Disclaimer: Draco is not mine. Only the gratuitously convoluted plot belongs to me.
Author's Note: here is a short, one-off, 3rd-person-Draco-POV chapter for you on Friday. :) Enjoy!
…
In the deep shadows of a cold stone doorway Draco finally stopped running. He collided with a carved pillar and held on, fighting back sobs. He had thrown off his jacket streets back, left it lying in a puddle. His thin cotton shirt was soaked through, stuck to his skin with rain and cold sweat. Still it rained, freezing water spewing down from on high, as if the gods were crying.
There are no gods!
Draco rested his forehead against the cool stone, his face burning. He couldn't let Potter find him here, like this. He barely had himself under control as it was. He cursed himself, his fingernails splintering as his hands clenched against the stone. How could he not have seen it coming? Dancing in the rain!
"I don't want to waste this chance…"
Draco didn't want to waste it, either. But he couldn't let himself endanger Harry.
Letting go of the pillar, he slipped wetly to the ground. The coldness burned through his trousers, chilling his legs. His nose prickled, tears welling in his eyes. Dancing in the rain…
He could remember every precious moment of the kiss. The Boy Who Lived tasted of that strange muggle smoke, and American coffee. Had he changed so much since Hogwarts?
Now he thought about it, Draco couldn't remember if he had ever kissed Harry at Hogwarts. He curled his lip in disgust. Just used him, he thought, remembering. Just used him for sex, for a plaything.
But hadn't he- hadn't he loved Harry? Wasn't it out of love – Draco choked on a sob, shaking his head violently – that he did what he did for him, that final night?
Draco didn't know, hadn't known, why he had done what he did. Many said it was out of a underhanded Slytherin desire to take the golden boy's glory that he had cast those spells, stolen that night. Perhaps it was. He could remember the unfamiliar, catching feeling, like a snag at the back of his chest.
Why had he saved Harry's life?
He had never known he had it in him.
He wiped his nose across his hand, his face feeling rubbery and wet. He didn't know where he was going to go. Something caught on his chin; he felt with his numb fingers for the painful corner on his sleeve.
The cufflinks. The expensive cufflinks Severus had bought for him but days before the end of the war. He still had his dark side, Draco knew. Now, it was more solid than ever. The darkness was less transient and fleeting. He had to keep Harry away from it.
The boy wonder must have seen it! Draco put his head in his hands, hiding his treacherous eyes from the stormy world. He must have seen the evil in his eyes, it must have frightened him.
He shook with silent tears, the wetness running over his hands and dripping onto his knees like the rain fell out on the streets.
…
Author's Note:
What did you think? Keep reviewing, please. I love you for it.
Didn't have the time or energy for a super-huge chapter today, folks. Doubt I'll have time tomorrow, as I intend to go shopping. And then I have two Ethics essays to complete for Tuesday… Well, I'll see what I can do.
Fifespice – I can give you those 'hints' on Harry's muggle lifestyle right now, and for anyone else who I didn't make it clear to. Harry doesn't use magic because if he did, he would disturb the HP equivalent of 'the Force' and the magical paparazzi would know exactly where he was, and apparate straight to him.
Thanks again, you guys! And a special shout-out to Anja, who should be reading this. Hey, sweetie!
Jen
xox