Chapter 2: Hush
By Vahn thorren and RedHawk
Disclaimers: Never have. Never will. Fuck off, I know!
Notes: This was...Weird. I wrote this really fast. I'll rewrite it or revise. It's weird. It's supposed to be awkward and jumpy, since it's based on a set of flash backs, none of which are in order, just like memory. Heh. Something is strange though, I'll fix it eventually. (actually if you're reading this, I have fixed it so ta da!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember your laugh. Melodic and sweet until it would hit that slightly nasal pitch at the end. Not the prettiest of sounds, I still loved it, it belonged to you. The corniest thing I'll ever let pass these lips. Lips you kissed so frequently, they belonged to you for a time. were you waiting for something to save you, to save someone even then?
I remember the first day back from that fateful winter holiday. You were so quiet, so just off balance. Even I, your would-be tormentor, noticed the change. The things we always remember.
* * *
"Why so quiet Potter? Brooding over another set of parents dumping you on someone else's door stoop?" Quiet, Harry stares at the floor, he isn't listening. Hit the nail on the head did I?
"Go fuck yourself" Weasely spits at me, jumping at the chance to act like the loyal lapdog he is. Really couldn't he come up with anything better? Ron turns, giving a Harry a strange look, he shifts awkwardky.
"Why I'm flattered you fancy my *proportions* as those of such a great stature, though I'm afraid to inform you it's otherwise physically impossible." I say in such a matter a fact tone he simply mutters something unintelligible and looks away.
"Speaking of latent homosexual urges, why have you decided to grace us with your presence?" Hermione's voice dripping with disdain.
"Just thought I'd come and welcome my favorite group of peers back to the school" The smile plastered to my face like a shower decal. She should not have gone there. Refraining from biting the smug grin off her face, I turn and leave. Stupid mudblood.
* * *
I still remember the smell of your skin, all those nights just inhaling the scent of your flesh. Like cream and cheap muggle soap, you always used to to scrub yourself with the same brand even after you could afford better. It's essence lingers in my bed even now.
That day, the way you were so defensive. In this place between stoic and nervous. A walking conflict. Even I, with my just got fucked attitude, could see. Something here was gone. A wound healing around something hollow. Like a missing limb, still twitching in shock. You were barely there. Blending, blurring in to the scenery, the questioning faces and the awkward silences. I cornered you later that day in that abandoned classroom you seemed so taken with. What about me made you finally open your mouth? Relentless teasing heals all wounds I guess.
* * *
"Oh really Potter, what has turned you in to this avid conversationalist, hm?" you say nothing, you just get up to leave. I side step you, blocking the exit. I brush your lips with my index finger."Is it perhaps you've found a better use for your mouth than to speak with?" You stop your attempts to get past me and slap my hand away. Finally going to say something are you?
"Don't touch me, Malfoy." I don't get ignored. I'm far from done yet, pushing you back against the wall.
"Don't you want to play, Potter?"You shove me off, with more strength than I thought you to posses. Falling to the floor, looking right through me, you lunge. Clawing at me, fierce and vicious. Kicking, screaming like mad man. You've really lost it this time, He's going to kill me I think to myself as my fist connects with the side of his face. Well I'll give you a struggle.
"How could you, I trusted you! Why?! I'll kill you, don't you dare touch me ever again! Siri-s you fuckin-" He's crying. Barely forming the words to voice his anger. My knee buries itself in his stomach. I push him off me. Straddle him and hold him down with the weight of my own body. Which you could easily liberate yourself of. I throw a few more punches before I hear the sobbing voice.
"What the f-"
"Please, I'm sorry, I won't tell." I desist rather abruptly, surprising myself. He's covering his face with his hands, thrashing beneath me. I've torn the front of his robe open, exposing scar after scar. Wound after wound. Scattered across his chest in delicate crosses. Back and forth. Side to side. My eyes and thoughts linger longer than they should on the exposed flesh. You're shuddering, shaking, terrified. I recognize the reaction easily.
* * *
Your hair wasn't black, not really. Well it probably was balck at one point but the sun had lightened it slightly. It was just off black and I think I was the only one who even noticed, not even you.
***
"If you can't be a good son for father, you can be the best fuck for dear old dad. Better than any son you could ever be for me." He pushes my face in to the pillows, pressing his nose against my neck inhaling deeply. I'm on fire. I feel, my father, pressing against me. Kissing me? Oh hell. What the fuck does he thinks he's doing? Father flips me over, positioning me face to face. His tongue in my mouth. My father's tongue in my mouth? Am I in shock, is he kissing me? I'm not going to cry for him anymore, the bastard.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing. I'm not one of your whores. Get you hands off me you disgusti-"
"Hush." he says in such a quiet voice, epitomizing the command itself. I see his fist. The individual hairs quivering. The wind whistling past. The lack of sound in the room. I see it. I never feel it. I never will. I still cry. He'll always best me. He'll be sure. Never once have I been enough. Just don't cry for him. Never. Passive wrists submit. Just stop fighting it Draco. It comes in a flurry of thoughts, a collage of dislocated words and images. Lucius licks the tears from my face. No matter how hard I try, he cuts me open, hollows me out and fills me with his words, spite and dissapoinment, like sand and broken glass.
"All I wanted was a father..." I whisper. It escapes me. I'm numb. I would never have let him hear me say that, ever. He'll alway's pour over me, own me.
"Your father is right here, shut up and swallow."
* * *
With eyes so much more than green.
* * *
"Oh Potter, so you got roughed up. Get over yourself. We don't all have the pleasure of living in this tragic kingdom of yours." He snaps out of his fit. Looking around, realizing his location. I get off him quickly before it registers. He quickly readjusts his clothes, covering the fine incisions. Still on the cold marble floor.
"Malfoy, shut up. You know absolutely nothing about me and my circumstances!" He adds the last bit when he realizes I'm looking, not at him, but at the countless wounds, barely healed. My gaze shifts, I'm looking at him once more. You'd be surprised Harry.
"Enough to tell you to stop crying over it and buck up!"
"Oh really. I guess you would, alll the boys you service!." I never thought he'd ever hit a nerve with such accuracy. Getting up to walk away. Tell me I don't know what I'm talking about, my anger welling up. Insistent, It'll remind me every time. Shut up and swallow Dad had said. The bastard. Stop wasting your time Draco.
"Wait-" he cries, choking on the words, his hand reaching out for me. I make out an "I'm sorry" in his exasperated sigh. He grabs my hand pulling me back. Don't go. The anger is subsiding, replaced with terrible pity. He doesn't want to be alone. Even if it's me. I hate to think it, to know it, I understand. I get it. You'll regret this I tell myself. Well he sure looks good with his clothes undone like that, quickly shaking the thought from my head. Idiot.
"I'm not going anywhere." Even if it's me, ain't that the truth.
* * *
Dear Harry,
How have you been, I have been in good health and times. I have acquired a cabin in
the woods east of the school via Dumbledore. It would make the house warming that
much better if you were here with me. Here is a ticket to Hogsmeade from which you can
walk. I do hope to being seeing you soon.
Sincerely Yours,
Sirius.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews? What do you think of this chapter? don't be too mean now.
By Vahn thorren and RedHawk
Disclaimers: Never have. Never will. Fuck off, I know!
Notes: This was...Weird. I wrote this really fast. I'll rewrite it or revise. It's weird. It's supposed to be awkward and jumpy, since it's based on a set of flash backs, none of which are in order, just like memory. Heh. Something is strange though, I'll fix it eventually. (actually if you're reading this, I have fixed it so ta da!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember your laugh. Melodic and sweet until it would hit that slightly nasal pitch at the end. Not the prettiest of sounds, I still loved it, it belonged to you. The corniest thing I'll ever let pass these lips. Lips you kissed so frequently, they belonged to you for a time. were you waiting for something to save you, to save someone even then?
I remember the first day back from that fateful winter holiday. You were so quiet, so just off balance. Even I, your would-be tormentor, noticed the change. The things we always remember.
* * *
"Why so quiet Potter? Brooding over another set of parents dumping you on someone else's door stoop?" Quiet, Harry stares at the floor, he isn't listening. Hit the nail on the head did I?
"Go fuck yourself" Weasely spits at me, jumping at the chance to act like the loyal lapdog he is. Really couldn't he come up with anything better? Ron turns, giving a Harry a strange look, he shifts awkwardky.
"Why I'm flattered you fancy my *proportions* as those of such a great stature, though I'm afraid to inform you it's otherwise physically impossible." I say in such a matter a fact tone he simply mutters something unintelligible and looks away.
"Speaking of latent homosexual urges, why have you decided to grace us with your presence?" Hermione's voice dripping with disdain.
"Just thought I'd come and welcome my favorite group of peers back to the school" The smile plastered to my face like a shower decal. She should not have gone there. Refraining from biting the smug grin off her face, I turn and leave. Stupid mudblood.
* * *
I still remember the smell of your skin, all those nights just inhaling the scent of your flesh. Like cream and cheap muggle soap, you always used to to scrub yourself with the same brand even after you could afford better. It's essence lingers in my bed even now.
That day, the way you were so defensive. In this place between stoic and nervous. A walking conflict. Even I, with my just got fucked attitude, could see. Something here was gone. A wound healing around something hollow. Like a missing limb, still twitching in shock. You were barely there. Blending, blurring in to the scenery, the questioning faces and the awkward silences. I cornered you later that day in that abandoned classroom you seemed so taken with. What about me made you finally open your mouth? Relentless teasing heals all wounds I guess.
* * *
"Oh really Potter, what has turned you in to this avid conversationalist, hm?" you say nothing, you just get up to leave. I side step you, blocking the exit. I brush your lips with my index finger."Is it perhaps you've found a better use for your mouth than to speak with?" You stop your attempts to get past me and slap my hand away. Finally going to say something are you?
"Don't touch me, Malfoy." I don't get ignored. I'm far from done yet, pushing you back against the wall.
"Don't you want to play, Potter?"You shove me off, with more strength than I thought you to posses. Falling to the floor, looking right through me, you lunge. Clawing at me, fierce and vicious. Kicking, screaming like mad man. You've really lost it this time, He's going to kill me I think to myself as my fist connects with the side of his face. Well I'll give you a struggle.
"How could you, I trusted you! Why?! I'll kill you, don't you dare touch me ever again! Siri-s you fuckin-" He's crying. Barely forming the words to voice his anger. My knee buries itself in his stomach. I push him off me. Straddle him and hold him down with the weight of my own body. Which you could easily liberate yourself of. I throw a few more punches before I hear the sobbing voice.
"What the f-"
"Please, I'm sorry, I won't tell." I desist rather abruptly, surprising myself. He's covering his face with his hands, thrashing beneath me. I've torn the front of his robe open, exposing scar after scar. Wound after wound. Scattered across his chest in delicate crosses. Back and forth. Side to side. My eyes and thoughts linger longer than they should on the exposed flesh. You're shuddering, shaking, terrified. I recognize the reaction easily.
* * *
Your hair wasn't black, not really. Well it probably was balck at one point but the sun had lightened it slightly. It was just off black and I think I was the only one who even noticed, not even you.
***
"If you can't be a good son for father, you can be the best fuck for dear old dad. Better than any son you could ever be for me." He pushes my face in to the pillows, pressing his nose against my neck inhaling deeply. I'm on fire. I feel, my father, pressing against me. Kissing me? Oh hell. What the fuck does he thinks he's doing? Father flips me over, positioning me face to face. His tongue in my mouth. My father's tongue in my mouth? Am I in shock, is he kissing me? I'm not going to cry for him anymore, the bastard.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing. I'm not one of your whores. Get you hands off me you disgusti-"
"Hush." he says in such a quiet voice, epitomizing the command itself. I see his fist. The individual hairs quivering. The wind whistling past. The lack of sound in the room. I see it. I never feel it. I never will. I still cry. He'll always best me. He'll be sure. Never once have I been enough. Just don't cry for him. Never. Passive wrists submit. Just stop fighting it Draco. It comes in a flurry of thoughts, a collage of dislocated words and images. Lucius licks the tears from my face. No matter how hard I try, he cuts me open, hollows me out and fills me with his words, spite and dissapoinment, like sand and broken glass.
"All I wanted was a father..." I whisper. It escapes me. I'm numb. I would never have let him hear me say that, ever. He'll alway's pour over me, own me.
"Your father is right here, shut up and swallow."
* * *
With eyes so much more than green.
* * *
"Oh Potter, so you got roughed up. Get over yourself. We don't all have the pleasure of living in this tragic kingdom of yours." He snaps out of his fit. Looking around, realizing his location. I get off him quickly before it registers. He quickly readjusts his clothes, covering the fine incisions. Still on the cold marble floor.
"Malfoy, shut up. You know absolutely nothing about me and my circumstances!" He adds the last bit when he realizes I'm looking, not at him, but at the countless wounds, barely healed. My gaze shifts, I'm looking at him once more. You'd be surprised Harry.
"Enough to tell you to stop crying over it and buck up!"
"Oh really. I guess you would, alll the boys you service!." I never thought he'd ever hit a nerve with such accuracy. Getting up to walk away. Tell me I don't know what I'm talking about, my anger welling up. Insistent, It'll remind me every time. Shut up and swallow Dad had said. The bastard. Stop wasting your time Draco.
"Wait-" he cries, choking on the words, his hand reaching out for me. I make out an "I'm sorry" in his exasperated sigh. He grabs my hand pulling me back. Don't go. The anger is subsiding, replaced with terrible pity. He doesn't want to be alone. Even if it's me. I hate to think it, to know it, I understand. I get it. You'll regret this I tell myself. Well he sure looks good with his clothes undone like that, quickly shaking the thought from my head. Idiot.
"I'm not going anywhere." Even if it's me, ain't that the truth.
* * *
Dear Harry,
How have you been, I have been in good health and times. I have acquired a cabin in
the woods east of the school via Dumbledore. It would make the house warming that
much better if you were here with me. Here is a ticket to Hogsmeade from which you can
walk. I do hope to being seeing you soon.
Sincerely Yours,
Sirius.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews? What do you think of this chapter? don't be too mean now.