Warnings: see other chapters… this one is pretty innocent
Disclaimer: I don't own them and am making no money off this little piece of my imagination.
Author's Note: The song lyrics, on the other hand, do belong to me. The same goes for any characters that you don't recognize from the works of J.K. Rowling. As usual constructive criticism is more than welcome. I know it's short but I hope you enjoy!
Painted
roses with my dripping blood
Plucked
feathers from my broken wings
Made
mock'ry of an innocent love
Darkness
flowed like heat through your veins
Oh the
past, it left its scars
And
the future may still break my heart
But
I'm, but I'm still livin
Only
who knows how long for
Watched
salty tears trickling down my cheeks
Made
gaping wounds in once smooth flesh
Left me
praying to a silent God
Pleading
for just one gentle touch
But
I'm, but I'm still livin
Only
who knows how long for
And
one of these days you'll write your name on my grave
Trace
fingertips 'cross defiled stone
Cause
these scars, they'll never go away
The
future can only break this wounded heart
And one
day, one day I'm gonna trip
Knowing
only hell will ever break my fall
One day
My
heart will break
My
wounds will gape
My soul
will cry and
The
devil will be
He'll
be my first loving embrace
Cause of you…
The cool breeze that stole the last notes of the song- ushering them out the window as if afraid that left to their own devices they might decide to defy nature and stay with the one whose voice had so sweetly uttered the depressing melody, was replaced by swirling ruby eyes. Draco smiled.
"You look beautiful today." The miniature figure twirled gracefully and bowed with a flourish- causing her navy garments to flow like a dark storm about her tiny body.
"Only beautiful? Is that all?"
"If it was would you leave?" Alighting on the sheets pooled around his stomach she raised an eyebrow and waited. "Fantastic, remarkable, amazing, stunning…better?"
"So unoriginal. I always knew humans were a lower life form." Draco's laugh was unfettered, and the edge of his companion's lips twitched even as she strove to stay balanced on her moving perch.
"Fanmarkazingumdiddilyumptuous?" She simply buried her face in pale palms and moaned in mock horror. "Worse?" the blond haired man asked with a smirk.
"Much, much, much worse."
"Do I at least get points for creativity?" Peaking between her fingers she shook her head. "Alright then, if you were over a meter taller, and male, I wouldn't be able to tear my eyes away from you. How was that?"
"That's acceptable… I suppose."
Running his good hand through sleep mussed hair Draco reminded her that she hadn't mentioned how he looked.
"You can fish for compliments once someone burns that awful yellow thing you're wearing." A gentle gust of wind interrupted their banter; it tickled the nape of Draco's neck only to be driven away by fingertips; after which it swirled, and looped, and coiled, and danced through pale locks- tugging individual strands all the way. After escaping, it attempted to rush towards freedom only to be trapped by a small hand and shaped into a miniature flute- on which a few notes were played before the harried wind was released to go upon its way. As red met grey Draco felt his smile falter.
"I missed you too, shining one."
Turning away, he let his hair mask a few lonely tears until a tiny hand caressed his cheek, and a little body curled up on his shoulder- hiding under the curtain of his hair as if it could shield them from the outside world.
"It was awful there. It's been so long since I was truly alone."
"We thought you were lost. We couldn't hear you any longer." It was a softly spoken admission- an apology for an imagined wrong.
"I was; maybe I still am."
She pressed her lips to his cheek as the sound of an opening lock filled the silence.
"Your baby goat is back, it seems." was whispered near his ear.
"My baby goat?"
"So very fast. We called him once but he didn't answer. We are just wind to him." Draco nodded as her minute weight and larger warmth disappeared from his shoulder. Her kind was loath to admit lapses of judgment when it came to talent; they prided themselves in having excellent instincts when it came to finding those who were gifted in the way the songs required. Thus, he took the comment for what it was, a warning. It was a reminder that some knowledge was not meant to be shared.
"You make my secrets heavy, beautiful one." The only reply was the "swish" of the wind outside the window.
