Title: Sound Of My Voice
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: PG-13
Coupling: HP/DM slashy goodness
A/N: You guys have so much control over me. I'm a puppet! Your response to this fic has been soooo amazing that I can't even comprehend it. I mean, in two chapters, I got 75 reviews. That is way beyond anything I've experienced in a long, long time. Because I am just so overwhelmed by happiness, I decided to post another chapter. Granted, this one is super short, almost as short as the first chapter, but I really didn't want to combine it with the next one. Besides, if I did combine it, you wouldn't see it until probably the end of the week. So be happy! And read on!
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It had been a long while since anything had made him happy. When he lived a life such as his, it was quite understandable. Everything he had both witnessed and participated in, they all left scars, both physical and mental. His entire life was filled with nothing but insane rituals and lies.
Which was why he could now breathe again.
Seven months. It was seven months ago to the day that the world was saved, was changed. Seven months ago to the day he had been released from all that had bound him to the past, allowing him a new start.
And he had leapt at the chance. Since then, everything was better. All of this was due to another teen who had been forced to grow up too fast.
Harry Potter.
Even before the war, Draco knew he was greatly affected by the other teen. It was inevitable for two individuals who put so much time and effort into studying each other to not be affected by the other. And Merlin, was he affected. All he had to do was glance at Harry to know that much.
And he did glance. And look. And stare. And think. About everything. Because of this one teen, the entire wizarding world was still standing. It was quite amazing, actually, and unbelievable. And Draco saw that every time he looked at Harry, which was quite often.
But because of this extended looking, he also noticed things he believed others didn't. Sure, it didn't take a genius to see that Harry refused to talk, that he was reluctant to push through his memories and reveal his battle scars. But there was so much more there that he was almost positive no one but he had noticed. One glance at Harry's face told everything. The skin at the curves of his mouth that stretched when he smiled because smiling was a rare commodity these days. The way his skin lost some of its natural bronze color from his lack of flying. When Harry had quit the Quidditch team, Draco had almost immediately resigned. Sure, the game was fun, but there was no real challenge if the only other person who had any real skill had quit.
All of this, it was nothing when compared to Harry's eyes. On good days, his eyes had a slight twinkle to them, almost matching his previous days of carefree happiness. Most of the time, though, his eyes shone an opaque, jaded emerald color that was only a glimmer of what they originally shone. And they showed glimmers of pain laced with guilt. But mostly they possessed a tiredness, an overall exhaustion from going on about each day in a normal routine, from having a plagued sleep if there was sleep at all, even from just being alive.
Draco understood these emotions quite well, as he had experienced them all in the past year. When he betrayed his Slytherin heritage. When he announced his refusal to follow the Dark Lord. When he was kicked out of his parents' house. When he had watched the last sparks of life dwindle from Lucius's eyes due to a curse inflicted by his own son. When his mother had shortly followed. Yes, there were certain wounds that would never heal.
And he had moved on with his life, found a way to deal and resume his normal activities.
Only he wasn't normal. Nothing was normal, especially since a certain teen had fallen and could not lift himself up from the depths of hell in which he currently resided. But Draco would not let that be. He refused. He wanted to be happy again, and he knew that Harry longed to be happy again. So he was going to fix that.
If it took every fiber of his being, if he ended up killing himself in the process, he was going to get Harry to talk.
.
.
.
.
I was going to respond individually to reviews, but that would've been like 50 responses I had to write, and I really don't have the time. I'm supposed to be studying for my Sociology of the Family test that I have tomorrow morning, but I decided to post this chapter instead. So I just wanted to thank everyone profusely for reading and reviewing. I love and appreciate every single one of you! So please continue on in the reading and reviewing because you're just so good at it!
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: PG-13
Coupling: HP/DM slashy goodness
A/N: You guys have so much control over me. I'm a puppet! Your response to this fic has been soooo amazing that I can't even comprehend it. I mean, in two chapters, I got 75 reviews. That is way beyond anything I've experienced in a long, long time. Because I am just so overwhelmed by happiness, I decided to post another chapter. Granted, this one is super short, almost as short as the first chapter, but I really didn't want to combine it with the next one. Besides, if I did combine it, you wouldn't see it until probably the end of the week. So be happy! And read on!
.
.
.
.
It had been a long while since anything had made him happy. When he lived a life such as his, it was quite understandable. Everything he had both witnessed and participated in, they all left scars, both physical and mental. His entire life was filled with nothing but insane rituals and lies.
Which was why he could now breathe again.
Seven months. It was seven months ago to the day that the world was saved, was changed. Seven months ago to the day he had been released from all that had bound him to the past, allowing him a new start.
And he had leapt at the chance. Since then, everything was better. All of this was due to another teen who had been forced to grow up too fast.
Harry Potter.
Even before the war, Draco knew he was greatly affected by the other teen. It was inevitable for two individuals who put so much time and effort into studying each other to not be affected by the other. And Merlin, was he affected. All he had to do was glance at Harry to know that much.
And he did glance. And look. And stare. And think. About everything. Because of this one teen, the entire wizarding world was still standing. It was quite amazing, actually, and unbelievable. And Draco saw that every time he looked at Harry, which was quite often.
But because of this extended looking, he also noticed things he believed others didn't. Sure, it didn't take a genius to see that Harry refused to talk, that he was reluctant to push through his memories and reveal his battle scars. But there was so much more there that he was almost positive no one but he had noticed. One glance at Harry's face told everything. The skin at the curves of his mouth that stretched when he smiled because smiling was a rare commodity these days. The way his skin lost some of its natural bronze color from his lack of flying. When Harry had quit the Quidditch team, Draco had almost immediately resigned. Sure, the game was fun, but there was no real challenge if the only other person who had any real skill had quit.
All of this, it was nothing when compared to Harry's eyes. On good days, his eyes had a slight twinkle to them, almost matching his previous days of carefree happiness. Most of the time, though, his eyes shone an opaque, jaded emerald color that was only a glimmer of what they originally shone. And they showed glimmers of pain laced with guilt. But mostly they possessed a tiredness, an overall exhaustion from going on about each day in a normal routine, from having a plagued sleep if there was sleep at all, even from just being alive.
Draco understood these emotions quite well, as he had experienced them all in the past year. When he betrayed his Slytherin heritage. When he announced his refusal to follow the Dark Lord. When he was kicked out of his parents' house. When he had watched the last sparks of life dwindle from Lucius's eyes due to a curse inflicted by his own son. When his mother had shortly followed. Yes, there were certain wounds that would never heal.
And he had moved on with his life, found a way to deal and resume his normal activities.
Only he wasn't normal. Nothing was normal, especially since a certain teen had fallen and could not lift himself up from the depths of hell in which he currently resided. But Draco would not let that be. He refused. He wanted to be happy again, and he knew that Harry longed to be happy again. So he was going to fix that.
If it took every fiber of his being, if he ended up killing himself in the process, he was going to get Harry to talk.
.
.
.
.
I was going to respond individually to reviews, but that would've been like 50 responses I had to write, and I really don't have the time. I'm supposed to be studying for my Sociology of the Family test that I have tomorrow morning, but I decided to post this chapter instead. So I just wanted to thank everyone profusely for reading and reviewing. I love and appreciate every single one of you! So please continue on in the reading and reviewing because you're just so good at it!