as though I was carrying them all at once.
It's enough to make me hate him for asking it.
I wanted a life, I wanted to say. I want to ignore the fact that I have to make a choice, just go on doing what I could, and forget responsibility. What did I know about that? I wasn't even an adult yet, and already I was thinking of things that would change the courses of my life forever.
Yes, Blaise. I would tell you what I wanted if I thought it mattered. I'd tell you... I wanted to fly, to be everything that everyone else can be without worrying about it. Whimsical ideas of normalicy was what I wanted. Something solid, warm, to keep the world safe and steady for me while everything else was spinning rapidly, another spinning top, only it would be the world instead of *me* spinning.
I wanted to stop the spinning, the doubts. I wanted to sleep dreamlessly.
But, instead, I casually put a cool, arrogant edge into the sharpness of my voice. I give the answer my father would have ordered me to give, tugging on my puppet strings again.
"I want to make my father proud, of course. I have a family name to bring honor to, you know. I'd be..." I faltered momentarily, but delivered the rest in smooth, flawless script. "I'd be proud to have that sort of privilage. Get away from this rotton, stupid school and the idiots here, back to where I belong. Father thinks I could even become one of Voldemort's right hand men if I try hard enough. Get into the inner circle."
Lies, I thought. Liar, liar, liar-
"That would be nice," Blaise mused, and I couldn't tell from his tone if he was serious or not. "I bet you could do it if you tried."
If... not when. Only I would notice the word changing.
"I know I could." L..i..a...r...
My smirk seems frozen to my features, and something inside of me screams at it to melt. I hated masks, loathed the haunghty voice that ripped through my throat, put there from years of teaching by my father and teacher of these ways. With everyone else, it was acceptable. However, I trusted Blaise- and by showing him my mask, I betrayed his trust.
Suddenly, I felt even more ashamed than I had in the past week or so.
Shame is... burning. I feel sick to my stomache.
"Well, I guess I'd better run up to the Owlery before it closes. I was going there before I came," Blaise tossed at me casually, stretching in his place and getting up. Quietly, I look up at him, still laying there in humiliation and hurt self-loathing, probably the most pathetic picture on the planet.
I make myself sick sometimes.
"Yeah, okay. See you."
He smiles polietly, distant- not at all the person who listens to me when I have something to say now, completely earasing the Blaise Zabini I know and trust. The distance was lengthened, and although he's only a few hand spaces away, it feels like there's miles and countries between us. An entire continent of endless, lonely, aching land.
I'm such a pathetic idiot at times.
"Take care," I say instead of whispering sorry. I don't know how to apologize.
"I will. You'll be fine, won't you?" The question wasn't sincere.
I open my mouth to tell him I'll be fine- ease his mind- and instead say, "I don't want to be a Death Eater anymore, Zabini."
There's a long silence, in which I refuse to look at his face anymore, and both of us stare up at the endless oceanic sea of skyscape above us. Just him and I, quietly watching a world we can't seem to touch, and would most likely die of pleasure if we could. Nothing but the heavy world we're enveloped by.
Finally, he says in the softest voice imaginable to my delicate hearing,
"I know."
I know I'm forgiven now, and when I smile, he grins at me and lights up the load on my shoulders. Nochantly, as though he meant to stay all along, he flops back down on the grass beside me, and laughs just a little. Not a funny laugh, or a bitter one, but something more like relief and sadness mixed together. Next, he speaks first, before I've had a chance to comment on it.
"Hey, Draco?"
"Hmm...?" The sun's dimming now, is evening really that close?
Blaise sighs softly, and I feel his elbow brushing mine, warm but just as faint and unsteady as my own. Safe anchors never exist with us Slytherins- and yet we can't manage to float away. The irony nearly kills me.
"I don't want to be a Death Eater, either, Draco."
This time, the irony doesn't surprise me, and I smile as simply as he has to me in the past.
"I know."
We looked at each other at the same time, locking our eyes together, vivid blue with tarnished silver, and cracked identical grins of understanding. Somewhere in the midst, confession had led to more than what I expected- and something told me things would be a little easier to take from now on. Doubts are easier to carry and understand when someone else is there to share them.
Out of the middle of nowhere, I had found friendship, and although my troubles loomed like a black smoked omen on the horizen, they were held off just for a moment.
For a moment, my... my friend and I could just enjoy the upcoming sunset.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
END part three: ^_^ Yay! It's... um... done! And Part Four WILL make more sense and be longer, yes it will... and before you ask most likely, Blaise will be in this story more, but only as Draco's very good FRIEND. ::pauses:: Um, so far. My muses HAVE been known to be evil and insist on more, but I really think that I'll settle for wonderful, lovely friendship. ^_^ YAY! Harry/Draco slash starts next chapter- er, rather- it starts to FORM in next chapter. The real slash doesn't really progress until chapter... um... six, I believe. ::blushes:: Sorry! Eheh... thanks again, reviews! You make my day! ::hugs:: Take caaaare! I'll have a better part next time!
Daisuke!Muse: Hah! Your refridgerator is running! With the pineapple!
~~~~~~~~~~~
By Kay
Disclaimer: Ayi, I don't own Harry Potter and characters. ^_^;; However, I do happen to steal Draco-chan's pillowcases at night, and therefor own THEM. HAH!
Author's Notes: My angsty Draco fic is back! ::blushes:: Sorry for taking so long- and sorry this part's rushed! I've just been so busy... ::winces:: But, anyway, before anyone asks...
Thank you for the reviews- they mean so MUCH! ::hugs:: And another thing- as of right now, this story will become Harry/Draco slash... perhaps with Blaise/Draco? I'm not sure yet! O.o;; Still deciding what to do with that. Either way, Blaise will be in this story currently... right now as Draco's friends. I'll explain their relationship more later. Will it become more than that, into slash? Er, probably not. ^^;; I WAS doing Harry/Draco. Then again, if anyone's really going to clamour for Blaise/Draco, I could take a 180 turn... ;) Either way, enjoy. It'll develope as it does.
~~~~~~
"What are you thinking about?"
Sunshine falling down in thick, golden waves warms the dark green grass of spring beneath me, unusually warm for this time of year. I don't bother opening my eyes, calmly recognizing the deep voice next to me. This isn't the first time he's found me like this- laying down in a sunspot, down by the Hogwarts lake by myself, completely oblivious to the world.
I can't see him, but it doesn't take a genius to recognize the rustling beside me- a noise you instinctively match with that of someone settling down on the ground. I remain relaxed, limp as a doll, enjoying the warmth of the lonely sun that soaked into my skin through the dark folds of my robes.
He was always impatient, though, Blaise Zabini was. Slytherins aren't known for their waiting skills, and he was definatly no different.
"What are you thinking about?" he repeated, a slight edge of irritation in his voice. I could hear the scowl settled on his face when he looked down at my prone form sprawled out beside him.
"Nothing... everything... all that," I said indifferently, my voice almost rising into sing song.
I could feel Blaise shift next to me, uncomfortable sitting Indian style on the dirt. Usually I would be there with him- but currently, the long tresses of grass and vegetation were cushioning me a bit, even if the longer blades tickled my neck and face. He didn't complain, though. Blaise Zabini wasn't a boy who liked to make pointless comments, I'd discovered. Days would pass, and he would say many things, but they always had a reason and blunt honesty to them.
That's why I never get up and walk away. Had it been anyone else asking me that question, they would have gotten nothing for their trouble but a cold silence and my own annoyed complaining.
"You can't think about nothing and everything at the same time, Draco," Blaise said airily, and I opened my eyes at that, looking at him with a wide, half-taunting gaze. His narrow, dark blue eyes stared from up above, and for a wild moment, I could have sworn I saw a smile flit across his features.
"You can't?" I let my eyes flutter shut again. "And here I could have sworn that's what I was doing..."
"You're weird, Draco." He sighed loudly, content with it, though, and flopped on his back beside me. We did this occassionally, he and I, when no one was watching. Let our mouths run in total nonsense, and just talk- about our lives, about the world, about... well, anything and everything. We weren't... close. Blaise and I had an understanding, a trust.
He's one of the few I trust. Something not a friend, but hardly an enemy.
"I know I'm weird." Sighing gently, I let my hands drift through the soft blades of the grass again. "I have a right to be, though, which is more than I can say for you."
"Heh, yeah. So you think."
"I don't think. A Malfoy never thinks- he just *knows*." We both laughed at that for a while.
It was a welcome distraction, I'll admit. Before he'd shown up, I was doing exactly what I told him, and thinking about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time. Trying to decide what to do with my choices, cursing myself for the random outbreak a few nights ago in the hallway, where I dared to let myself cry again. Again- unacceptable, not more than once...
At least I was alone and no one witnessed the shameful act. That should bring me some comfort, but for the same reason, it makes me feel more lonely and cold than ever. Does that make sense?
Crying is a new exercise to me, but I can already tell it's going to be hard to get used to. Not that I want to get used to it, I have every intention of completely ignoring the urges to give into the growing tendrils of madness gripping my insides. Growing tighter in their hold, I wonder sometimes, if maybe they were there before and I just never noticed.
Doubts. Even in the warmth of this sunlight, I have to shiver. I'm a Malfoy...
I'm not allowed to doubt.
"What's wrong? You're cold on a day like this?" Blaise asks, startling me out of my momentary lapse of attention, reminding me he was still there. He'd seen the slight tremble that raced through me. If it'd been anyone else, I would have been worried. But the Slytherin boy laying next to me is one of the few wizards I know that doesn't... see like everyone else.
"I'm not cold," I told him. "Just thinking. Like I told you."
"Ah. About everything and nothing."
"That sums it up soundly, actually." I can't resist a soft sigh, staring up into the wide blue abyss hanging above me like a robin egg canvas, devoid of clouds or dark threats. It's the day summer's envy.
Blaise isn't studying the sky. He's looking at me. Not in a bad, threatening way... more of a curious, calm detachment that should alarm me, but doesn't. I've seen it enough to know he's only taking in the details no one else sees, and-
"You're starting to see things differently, aren't you?"
I allow a smile, or perhaps it was closer to a bitter smirk, for him. "Differently... you could say that. Or you could say I'm losing my bloody mind. I allow both for this occassion, as they're both accurate."
Blaise doesn't respond to the humor in the situation- I can't imagine why.
Instead, he looks at me with serious, flat-open expression eyes that promised nothing but someone to listen to me. I never see that look, not on anyone but him, and that's why I trust him with my words sometimes. He's not like... them.
At times, I think he's in the same predicament as I'm now in. Doubting, hung in imbalance and wildly grabbing for a solid hold.
"My father wants me to join the Dark Lord when I come home." That was getting to the point, I decided firmly, knowing it was what Blaise expected anyway- at least it wouldn't shock him to hear it. In fact, I swear my heart thudded so loudly against the bones of my ribs, almost breaking them, and it was me who was the one shocked to hear it.
"My father wants me to be a Death Eater," I repeated, a slight edge of hysteria I hadn't noticed entering my voice. Squeezing my eyes shut so tightly not even the glow of the sun could get through, I waited for the boy next to me to answer. To say something. Anything.
He didn't let me down. One of the few to not do so.
"You should have expected that. You're surprised?"
"No. Yes. Not really," I admitted, forcing the answer out from the dry, parched cavern of my throat. It was like a relief blessed itself upon me, lightening the load on my shoulders immeadiatly. Saying it made it feel real. Made it something I could deal with in a place besides the haunted rooms of my slowly decaying mind.
"I didn't think it would be so... soon. That's all," I mumbled to him. "Soon I'll be joining the Dark Lord with my father, and-"
When I stopped, Blaise turns his face to stare compassionately at me. "And...?"
My shoulders were tense. I let out a tiny sound that didn't seem to be able to come from me at all. "And I won't ever have to come back here." The tiny sound made itself a bit louder, and I realized it was a low, keening sound that struck chords inside- memories of broken china and knowledge that wouldn't be the only thing broken by the night was over.
He pretended he couldn't hear- another reason I talked to him. Fear wasn't a weakness for Blaise, only the denial of it.
"What do you want to do?"
"Does it matter?" I asked bitterly, managing to squash the irrational tunnel of scared jitters wiggling under my skin, by crushing them with heavy, pressing boulder feelings of injustice done to me. "To my father, there's only one way to go... *his* way. There is no other alternatives. I'm going to become a servant of the Dark Lord, help him rise to power again and win the war, learn to be just as powerful as he is-"
"I asked," Blaise said quietly, easily slicing through my anguish ladden, hidden from audibility whispers, "what it was that you wanted, Draco."
There's another long silence, leaving only the gentle, teasing chiding of the wind to fill the empty air hanging above us. The sun that seemed so lovely and warm, that was allowing me to embrace it earlier, filling me with it's overwhelming presence, was now much cooler than I'd thought. Or maybe it was just the change in my moods- maybe I only thought I was warm, and the illusion was shattered.
With this in mind, I tried to find the words to answer Blaise's question. What did I want? No, the real question was what didn't I want. What didn't I have that I would give my near-soul for, the last scraps of life left brimming inside of me.
The question made me want to laugh harshly, yell at him in rage, scowl and ignore it. It made me want to hurt and bleed all over the lovely grass, and most definatly made me overfill with frustration. Words that made me want to cry- again. The days of lying, endless nights of doubting were catching up with me now, crowding on my frame. I felt as though I was carrying them all at once.
It's enough to make me hate him for asking it.
I wanted a life, I wanted to say. I want to ignore the fact that I have to make a choice, just go on doing what I could, and forget responsibility. What did I know about that? I wasn't even an adult yet, and already I was thinking of things that would change the courses of my life forever.
Yes, Blaise. I would tell you what I wanted if I thought it mattered. I'd tell you... I wanted to fly, to be everything that everyone else can be without worrying about it. Whimsical ideas of normalicy was what I wanted. Something solid, warm, to keep the world safe and steady for me while everything else was spinning rapidly, another spinning top, only it would be the world instead of *me* spinning.
I wanted to stop the spinning, the doubts. I wanted to sleep dreamlessly.
But, instead, I casually put a cool, arrogant edge into the sharpness of my voice. I give the answer my father would have ordered me to give, tugging on my puppet strings again.
"I want to make my father proud, of course. I have a family name to bring honor to, you know. I'd be..." I faltered momentarily, but delivered the rest in smooth, flawless script. "I'd be proud to have that sort of privilage. Get away from this rotton, stupid school and the idiots here, back to where I belong. Father thinks I could even become one of Voldemort's right hand men if I try hard enough. Get into the inner circle."
Lies, I thought. Liar, liar, liar-
"That would be nice," Blaise mused, and I couldn't tell from his tone if he was serious or not. "I bet you could do it if you tried."
If... not when. Only I would notice the word changing.
"I know I could." L..i..a...r...
My smirk seems frozen to my features, and something inside of me screams at it to melt. I hated masks, loathed the haunghty voice that ripped through my throat, put there from years of teaching by my father and teacher of these ways. With everyone else, it was acceptable. However, I trusted Blaise- and by showing him my mask, I betrayed his trust.
Suddenly, I felt even more ashamed than I had in the past week or so.
Shame is... burning. I feel sick to my stomache.
"Well, I guess I'd better run up to the Owlery before it closes. I was going there before I came," Blaise tossed at me casually, stretching in his place and getting up. Quietly, I look up at him, still laying there in humiliation and hurt self-loathing, probably the most pathetic picture on the planet.
I make myself sick sometimes.
"Yeah, okay. See you."
He smiles polietly, distant- not at all the person who listens to me when I have something to say now, completely earasing the Blaise Zabini I know and trust. The distance was lengthened, and although he's only a few hand spaces away, it feels like there's miles and countries between us. An entire continent of endless, lonely, aching land.
I'm such a pathetic idiot at times.
"Take care," I say instead of whispering sorry. I don't know how to apologize.
"I will. You'll be fine, won't you?" The question wasn't sincere.
I open my mouth to tell him I'll be fine- ease his mind- and instead say, "I don't want to be a Death Eater anymore, Zabini."
There's a long silence, in which I refuse to look at his face anymore, and both of us stare up at the endless oceanic sea of skyscape above us. Just him and I, quietly watching a world we can't seem to touch, and would most likely die of pleasure if we could. Nothing but the heavy world we're enveloped by.
Finally, he says in the softest voice imaginable to my delicate hearing,
"I know."
I know I'm forgiven now, and when I smile, he grins at me and lights up the load on my shoulders. Nochantly, as though he meant to stay all along, he flops back down on the grass beside me, and laughs just a little. Not a funny laugh, or a bitter one, but something more like relief and sadness mixed together. Next, he speaks first, before I've had a chance to comment on it.
"Hey, Draco?"
"Hmm...?" The sun's dimming now, is evening really that close?
Blaise sighs softly, and I feel his elbow brushing mine, warm but just as faint and unsteady as my own. Safe anchors never exist with us Slytherins- and yet we can't manage to float away. The irony nearly kills me.
"I don't want to be a Death Eater, either, Draco."
This time, the irony doesn't surprise me, and I smile as simply as he has to me in the past.
"I know."
We looked at each other at the same time, locking our eyes together, vivid blue with tarnished silver, and cracked identical grins of understanding. Somewhere in the midst, confession had led to more than what I expected- and something told me things would be a little easier to take from now on. Doubts are easier to carry and understand when someone else is there to share them.
Out of the middle of nowhere, I had found friendship, and although my troubles loomed like a black smoked omen on the horizen, they were held off just for a moment.
For a moment, my... my friend and I could just enjoy the upcoming sunset.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
END part three: ^_^ Yay! It's... um... done! And Part Four WILL make more sense and be longer, yes it will... and before you ask most likely, Blaise will be in this story more, but only as Draco's very good FRIEND. ::pauses:: Um, so far. My muses HAVE been known to be evil and insist on more, but I really think that I'll settle for wonderful, lovely friendship. ^_^ YAY! Harry/Draco slash starts next chapter- er, rather- it starts to FORM in next chapter. The real slash doesn't really progress until chapter... um... six, I believe. ::blushes:: Sorry! Eheh... thanks again, reviews! You make my day! ::hugs:: Take caaaare! I'll have a better part next time!
Daisuke!Muse: Hah! Your refridgerator is running! With the pineapple!
~~~~~~~~~~~
