Never Too Late
By: Catnip
Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'.
A/N: I didn't put much on the details! Me hope you people no mind. I got lazy… Hehe… Well, me hope you like. OOH! Send me reviews after you've read! I like reviews, I need criticism, really bad.
* * *
Chapter 1: Worthwhile Regrets, Shafts of Hope
"I care for you, Hermione."
The devastating sound of thunder had unmercifully drowned out Harry's soft whisper; Hermione couldn't hear. She could only hear the rhythmic pitter- patter of the summer rain, as she gazed out the glass window and into the soaking dimensions of the outside world. She could not believe that only a few moments ago, the world had seemed such a perfect place, with the sun shining above the azure sky with an everlasting light that pried open the depths of her soul, but the rain… The rain seemed to encompass her into its watery paradise, assailing the precious sunlight, and allowing her to feel the inner depths of her emotions that the sun had the habit of blocking from her view.
Right now, she felt… light-headed, giddy, like a young girl would if she was in love. If she was in love… which was the problem, because… she was. With who? She wasn't entirely sure. She snapped back into reality at the last instant, when Harry, feeling unwanted, began to turn away.
"W- what did you say, Harry?" she called, more out of politeness than out of interest.
Harry, tilted his head to the side, and gave her a tiny smile. When he spoke, it was with absolute sincerity. "Nothing," he told her. "I was only leaving."
Hermione regarded him with indifference, but smiled. "Take care, Harry."
He gave only a nod, then strode away. Despite the further protests of Hermione's parents, Harry, garbed in his robes, moved into the dreary rain.
Hermione, still smiling, looked back into the dismal array of clouds. And there, she lost her smile.
Beyond the house, Harry faced the same clouds, tasting the chill of the howling wind, reveling in the rain's moistened awareness. Wholeheartedly, he felt the squall's gloomy countenance resemble his own as he stood silently amidst the falling rain. As of the moment, he could feel nothing more than the deep pit of depression open up before him, swallowing him up into its endless abyss, into the abyss of regret.
The doors of hope had begun to close before he had even noticed, and now, they would no longer open up to him.
He had lost her…
He had come to her too late.
Harry braced himself indignantly, regaining little of his lost pride. With his back set up straight, and his eyes searching the far reaches of the horizon, he walked away, to wander off into the distant road that lay ahead. Behind him, the clouds parted --- ever so slightly --- and a beam of light shone from where he stood.
* * *
Draco clutched his hand close to his chest, his other hand braced against the windowpane. Beside the door, Lucius watched him, as the sound of the sword clattering towards the floor from his son's hand was drowned by the heavy downpour, and the occasional boom of the clasps of thunder. Lucius didn't move, knowing the cause of Draco's distress, and knowing that it was his own fault, but caring not that it was. He had only to wait a little more before both his and his son's troubles would be over. Just a little more time and they would both be free from the tie that bound them both into secrecy.
He watched, and waited.
"Is it troubling you that much, my son?" Lucius drawled, heavily accenting the last word.
Draco's head snapped up, hearing the sound of his father's cynicism. This time, however, he had to be truthful. The pain was nearly unbearable, and he nearly couldn't breath. He answered, "Yes."
Lucius eyed him without much interest, obscuring his actual concern. "Very well," he finally said. "You are dismissed."
Draco nodded. "Thank you," he whispered breathlessly.
His father nodded back, and, sheathing his sword, left.
Draco paid no heed to him, he was too busy thinking how it would all be over soon, how he would no longer need to pretend, for indeed, all of it --- his entire life, his entire being --- had been nothing more than a mere pretense.
His hand clutched at his robe, the pain in his chest continuing to manifest the reminder of who he truly was, of what he truly was.
Vagrantly, he huffed himself into a fit, striding urgently across the cold stone floor and out towards the door. He walked out, feeling the binds constrict the very essence of life out of him before he could even take the tiniest bit whiff of it. He panted across the numerous halls that led to his bedchamber, stomping down the slightest bit of disturbance that blocked his path, leaving two house-elves behind him upon the carpeted floor with broken limbs.
Suffer as I do, he thought. You deserve it more.
He was mad. He was more than mad. If he could permit it, he would now be a raving lunatic. The pain was driving him insane. Everyday, for the past few weeks, there has been nothing more than utter pain. He liked it better when he had been younger. At least then, there hadn't been pain. He knew why… but he didn't like what he knew. It scared him to death.
Damn his genes! Damn everything that had made him the way he was! Had it been any different, he would have never had any trouble at all!
With one last stride, he finally reached his secluded chamber, and locked himself in its silent confines. There, no one will disturb him. There, no one exists but him. It was where he could be whatever he wanted to be, but mostly, whatever he had been raised to be.
"Draco."
Draco let out a disgruntled breath.
It was his mother's voice calling from behind the closed door. He did not want to be disturbed. "Not now, mother," he called out, hoping she'd listen and leave.
"Now," Narcissa persisted.
Letting out an exasperated breath, he furiously swept aside the door, and let the blonde woman in.
"What is it now, mother?" he asked, with exaggerated frustration, as he watched Narcissa take a seat on his four-poster bed.
"Does it hurt?" was all she said, looking up at him with knowing eyes.
Draco took the bait. "Good god, woman! Of course, it hurts!"
"Then, stop it, Draco!" she pleaded, getting up, and grabbing her son by the shoulders. "You can stop it from happening right now! You can cease its continuance. You can live a normal life. If you keep this up, you might as well just be keeping it up for the rest of eternity… if it doesn't work…" Her voice trailed off.
"Mother, I will not ---"
"This is not going to work anymore!" she finally burst out. "They cannot find it! And what if they do find it, but it doesn't work! Draco, think of what might happen to you! You can stop it now, Draco. End it here, and you shall never have to feel that pain again, and you can live happily, knowing who you are."
"Then, you should have thought of that a long time ago, mother," he told her.
"Oh, my child! If only I could have! But your father and I have never expected that it would last this long! We had thought then that the potion would have already been completed by the time you were invited to Hogwarts! We never knew."
"And you don't know."
"My child, please stop this. I have talked to your father, and he may still be inclined to change his mind, if…"
"No. Mother. I shall not," Draco answered with finality. "I'm close to my goal, yours and father's. I am so close. By now, the final phase of the potion will be completed, and I shall be free of the pain and of myself, and become a new person. I shall not ruin what has been my goal ever since birth for nothing more than a whim. Not even one of yours, mother."
Narcissa gaped at him, then, backed away. Calming down, she seated herself once again. "This is not a whim, Draco," she told him. "This is exactly what I want, and I want you to change this absurdity."
"What, and change my principles?"
"What principles!"
"My principles!" Draco countered. "'A person cannot be unless he is set free body and soul'," he quoted. "I want out of this shell you have placed me in, mother. I want out of this body. I want to become a new me. A different me."
"Oh, Draco!" Narcissa stood again. "Whatever body you are in, there will be nothing new. You'll still be… you."
"For goodness' sake, Narcissa!" Draco exclaimed. "You sound like one of those damned Gryffindors!"
"Don't talk to me that way!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me with such disrespect!"
"I'm talking to you with such disrespect! This is my life, mother. I choose what I choose. I want what I want. And what I want is for you to get the hell out of my room! I'm a man now, mother! I will do as I wish."
Narcissa opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, she stood up from the bed, and stalked away. She opened the door with a silent grace, then, stopped. "No, my child. You are not a man…" She shook her head. "Not yet. And if I can have my way," she smiled, "not ever."
Draco only watched her go as she shut the door behind her, his mother's words piercing him even more than the worsening pain in his chest. He knew the truth. But he didn't want it, for at the end of this year, it will no longer be the truth.
He looked out towards the window and into the rain, ignoring the tiny shaft of light that broke through the heavy clouds. The time of renewal has long past. He cannot withdraw his decision… not now. He would make his father proud. He will not change that.
And already… he knew it was too late.
He shook his head, but no tears came… not like they used to.
* * *
A/N: You like? You like? If you like, REVIEW! If you no like, REVIEW still! ^_^ Me bored.
By: Catnip
Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'.
A/N: I didn't put much on the details! Me hope you people no mind. I got lazy… Hehe… Well, me hope you like. OOH! Send me reviews after you've read! I like reviews, I need criticism, really bad.
* * *
Chapter 1: Worthwhile Regrets, Shafts of Hope
"I care for you, Hermione."
The devastating sound of thunder had unmercifully drowned out Harry's soft whisper; Hermione couldn't hear. She could only hear the rhythmic pitter- patter of the summer rain, as she gazed out the glass window and into the soaking dimensions of the outside world. She could not believe that only a few moments ago, the world had seemed such a perfect place, with the sun shining above the azure sky with an everlasting light that pried open the depths of her soul, but the rain… The rain seemed to encompass her into its watery paradise, assailing the precious sunlight, and allowing her to feel the inner depths of her emotions that the sun had the habit of blocking from her view.
Right now, she felt… light-headed, giddy, like a young girl would if she was in love. If she was in love… which was the problem, because… she was. With who? She wasn't entirely sure. She snapped back into reality at the last instant, when Harry, feeling unwanted, began to turn away.
"W- what did you say, Harry?" she called, more out of politeness than out of interest.
Harry, tilted his head to the side, and gave her a tiny smile. When he spoke, it was with absolute sincerity. "Nothing," he told her. "I was only leaving."
Hermione regarded him with indifference, but smiled. "Take care, Harry."
He gave only a nod, then strode away. Despite the further protests of Hermione's parents, Harry, garbed in his robes, moved into the dreary rain.
Hermione, still smiling, looked back into the dismal array of clouds. And there, she lost her smile.
Beyond the house, Harry faced the same clouds, tasting the chill of the howling wind, reveling in the rain's moistened awareness. Wholeheartedly, he felt the squall's gloomy countenance resemble his own as he stood silently amidst the falling rain. As of the moment, he could feel nothing more than the deep pit of depression open up before him, swallowing him up into its endless abyss, into the abyss of regret.
The doors of hope had begun to close before he had even noticed, and now, they would no longer open up to him.
He had lost her…
He had come to her too late.
Harry braced himself indignantly, regaining little of his lost pride. With his back set up straight, and his eyes searching the far reaches of the horizon, he walked away, to wander off into the distant road that lay ahead. Behind him, the clouds parted --- ever so slightly --- and a beam of light shone from where he stood.
* * *
Draco clutched his hand close to his chest, his other hand braced against the windowpane. Beside the door, Lucius watched him, as the sound of the sword clattering towards the floor from his son's hand was drowned by the heavy downpour, and the occasional boom of the clasps of thunder. Lucius didn't move, knowing the cause of Draco's distress, and knowing that it was his own fault, but caring not that it was. He had only to wait a little more before both his and his son's troubles would be over. Just a little more time and they would both be free from the tie that bound them both into secrecy.
He watched, and waited.
"Is it troubling you that much, my son?" Lucius drawled, heavily accenting the last word.
Draco's head snapped up, hearing the sound of his father's cynicism. This time, however, he had to be truthful. The pain was nearly unbearable, and he nearly couldn't breath. He answered, "Yes."
Lucius eyed him without much interest, obscuring his actual concern. "Very well," he finally said. "You are dismissed."
Draco nodded. "Thank you," he whispered breathlessly.
His father nodded back, and, sheathing his sword, left.
Draco paid no heed to him, he was too busy thinking how it would all be over soon, how he would no longer need to pretend, for indeed, all of it --- his entire life, his entire being --- had been nothing more than a mere pretense.
His hand clutched at his robe, the pain in his chest continuing to manifest the reminder of who he truly was, of what he truly was.
Vagrantly, he huffed himself into a fit, striding urgently across the cold stone floor and out towards the door. He walked out, feeling the binds constrict the very essence of life out of him before he could even take the tiniest bit whiff of it. He panted across the numerous halls that led to his bedchamber, stomping down the slightest bit of disturbance that blocked his path, leaving two house-elves behind him upon the carpeted floor with broken limbs.
Suffer as I do, he thought. You deserve it more.
He was mad. He was more than mad. If he could permit it, he would now be a raving lunatic. The pain was driving him insane. Everyday, for the past few weeks, there has been nothing more than utter pain. He liked it better when he had been younger. At least then, there hadn't been pain. He knew why… but he didn't like what he knew. It scared him to death.
Damn his genes! Damn everything that had made him the way he was! Had it been any different, he would have never had any trouble at all!
With one last stride, he finally reached his secluded chamber, and locked himself in its silent confines. There, no one will disturb him. There, no one exists but him. It was where he could be whatever he wanted to be, but mostly, whatever he had been raised to be.
"Draco."
Draco let out a disgruntled breath.
It was his mother's voice calling from behind the closed door. He did not want to be disturbed. "Not now, mother," he called out, hoping she'd listen and leave.
"Now," Narcissa persisted.
Letting out an exasperated breath, he furiously swept aside the door, and let the blonde woman in.
"What is it now, mother?" he asked, with exaggerated frustration, as he watched Narcissa take a seat on his four-poster bed.
"Does it hurt?" was all she said, looking up at him with knowing eyes.
Draco took the bait. "Good god, woman! Of course, it hurts!"
"Then, stop it, Draco!" she pleaded, getting up, and grabbing her son by the shoulders. "You can stop it from happening right now! You can cease its continuance. You can live a normal life. If you keep this up, you might as well just be keeping it up for the rest of eternity… if it doesn't work…" Her voice trailed off.
"Mother, I will not ---"
"This is not going to work anymore!" she finally burst out. "They cannot find it! And what if they do find it, but it doesn't work! Draco, think of what might happen to you! You can stop it now, Draco. End it here, and you shall never have to feel that pain again, and you can live happily, knowing who you are."
"Then, you should have thought of that a long time ago, mother," he told her.
"Oh, my child! If only I could have! But your father and I have never expected that it would last this long! We had thought then that the potion would have already been completed by the time you were invited to Hogwarts! We never knew."
"And you don't know."
"My child, please stop this. I have talked to your father, and he may still be inclined to change his mind, if…"
"No. Mother. I shall not," Draco answered with finality. "I'm close to my goal, yours and father's. I am so close. By now, the final phase of the potion will be completed, and I shall be free of the pain and of myself, and become a new person. I shall not ruin what has been my goal ever since birth for nothing more than a whim. Not even one of yours, mother."
Narcissa gaped at him, then, backed away. Calming down, she seated herself once again. "This is not a whim, Draco," she told him. "This is exactly what I want, and I want you to change this absurdity."
"What, and change my principles?"
"What principles!"
"My principles!" Draco countered. "'A person cannot be unless he is set free body and soul'," he quoted. "I want out of this shell you have placed me in, mother. I want out of this body. I want to become a new me. A different me."
"Oh, Draco!" Narcissa stood again. "Whatever body you are in, there will be nothing new. You'll still be… you."
"For goodness' sake, Narcissa!" Draco exclaimed. "You sound like one of those damned Gryffindors!"
"Don't talk to me that way!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me with such disrespect!"
"I'm talking to you with such disrespect! This is my life, mother. I choose what I choose. I want what I want. And what I want is for you to get the hell out of my room! I'm a man now, mother! I will do as I wish."
Narcissa opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, she stood up from the bed, and stalked away. She opened the door with a silent grace, then, stopped. "No, my child. You are not a man…" She shook her head. "Not yet. And if I can have my way," she smiled, "not ever."
Draco only watched her go as she shut the door behind her, his mother's words piercing him even more than the worsening pain in his chest. He knew the truth. But he didn't want it, for at the end of this year, it will no longer be the truth.
He looked out towards the window and into the rain, ignoring the tiny shaft of light that broke through the heavy clouds. The time of renewal has long past. He cannot withdraw his decision… not now. He would make his father proud. He will not change that.
And already… he knew it was too late.
He shook his head, but no tears came… not like they used to.
* * *
A/N: You like? You like? If you like, REVIEW! If you no like, REVIEW still! ^_^ Me bored.