In a meadow.
A meadow. That's where it all began.
You were there; so was I.
I was scared- You were lonely.
It was one night, a distant memory.
Can we forget?
Harry stared outside his dormitory window, watching as the rain fell against the glass. His vision was obscured by the droplets of water that scattered upon the surface of the window, fogging the view. Little light escaped into the room and so a candle had been lit, flickering in the dim room.
Finally pulling himself off the chair he had collapsed in hours ago, the Gryffindor walked to his trunk slowly, opening it with a soft click. Collecting a fresh new robe and a pair of Dudley's foul socks, he began to change, his eyes closed. He didn't want to see the marks left on his skin and yet, he still wouldn't conceal them or magic them away.
Running a hand through his hair, he placed his round frames on his nose and walked steadily to the door, a wistful look upon his face. With one last longing look at the rain, he opened the door and disappeared behind it.
Can we forget?
Will one night- one memory-
Haunt us forever?
A shiver ran up Draco's back as he stared at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Rain fell from the sky, never hitting the students, but even the warm glow of the candles and torches could not warm the blonde's chilled bones.
Shaken from his reverie, he stared at the empty seat ahead of him. The Gryffindor had skipped classes and meals for the past seven days; it wasn't hard to see everyone was beginning to worry. Gossip floated around the dining area and Draco sighed, wanting nothing more than to relive that night.
Just as he was beginning to forget, laughter with his friends releasing his hold on the memory, the Great Hall doors open and he appeared between them, his robes neatly ironed and his face defiant. Draco looked at him, stunned, yet with such regret- such longing.
It all happened in a meadow,
You were lost; I was found.
I needed to weep- You offered a shoulder
Can we remember?
The rain splattered across Harry's trainers and he fixed his eyes on the road ahead of him. The forest's trees surrounded his small figure, but he continued to trudge on, fearful yet with purpose. Vines crawled against his thighs, legs and feet, tightening their hold and wrapping around his limbs. For a moment he was trapped, lithe plants holding him to the ground and he cast a soft incendio, watching the morbid shrubbery rupture and retreat.
Night cast shadows upon the forest's inhabitants, upon Harry's eyes. He squinted, raising his head to stare at the serene moonlight streaking through the leafless trees shaking in the wind. The rain continued to pour, covering his glasses before sliding off and landing against his cheek. He shivered, wrapping his cloak securely around him, before continuing to walk deeper into the forest, ignoring the shrill cries and echoes that reached his ears.
A clearing up ahead and Harry finally slowed down his pace, his eyes closing and his small form shuddering against the wind. His hair was drenched, uneven shards landing on the tips of his ears, his fringe soaked and soft against his forehead. His cheeks, tainted red from the fierce winds, burned as a new wetness landed on them— hot and trickling slowly unlike the biting cold of the harsh, quickly-falling rain.
The forest- ugly, dark and repulsive- had many secrets and many joys. Centaurs and unicorns trotted across the murky ground, shining a light of hope on the shadowed eyes of those creatures who believed in nothing but sinister thoughts. The very core of the forest, Harry knew, was a vast meadow that was anything but dark and gruesome. He had come to the conclusion that everything ugly, dark and repulsive had, in its very core, something free, wild and beautiful- something that never had a chance to shine and so was hidden, despised and forgotten.
The rain continued to pour.
His wand held out in front of him, he cast a soft lumos, the shards of light blurring his vision, yet expanding his sight. He walked into the supple meadow, moist grass clinging to his robes and shoes and the streaks of light emitting from his wand exposing the flowers dotted across the field. A sigh escaped his lips and he continued walking, stumbling slightly over a log.
However, a sight so purely illuminated that it didn't even require the light from his wand to reach in order for Harry to catch it, distracted him. He turned his body to the side, the wind growing more ferocious and the rain numbing his flesh. White-blonde hair graced vision and he blinked slowly, surprise flittering across his face. He stood still for a moment, time seemingly forgotten, and stared… stared at the pale moonlight reflecting off the fair features of Draco Malfoy, at the sparkle of light that danced over his face each time his eyes were caught by the impending light.
The rain continued to pour.
Finally, letting his hand fall back to his sides, Harry walked over to the Slytherin, the spilling rain concealing the sound of his harsh footsteps. He stared at the back of his head for what seemed like forever before clenching his teeth and kicking the Slytherin sharply in the side.
A groan of pain surfaced above the rain's howls.
Angered green met shocked grey and for a moment, neither dared to move- to blink.
Finally a lunge so powerful that it knocked both to the ground with its force, both releasing moans of pain as their knotted muscles, numb flesh and tangled limbs hit the rigid ground.
Harry stopped flailing underneath the blonde and instead dropped his head to the floor, his eyes closing. "The only place I feel I can retreat to, and you take it from me." The rage in his voice is clouded by resignation.
Surprise lined Draco's voice as his sopping robes hung below him, heavy with water, dripping on Harry's already wet form. He released his hold on the Gryffindor, still straddling his hips, though somewhat absentmindedly. He looked down at Harry with wonder.
"Take it as repayment of everything you've ever taken from me."
Harry's eyes met those of calm grey and he scowled, pulling himself up, but finding he couldn't as Draco still leaned against his hips, straddled him. "And what, Malfoy, have I ever taken from you."
An eerie smile curved Draco's lips and leaned his face forward, a maniac glint in his eye. "Everything, you've taken it all." He licked his lips, his nails digging into the mud on either side of Harry's head. "But most of all, you've taken my sanity."
Harry flinched as the face came nearer still, and suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. The menacing shine in those grey eyes did little to put his suspicious and fears at bay.
"I live only to haunt you, hate you… despise you. You've taken my life; it's now always centered around you. You've taken my father with his obsession of you. You've taken away my every chance of success and greatness. I am but a tool, Potter, a tool of Voldemort's- of my fathers- to crawl under your skin and spread a disease of hatred through your veins. That is my only goal in life; that is my purpose. You've taken it all." He repeated, the smile growing wider.
Harry shifted uncomfortably, his hands landing on the Slytherin's shoulders as he pushed the figure away. It surprised him when there was no resistance, and the body moved away from his own, the glint having disappeared and replace with a look of thought and defeat.
"I accept my purpose, my fate. In fact, I now embrace it as it is the only thing that my life holds. You're my life, my obsession, my reason." He smiled; his hips still draped over Harry's, though his face a safe distance away.
Harry let out a breath of relief when Draco pulled himself off the Gryffindor's frame, settling on the muddy grass beside them. Sitting up, the raven-haired boy glanced at Draco briefly, sitting across from him and gripping his wand tightly.
"It can change—"
"It can't."
Silence enveloped them, and the rain continued to pour.
"Your life belongs to you, not Voldemort… not your father."
A harsh laugh rang out into the air surrounding them, the rain seemed to falter.
"You're right. It belongs to you."
"It can change." Harry said, more determinedly.
"What if…" Draco looked up and stared into those eyes that owned him. The hatred that bound them enslaved him. His purpose in life, everything belonged to this one lonesome figure.
You were lonely; I was scared
"What if I want to belong to you?"
A savior in the distance- a calling. A knight wrapped dubiously in shining armor, a hope kindled deep within a tattered soul. Draco paused, his knees sinking into the mud as he moved closer.
"Not for my father, not for Voldemort… not for hate. For me?"
Breath caught in their throats, Draco's confession echoing endlessly in both their ears. The pounding of drums could not compare to the pounding of their aching hearts as each erratic beat hammered against their chest.
A pale hand outstretched, light fingers held out for reassurance.
In a meadow,
No one to see the look in your eyes
Your fingers against my lips
Harry's warm breath trailed across the silken fingers, his eyes closing.
I belong to you; to your hatred
To your love
The fingers traveled down his chin, landing on the warmth of Harry's neck. Caressing the skin fondly, Draco swallowed, his hand moving down further yet and his fingers placing themselves on a clasped button.
Then the button was undone.
"I'm afraid."
Draco paused, his fingers stopping on the fourth button, Harry's chest slowly becoming exposed. They were inches apart, their knees touching.
"Of what is expected of me." Harry's voice was soft, laden with fear and remorse. Draco's fingers slid back up the Gryffindor's torso and linked around firm shoulders, his blonde head falling in the crook of Harry's neck.
"I'm afraid too." Draco lifted his head, pressing his cheek against Harry's.
"Of?"
Draco smiled, turning his head, their lips nearly touching. "Of what is expected of me." He let his hands travel across Harry's back, eliciting a shiver from the damp figure. His pale fingers reached the base of the brunet's neck, entangling in luscious, wet hair. "I'm afraid of who I shall become."
Submitting to the warm embrace, Harry leant his forehead against Draco's. "You don't have to be your father."
Draco closed his eyes, pressing his body closer to the one that possessed him. Harry let his hands place themselves on Draco's waist before sliding up to his sides. Offering a weak smile, the Slytherin opened his eyes and nuzzled against Harry's dripping face. "We'll see," he whispered, his eyes finding Harry's.
In a meadow,
We shared our first kiss,
In a meadow,
Did we share our last?
Harry looked back at the Slytherin table, and caught the regretful gaze of the blonde. Time slowed as their eyes bore into one another's, the bustle of student's conversations and meaningless laughter that reached their ears only a distant blur in the back of their heads.
A pause.
Then, Draco smiled reassuringly, picking up his fork once more and looking back at his meal. Harry bit his lip, looking down at his lap, feeling a grin threatening to capture his face.
In a meadow,
We met again; loved again