Warning-----------------This story contains slash ---- that is homosexual
relationships. The author takes no responsibility for offence taken. YOU
HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Disclaimer----------------all characters belong to the goddess J.K.Rowling. This is a non-profit work of fanfiction purely written for the purposes enjoyment.
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you'll never know, dear
just how much I loved you
you'll probably think this was
just my big excuse
- ani di franco
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I don't move as the rest of the group files out the door and back to their dorms to sleep. There is a heavy weight in my chest, and I am suddenly angry with myself for procrastinating for so long. If I'd only considered my options earlier then maybe I would have some left right now. I clench my hands to stop them shaking.
The fire is dying, now. Occasionally a small flame licks the edges of the glowing embers, but the Common Room has become dim and close, damp like a sauna. I pull my knees to my chest and wriggle deep into the armchair. As a small child, I would nestle into a deep chair just like this. It stood solitary in the library where my Mother's screams could not be heard. A soft whimper escapes my lips at the memory.
"Malfoy?"
My reflexes are lightning-fast as I leap out of the chair and brandish my wand at the speaker. Firelight glints off glass in the darkening space.
"Fuck, Potter." My wand drops to my side but I can still feel the blood pounding against my temples. I wait for the boy to speak but he sits in shadow silently. It unnerves me to see his glasses and not his eyes.
"What are you still doing here?" I ask, finally. His silence grates against me.
"Thinking."
I snort, attempting to regain my composure. "You?"
He ignores my derision. "Are you going to stay or go?"
"What?" He has caught me off-guard again.
"At Hogwarts."
Oh. "I don't really have much choice in the matter."
"Yes, you do!" He is standing, body tensed.
How can one who speaks so strongly be so naive? I lower my head and allow my torso to sink to the floor, hiding the tears that squeeze themselves out uninvited. What will be left of your innocent faith at the end of all of this? What will be left of you?
There are boots in front of me suddenly, knees straddling my legs, arms forcing themselves under my own. He holds my shaking body, croons to me softly as though I am a child. It makes it all somehow hurt that much more, I can't stop, the sobs are racking my body so hard I can barely breathe.
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Sweet boy, gentle boy. We sit side by side and watch the morning sunlight creep across the floor. It is almost breakfast time, soon Dumbledore will be bringing his grave news to the Great Hall; however, the school outside of this room seems like another world right now.
His eyes are closed, but I know he is pretending. I tug gently on a lock of black hair and his mouth lifts at the edges. Being alone with him now, pressing my lips against his neck, it makes the pain in my chest sharpen. How much longer do I have?
I have watched you so long. Wanted you. Wanted to be you. Wanted your friends, your life, your courage, your happiness. The you I have constructed in my head - a you without fear or hate, without violence or lies. This you is everything I cannot be.
I speak none of this aloud. In fact, I have not said a word since you sat down. I cannot afford to sink into heartfelt truths.
Is this the wrong attitude? Surely it is better to be a dead lover than a dead coward? I have spent my life strutting cowardice.
I lean down to his ear, tickle my breath against its skin in such a familiar way. "I love you," I whisper into it. My heart pauses in its rhythm.
His head twists towards mine, smiling, and I can breathe again. He leans forward, hesitantly, and nervous lips seek mine. I shiver with the exquisite beauty of the moment. I have surprised even myself.
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We are walking slowly to the Great Hall for the remainder of breakfast when he tugs on my elbow.
"If you stay," he pauses to glance at me, "they can protect you here."
I open my mouth to dissent, but we are already standing before the massive doors, Dumbledore's voice seeping through the wood. I pull him into a short, intense kiss before moving away silently to the entrance above the dungeons.
Disclaimer----------------all characters belong to the goddess J.K.Rowling. This is a non-profit work of fanfiction purely written for the purposes enjoyment.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
you'll never know, dear
just how much I loved you
you'll probably think this was
just my big excuse
- ani di franco
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
I don't move as the rest of the group files out the door and back to their dorms to sleep. There is a heavy weight in my chest, and I am suddenly angry with myself for procrastinating for so long. If I'd only considered my options earlier then maybe I would have some left right now. I clench my hands to stop them shaking.
The fire is dying, now. Occasionally a small flame licks the edges of the glowing embers, but the Common Room has become dim and close, damp like a sauna. I pull my knees to my chest and wriggle deep into the armchair. As a small child, I would nestle into a deep chair just like this. It stood solitary in the library where my Mother's screams could not be heard. A soft whimper escapes my lips at the memory.
"Malfoy?"
My reflexes are lightning-fast as I leap out of the chair and brandish my wand at the speaker. Firelight glints off glass in the darkening space.
"Fuck, Potter." My wand drops to my side but I can still feel the blood pounding against my temples. I wait for the boy to speak but he sits in shadow silently. It unnerves me to see his glasses and not his eyes.
"What are you still doing here?" I ask, finally. His silence grates against me.
"Thinking."
I snort, attempting to regain my composure. "You?"
He ignores my derision. "Are you going to stay or go?"
"What?" He has caught me off-guard again.
"At Hogwarts."
Oh. "I don't really have much choice in the matter."
"Yes, you do!" He is standing, body tensed.
How can one who speaks so strongly be so naive? I lower my head and allow my torso to sink to the floor, hiding the tears that squeeze themselves out uninvited. What will be left of your innocent faith at the end of all of this? What will be left of you?
There are boots in front of me suddenly, knees straddling my legs, arms forcing themselves under my own. He holds my shaking body, croons to me softly as though I am a child. It makes it all somehow hurt that much more, I can't stop, the sobs are racking my body so hard I can barely breathe.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
Sweet boy, gentle boy. We sit side by side and watch the morning sunlight creep across the floor. It is almost breakfast time, soon Dumbledore will be bringing his grave news to the Great Hall; however, the school outside of this room seems like another world right now.
His eyes are closed, but I know he is pretending. I tug gently on a lock of black hair and his mouth lifts at the edges. Being alone with him now, pressing my lips against his neck, it makes the pain in my chest sharpen. How much longer do I have?
I have watched you so long. Wanted you. Wanted to be you. Wanted your friends, your life, your courage, your happiness. The you I have constructed in my head - a you without fear or hate, without violence or lies. This you is everything I cannot be.
I speak none of this aloud. In fact, I have not said a word since you sat down. I cannot afford to sink into heartfelt truths.
Is this the wrong attitude? Surely it is better to be a dead lover than a dead coward? I have spent my life strutting cowardice.
I lean down to his ear, tickle my breath against its skin in such a familiar way. "I love you," I whisper into it. My heart pauses in its rhythm.
His head twists towards mine, smiling, and I can breathe again. He leans forward, hesitantly, and nervous lips seek mine. I shiver with the exquisite beauty of the moment. I have surprised even myself.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
We are walking slowly to the Great Hall for the remainder of breakfast when he tugs on my elbow.
"If you stay," he pauses to glance at me, "they can protect you here."
I open my mouth to dissent, but we are already standing before the massive doors, Dumbledore's voice seeping through the wood. I pull him into a short, intense kiss before moving away silently to the entrance above the dungeons.