AN: Just something I dreamt up as I was falling asleep. 'Course, I couldn't
sleep then until I'd sketched down the general idea.... ^_~ I hope you
enjoy anyway.
Title: The Flip Side of the Coin
Summary: Musings on the relationship between Harry and Draco by one of the parties.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Disclaimer: If you can recognise either of these characters, damn. Even I can't tell who's speaking. But they don't belong to me anyway. They belong to this brilliant mastermind that goes by the name JK Rowling.
A coin spins lazily in the air, light flashing golden from its surface. It falls from the summit of its arc and clatters on the cold stone. The dragon winks at the ceiling, the phoenix pressed against the unyielding slate.
A smooth hand emerges from the shadows and plucks up the coin again. It is positioned carefully on an elegant thumb and launched, once more, towards the heavens. For an interminable moment, the coin hangs, suspended. Then gravity reclaims it and it hurtles downwards. Now the phoenix is victorious over the dragon.
The hand emerges again, and the ritual is repeated.
The torchlight flickers across it as the coin begins its descent from the zenith of its arc. It rings - a clear peal - as it hits the stone, spinning on the spot. A soft gasp of wonderment whispers from the shadows.
For the first time, the coin is balanced, precariously, on its edge, both the dragon and the phoenix eyeing the night.
Slowly, steadily so as not to disturb the delicate balance, the owner of the hands emerges from the concealing shadows. He rests his head by the coin, intense eyes fixed on it, slim body stretched out flush with the cold floor. A sigh flits from soft lips and the coin shifts minutely but does not fall.
The boy holds his breath until the coin steadies then lets it out in a quite whisper, talking to himself.
'It won't last. It will fall eventually.' His voice is almost melancholy as he says this, as though he is mourning something else. Something not remotely connected to the fall of the coin.
A hand creeps forward and gently nudges the coin. The phoenix now stares the boy in the eye and a wistful smile flits across his lips. He rolls to his back, careful not to upset the coin.
'And so it now stands, the one time out of the overwhelming many, that neither rises higher than the other.'
For a long moment, silence reigns in the cold room, the boy staring intently into the night, thoughts flitting darkly across his face.
'All of them are wrong about us,' he whispers to the air, or perhaps to some absent other, 'They all suppose that you are my antithesis and I am your nemesis. That in the end, one of us will destroy the other. That there can be no other resolution.'
Another sigh flits from his lips.
'They don't seem to be able to see what we are to one another, even with all the evidence staring them in the face. One dark, the other light. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin. One of us dedicates his life to destroying the Dark Lord. One of us spends his every moment in support of the same black wizard.'
A huff of laughter.
'Would you believe they think us opposites? We are not opposites. We are too similar to be opposite. I can tell what you are thinking when I look you in the eyes. And I know you see through me. If we are opposites, then why can I read you like a book?'
Eyelids slip down over shining eyes.
'We are not opposite. We are reversed. One the negative image of the other. Where I am light, you are dark. What is dark in my soul is light in yours. From my first day here, you were intruding on my life. Forcing me to measure myself against you. And it isn't just you and me. Your friends and my supporters are always there, always watching us, comparing us, trying to judge who will be the first to destroy the other.'
The lips twist in wry amusement.
'And yet they still don't understand. They have known the each of us long enough to judge the truth of the situation, but they choose to close their eyes to it. They refuse to see that I will never destroy you, just as you don't have it in you to bring me to an end.'
The head turns to gaze at the stars visible through a high window.
'The closest we'll ever come is when one of us stands victorious above the other. And we'll come that close a thousand times before our lives are done. A thousand confrontations with only two possible outcomes. Either I must win, or you must.'
A flash of the eye as the boy glances sidelong at the coin.
'Or perhaps not. There's always the chance a confrontation will end in stalemate and we'll stand side by side for a moment, however long.'
The eyes fix on the distant window again.
'We live in such a moment now. Neither of us is dominant over the other. And they all know it. They may not understand what it is they see, but they all know this moment will not last. They know the hiatus will end and our battle will resume, each struggling to land on top. But while we know each will survive, they are all wondering if, perhaps, this will be the time when one of us takes out the other permanently.'
A hand drifts to the black-robed chest.
'I suppose, that moment *must* come eventually. But it will never be intentional. Because, though we'll never admit except to ourselves, we both know we need each other. There is no you without me. What you are defines what I am.
The other hand moves up and the fingers knit together across the chest as the boy reiterates.
'We are not opposite. You and I are simply two different aspects of one entity.'
The fingers tighten momentarily and the knuckles turn white.
'Two faces of the same coin. Each balances the other, supports its adversary. There can be no coin without two faces. I could not exist without my reverse in you. When face is up, the other must, perforce, be down. Except for those few brief moments when each faces balances the other upright and both are triumphant.'
The hands drop back to the boy's side and he turns his head.
'It cannot last. It must fall eventually.'
The boy is looking at the coin again.
'Something, some small thing will tip the balance and the coin will fall.'
A soft breath of air gusts about the balanced coin and it wobbles off centre, teetering toward one side. It almost seems to recover its equilibrium for a moment, but then it falls to the floor, a soft click marking the defeat of one of its faces.
But the boy is gone already, and the coin lies still on the lonely floor. The triumphant face glares challengingly towards the ceiling, but no one answers. No one is there to witness which face finally one the battle for supremacy.
AN: So did you enjoy? Basically, I was just procrastinating here. I should really be writing the next chapter for 'The blood connection' or 'Time Warp' or even 'The Chinese Finger-trap', but I have a major case of mental block on each of them, so I sat and fiddled with this one instead.
Now I have to get back to my other stories. I promised myself I'd have in total four chapters to up load by Monday. It's now Saturday night. Eep. XD
Title: The Flip Side of the Coin
Summary: Musings on the relationship between Harry and Draco by one of the parties.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Disclaimer: If you can recognise either of these characters, damn. Even I can't tell who's speaking. But they don't belong to me anyway. They belong to this brilliant mastermind that goes by the name JK Rowling.
A coin spins lazily in the air, light flashing golden from its surface. It falls from the summit of its arc and clatters on the cold stone. The dragon winks at the ceiling, the phoenix pressed against the unyielding slate.
A smooth hand emerges from the shadows and plucks up the coin again. It is positioned carefully on an elegant thumb and launched, once more, towards the heavens. For an interminable moment, the coin hangs, suspended. Then gravity reclaims it and it hurtles downwards. Now the phoenix is victorious over the dragon.
The hand emerges again, and the ritual is repeated.
The torchlight flickers across it as the coin begins its descent from the zenith of its arc. It rings - a clear peal - as it hits the stone, spinning on the spot. A soft gasp of wonderment whispers from the shadows.
For the first time, the coin is balanced, precariously, on its edge, both the dragon and the phoenix eyeing the night.
Slowly, steadily so as not to disturb the delicate balance, the owner of the hands emerges from the concealing shadows. He rests his head by the coin, intense eyes fixed on it, slim body stretched out flush with the cold floor. A sigh flits from soft lips and the coin shifts minutely but does not fall.
The boy holds his breath until the coin steadies then lets it out in a quite whisper, talking to himself.
'It won't last. It will fall eventually.' His voice is almost melancholy as he says this, as though he is mourning something else. Something not remotely connected to the fall of the coin.
A hand creeps forward and gently nudges the coin. The phoenix now stares the boy in the eye and a wistful smile flits across his lips. He rolls to his back, careful not to upset the coin.
'And so it now stands, the one time out of the overwhelming many, that neither rises higher than the other.'
For a long moment, silence reigns in the cold room, the boy staring intently into the night, thoughts flitting darkly across his face.
'All of them are wrong about us,' he whispers to the air, or perhaps to some absent other, 'They all suppose that you are my antithesis and I am your nemesis. That in the end, one of us will destroy the other. That there can be no other resolution.'
Another sigh flits from his lips.
'They don't seem to be able to see what we are to one another, even with all the evidence staring them in the face. One dark, the other light. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin. One of us dedicates his life to destroying the Dark Lord. One of us spends his every moment in support of the same black wizard.'
A huff of laughter.
'Would you believe they think us opposites? We are not opposites. We are too similar to be opposite. I can tell what you are thinking when I look you in the eyes. And I know you see through me. If we are opposites, then why can I read you like a book?'
Eyelids slip down over shining eyes.
'We are not opposite. We are reversed. One the negative image of the other. Where I am light, you are dark. What is dark in my soul is light in yours. From my first day here, you were intruding on my life. Forcing me to measure myself against you. And it isn't just you and me. Your friends and my supporters are always there, always watching us, comparing us, trying to judge who will be the first to destroy the other.'
The lips twist in wry amusement.
'And yet they still don't understand. They have known the each of us long enough to judge the truth of the situation, but they choose to close their eyes to it. They refuse to see that I will never destroy you, just as you don't have it in you to bring me to an end.'
The head turns to gaze at the stars visible through a high window.
'The closest we'll ever come is when one of us stands victorious above the other. And we'll come that close a thousand times before our lives are done. A thousand confrontations with only two possible outcomes. Either I must win, or you must.'
A flash of the eye as the boy glances sidelong at the coin.
'Or perhaps not. There's always the chance a confrontation will end in stalemate and we'll stand side by side for a moment, however long.'
The eyes fix on the distant window again.
'We live in such a moment now. Neither of us is dominant over the other. And they all know it. They may not understand what it is they see, but they all know this moment will not last. They know the hiatus will end and our battle will resume, each struggling to land on top. But while we know each will survive, they are all wondering if, perhaps, this will be the time when one of us takes out the other permanently.'
A hand drifts to the black-robed chest.
'I suppose, that moment *must* come eventually. But it will never be intentional. Because, though we'll never admit except to ourselves, we both know we need each other. There is no you without me. What you are defines what I am.
The other hand moves up and the fingers knit together across the chest as the boy reiterates.
'We are not opposite. You and I are simply two different aspects of one entity.'
The fingers tighten momentarily and the knuckles turn white.
'Two faces of the same coin. Each balances the other, supports its adversary. There can be no coin without two faces. I could not exist without my reverse in you. When face is up, the other must, perforce, be down. Except for those few brief moments when each faces balances the other upright and both are triumphant.'
The hands drop back to the boy's side and he turns his head.
'It cannot last. It must fall eventually.'
The boy is looking at the coin again.
'Something, some small thing will tip the balance and the coin will fall.'
A soft breath of air gusts about the balanced coin and it wobbles off centre, teetering toward one side. It almost seems to recover its equilibrium for a moment, but then it falls to the floor, a soft click marking the defeat of one of its faces.
But the boy is gone already, and the coin lies still on the lonely floor. The triumphant face glares challengingly towards the ceiling, but no one answers. No one is there to witness which face finally one the battle for supremacy.
AN: So did you enjoy? Basically, I was just procrastinating here. I should really be writing the next chapter for 'The blood connection' or 'Time Warp' or even 'The Chinese Finger-trap', but I have a major case of mental block on each of them, so I sat and fiddled with this one instead.
Now I have to get back to my other stories. I promised myself I'd have in total four chapters to up load by Monday. It's now Saturday night. Eep. XD