Title: Have A Heart, Draco
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: PG-13
Coupling: HP/DM slash
A/N: Don't ask me where this idea came from. I have no answer. It's pretty twisted. But if you need a fluffy pick-me-up, go read Have A Heart, Harry. It's the companion piece to this one, and not so twisted. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
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It was pointless. All of it.
Just having his eyes open made Harry Potter cringe. Everywhere he looked, he was greeted with flamboyant Valentine's decorations. Practically every inch of Hogwarts was saturated with pinks and reds, and it was enough to make Harry want to gouge out his eyes.
He wasn't against the holiday as a whole, necessarily. In fact, one would think he would be celebrating enthusiastically along with the rest of the school's occupants. But he wasn't, not by a long shot.
No, he didn't dislike the holiday; it just fell at a bad time this year. After all, just the day previous had seen the end of the war.
Luckily the Light side suffered very minimal casualties. Harry supposed that gave everyone something to celebrate, to be happy about.
But he wasn't.
In fact, he was quite tired. Of everyone giving him sympathetic glances. Of everyone asking if he was all right when it should have been obvious to them what inherently asinine questions they were asking. Of course he wasn't all right! He just fought in a damned battle the day before! That in itself should have told them something.
He didn't want to think about the details, about anything that happened that day. He had been traumatized enough in his life. Besides, the battle somehow felt incomplete, and he didn't know why. Voldemort was dead; Harry had stripped him of his powers until just his Muggle body remained, and then he had transfigured a rock into a knife and stabbed Voldemort through the heart, just standing and watching, listening until the last scream died down, until his chest rose and fell for the last time.
And then he had left.
His job was done. Nowhere in that damned prophecy did it say anything about rounding up the Death Eaters. So he left that to everyone else. They could handle it. And if not...
Oh well.
His friends had tried desperately to get him into the Valentine's spirit this morning. He politely declined all of their offerings and suggestions, telling them that he didn't want to partake in a holiday that celebrated everything he didn't have. Family. Loved ones.
They were all dead. Just like Voldemort.
Sitting in the Great Hall, Harry was paying no attention to the conversations around him. Instead his eyes wandered over to the other side of the room, over to the Slytherin table. He wasn't surprised in the least when his gaze locked onto none other than Draco Malfoy, who happened to be staring right back at him.
Just before the war, the two had had a... fling, of sorts. No flowery 'I love yous' or anything of that nature. But they were physically and mentally connected in a way that Harry had never felt with another person. They had something--what, he wasn't quite sure, but it was something.
He watched as the blonde rose from his seat and began crossing the room, a pristine white box in his hands. Harry stood to meet him halfway, carrying an almost identical box.
They could feel everyone's eyes on them, hear the furtive whispering hum over the hush of the room. Wordlessly, the two traded boxes.
Gingerly lifting the lid, Harry's lips quirked. Inside was a literal bloody mess, a no-longer-beating heart with Harry's transfigured knife embedded into it. Well, now he knew that Voldemort's body would never come back.
He motioned for Draco to open his box. And when he did, his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin. "Is this..."
"Have a heart, Draco. Lucius's."
Both boxes hit the floor at the same time, two sickening, squishy plops sounding as the hearts hit the cold stone. Harry pulled Draco into a rough kiss, ignoring the gasps around them. Breaking apart just slightly, Harry mumbled against Draco's lips, "This day may not be so bad after all."
.
.
.
.
See, what did I tell you? Twisted to the nth degree. But I had soooo much fun writing it! I really did. Anyway, please review! I love reviews like I love Harry and Draco (ok, maybe not *that* much, but pretty close). Your comments mean the world to me! Oh, and please go read the companion piece!
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: PG-13
Coupling: HP/DM slash
A/N: Don't ask me where this idea came from. I have no answer. It's pretty twisted. But if you need a fluffy pick-me-up, go read Have A Heart, Harry. It's the companion piece to this one, and not so twisted. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
.
.
.
.
It was pointless. All of it.
Just having his eyes open made Harry Potter cringe. Everywhere he looked, he was greeted with flamboyant Valentine's decorations. Practically every inch of Hogwarts was saturated with pinks and reds, and it was enough to make Harry want to gouge out his eyes.
He wasn't against the holiday as a whole, necessarily. In fact, one would think he would be celebrating enthusiastically along with the rest of the school's occupants. But he wasn't, not by a long shot.
No, he didn't dislike the holiday; it just fell at a bad time this year. After all, just the day previous had seen the end of the war.
Luckily the Light side suffered very minimal casualties. Harry supposed that gave everyone something to celebrate, to be happy about.
But he wasn't.
In fact, he was quite tired. Of everyone giving him sympathetic glances. Of everyone asking if he was all right when it should have been obvious to them what inherently asinine questions they were asking. Of course he wasn't all right! He just fought in a damned battle the day before! That in itself should have told them something.
He didn't want to think about the details, about anything that happened that day. He had been traumatized enough in his life. Besides, the battle somehow felt incomplete, and he didn't know why. Voldemort was dead; Harry had stripped him of his powers until just his Muggle body remained, and then he had transfigured a rock into a knife and stabbed Voldemort through the heart, just standing and watching, listening until the last scream died down, until his chest rose and fell for the last time.
And then he had left.
His job was done. Nowhere in that damned prophecy did it say anything about rounding up the Death Eaters. So he left that to everyone else. They could handle it. And if not...
Oh well.
His friends had tried desperately to get him into the Valentine's spirit this morning. He politely declined all of their offerings and suggestions, telling them that he didn't want to partake in a holiday that celebrated everything he didn't have. Family. Loved ones.
They were all dead. Just like Voldemort.
Sitting in the Great Hall, Harry was paying no attention to the conversations around him. Instead his eyes wandered over to the other side of the room, over to the Slytherin table. He wasn't surprised in the least when his gaze locked onto none other than Draco Malfoy, who happened to be staring right back at him.
Just before the war, the two had had a... fling, of sorts. No flowery 'I love yous' or anything of that nature. But they were physically and mentally connected in a way that Harry had never felt with another person. They had something--what, he wasn't quite sure, but it was something.
He watched as the blonde rose from his seat and began crossing the room, a pristine white box in his hands. Harry stood to meet him halfway, carrying an almost identical box.
They could feel everyone's eyes on them, hear the furtive whispering hum over the hush of the room. Wordlessly, the two traded boxes.
Gingerly lifting the lid, Harry's lips quirked. Inside was a literal bloody mess, a no-longer-beating heart with Harry's transfigured knife embedded into it. Well, now he knew that Voldemort's body would never come back.
He motioned for Draco to open his box. And when he did, his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin. "Is this..."
"Have a heart, Draco. Lucius's."
Both boxes hit the floor at the same time, two sickening, squishy plops sounding as the hearts hit the cold stone. Harry pulled Draco into a rough kiss, ignoring the gasps around them. Breaking apart just slightly, Harry mumbled against Draco's lips, "This day may not be so bad after all."
.
.
.
.
See, what did I tell you? Twisted to the nth degree. But I had soooo much fun writing it! I really did. Anyway, please review! I love reviews like I love Harry and Draco (ok, maybe not *that* much, but pretty close). Your comments mean the world to me! Oh, and please go read the companion piece!
