Disclaimer: I don't own them, J.K Rowling do.
Name: Autumn
Author: Draconixis
Paring: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13, I think
Genere: Angst
Warning: None
Summary: Draco hates autumn.
Now, it only seems pathetic.
Dying to be replaced my something new. Now, why doesn't that bring a smile to my face anymore?
Autumn
I hate autumn.
I hate all those colourful leaves, perched on the trees. I hate the ones lying motionless on the ground and I despise the ones rustling in the wind, tainting the dusky sky.
There are so many colours in the tree tops, every leaf creating a horrible picture of total disorder.
I can't stand the chilly weather. I can't stand the biting wind which carries the incoming winter or the low temperature that penetrates me to my core.
And the people. Merlin, how I hate the people. They don't understand, never have, and I blame them. Yes, I know that judging everyone merely from my thoughts is wrong. Prejudices, it's called. But I don't care. Why should I? Nobody else does, so it's only fare.
The atmosphere is at the bottom, the gloom lying like a thick fog everywhere, and people dress there after. Still they keep on smiling in their brown, black, white, yellow, or beige clothes, losing themselves in the crowds, not realizing that they're creating a splitting image of a tree with its dying leaves.
Blissfully unaware.
Why can't I be?
I so wish to be one of them, one of the millions in the tree top. But I'm not. No, I'm the leaf lying on the ground, the one which the tree drained first, the one which the people step on, leaving their muddy trails all over me, only to be washed away with the falling rain and finally ending up in the gutter. And the cycle starts over.
I hate autumn.
But… I don't. Or at least, I didn't.
I loved autumn at the Malfoy manor, because despite what everyone said it was truly beautiful. I practically lived in the gardens. Just the thought of an old plant dying and being replaced by something even more radiant made my days, back then.
Now, it only seems pathetic.
Dying to be replaced my something new. Now, why doesn't that bring a smile to my face anymore?
It's not that I hate autumn itself, only what it brings with its gusts of wind.
Memories.
'Do not disobey me, son!'
I can't let them go.
'If you turn your back towards the Dark Lord, I will kill you.'
And… I don't know why.
My father standing above me, wand raised, smirk firmly in place and all I could see was the brown, yellow and red leaves blowing in the wind as pain wracked my body.
'Leave him be! Please! I beg you, he's your son!'
I… please…
'Draco, run! I'll distract them!'
'I won't leave you!'
'Just get away –'
And her eyes lost their light, the same light that took a part of mine with it.
Mum…
I don't know what to do with myself anymore.
'Love?'
'I'm not in the mood, just go to sleep Draco.'
Am I doing something wrong? I tried so hard for you, I owned that to you.
You brought life into me again, by just being you.
You held me tight those nights when the grief became overwhelming. You loved me as the leaves were falling.
'Well, I was thinking that we could… maybe we could –'
'Well don't, I have other plans for tonight.'
And still… I wasn't enough… I've never been enough, just there to fill the space when someone took a little pity for me.
But I hoped for it so desperately.
'I don't think this is going to work out.'
Harry…
'Wha –… What d-do you mean?'
'We're over, finish, going separate ways. It's for the best, you know it is Draco. Please.'
'But… I love you…'
'Oh please, you'll find something else to love soon enough.'
The door closed behind you, leaving your last words ringing in my ears. I didn't even notice the dry leaves that had slipped inside or the wet tear that slowly made its way down my cheek.
I hate autumn.
Pansy always wondered why I stopped jumping in the leaf piles.
The End
