♥ "Man in the Box" for nbaeker ♥
Title: Man in the Box
Author: elle_blessing
Rating: Teen
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Humor me ;)
Summary: For longer than he could remember, Draco had resisted
the insistent pull to be near her. Only with his gaze had he ever
indulged in her visage. Not anymore.
Man in the Box
Aftermath of the Battle for Hogwarts ...
... Harry slid the cloak up over himself and got to his feet.
Now he could move through the hall without interference. He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder. There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk ... (HPDH, pg. 745)
"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." - Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the Malfoys rose together as one.
All looked worse for wear following one of the darkest battles the wizarding world had ever seen, but the gravity of their person and the birthright of nobility was apparent despite. They would weather this storm with majesty for which only uncountable generations of breeding could account.
In a moment that was to see the Malfoys brought to their knees, cowering as the Dark Lord was truly put to history, all that was seen was the humanity of a family.
Lucius smoothed the flyaway blond hair away from Narcissa's face, hands gentle as he murmured to her and then pressed his lips to her brow. It was a moment of intimate reassurance that Draco had seen more times than should have been necessary these past years, but it was a moment in time that only he'd been allowed to witness prior.
As he shed his torn, burnt robes and rolled the sleeves of his oxford up his arms, he knew this moment between his parents both to be genuine feeling and to be a show for all present who would watch and judge their family. The emotion between his mother and father would read as veritably and undeniably true to any who cared to cast a look their way - quiet, thankful relief.
Their family would be vindicated, and the Malfoy line would endure.
All this was true, but as grey eyes scanned over the aftermath, his gaze went immediately to a crown of the truest red, that of scarlet blood.
Ginny Weasley wiped tears from her face and pulled away from her mother's embrace, shaking her head at whatever words had been spoken to her. She picked her way through the crowds of people towards the large double doors of the Great Hall, and slipped through with nary a person noticing her passage.
For longer than he could remember, Draco had resisted the insistent pull to be near her. Only with his gaze had he ever indulged in her visage.
Always his eyes had been drawn to her, his skin aching to touch her, but Draco had resisted. A Malfoy and a Weasley? It was unfathomable, even the color of her hair, blood red, mocking him and his gaze of which he'd never been able to pull away from her. Of all he could deny himself, but not the indulgence of drinking his fill of her with his subtle grey gaze.
Not anymore. Potter was nowhere to be seen, and even with the angry black scar of a tattoo burning with the destruction of it's first true image openly visible to all, Draco followed her.
*~*~*~*
Small hands clenched in his shirt, a gasp into his mouth, and Draco tangled his fingers into her hair, the ruby color staining his hands. And he drank her, the sighs and small sounds of which he knew intimately.
She was his, this witch of a women who'd ensnared him with her sadness, her joy, her bravery, her despair, her love.
"Draco," was the softest of exhales as he pulled her body flush with his.
*~*~*~*
Draco saw her slip through the front door even as he exited the Great Hall and hurried his step across the stone floor, steps seemingly loud in the vaulted hall.
He didn't know what he was doing, didn't know what he would say, only that the world had almost ended and he had never even spoken to her, touched her. He was not unaware that he was not a brave man, but as he slipped through the door into the darkness that precedes dawn, he felt the air thicken with destiny and fulfillment and only the fact that he wasn't sure he'd ever have a chance to see her again made him keep moving forward.
*~*~*~*
He smiled against the skin of her neck as she demanded it was his turn to remove clothing, little insistent hands pulling his shirt from his pants.
"Are you laughing at me?" she queried irritably, voice ragged from the kisses he'd used to steal her breath away, to bring his name to her lips.
"Never," he replied, still smiling, though his eyes darkened as he pressed a kiss to her neck before scraping his teeth against the soft skin, hands tracing over her back bare to his touch when she stilled her movements in his arms, nails digging where she'd found skin of her own to touch on a soft sigh.
*~*~*~*
"You've come."
She said it as if she'd been waiting, and Draco slowed to a stop on the lawns several steps behind her, realizations of so many things fitting together inside his mind in just a few heartbeats.
"You're waiting," he replied, statement and not question.
Ginny glanced over her shoulder just as the sun began to rise over the horizon, and in that moment she glowed truly as a phoenix born of the darkness, her hair a ruby halo. Her eyes were shining with tears, but the look in them was both that of truest devastation and purest hope.
*~*~*~*
Brown eyes dark with passion blinked open to meet his, and Draco bent to press a kiss to soft, pliant lips, savoring her taste a long moment before helping her to shed the shirt she'd been so insistent need leave his person.
He pulled away enough so that just their breath mixed, hot pants shared. Swirling grey met dark brown and time seemed to stand still.
Small hands were pressed to his skin, softness tracing up his chest slowly as if it was the first time she'd ever done so, though Ginny had mapped him as he had her more times than could be counted.
"I love you."
*~*~*~*
"Not just me," Ginny whispered. It was just exhale of her breath that carried the words, but Draco heard them as if the heat of it was fanning across his face, felt them even, though such should have been impossible. "Destiny, fate, time."
A look passed across her face - frustration at her own seeming lunacy with such a statement. "I'm not crazy," she asserted before he could reply as if she'd said such a thousand times before, if only to herself. "Haven't you felt it?"
Part of him wanted to say that no, of course he hadn't. Wanted to run from that which she had named. He was not a brave man.
The other part resonated with her words and wanted something very different.
It was the stronger part.
Hands unclenching from the fists that had found themselves at his side, Draco closed the short distance between them and did the most idiotically brilliant thing of his life.
A hand wound into her blood-red locks a bit too roughly even as the other cupped her face, and he tasted the breath he'd been sure had fanned across his cheek despite the distance.
A sigh slipped her lips and she opened for him as if it was something they'd done a million times.
And they had. Even as he drank her, tongues sliding together as she wound her hands in his shirt and brought her body flush with his, thousands of moments, lives past, swam behind closed lids.
She was his, and always had been.
*~*~*~*
"Past, present and future, I love you."
The words were his covenant, his acknowledgment. They had been. Two halves of one whole through time. His Romeo to her Juliet. Even now as he twined his hand into locks the color of that which was to be between them, blood feud, Draco felt the weight of destiny that sat with them, guided them, brought them together over and over.
He couldn't find fault with Fate's predilection; no other compared to his love.
Her breath caught, eyes a tad wide as he entered her, fluttering shut as he seated himself inside of her fully and a sigh slipped her lips. Yes.
*~*~*~*
Harry slipped from the castle, still invisible.
He felt it before he saw. Air so thick it was like being stuck in water that could be breathed and not felt. And the visual, the centerpiece to the magic thickening the air effectually took his own breath away and brought him to his knees as if he'd taken a blow to the gut.
Harry knew what destiny felt like. He was her pawn often enough, and he cursed that She had stolen that which he'd thought his.
Fate and Destiny, fickle creatures both, to find their pleasure in the lives of men.
And Draco drank of her, and she of him, and Time was satisfied.
For now.
Fin
Original Prompt:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: A
darker story, preferably set after the final battle/before epilogue
(it doesn't need to be compliant with the epilogue, either).
The tone/mood of the fic: dark
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic:
"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." - Napoleon
Bonaparte (1769-1821) As theme/element, or it can be quoted.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Any. Up to the author.
Canon or AU? Canon except Epilogue,
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): free rein this time,
folks!
Author: elle_blessing
Rating: Teen
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Humor me ;)
Summary: For longer than he could remember, Draco had resisted
the insistent pull to be near her. Only with his gaze had he ever
indulged in her visage. Not anymore.
Man in the Box
Aftermath of the Battle for Hogwarts ...
... Harry slid the cloak up over himself and got to his feet.
Now he could move through the hall without interference. He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder. There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk ... (HPDH, pg. 745)
"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." - Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the Malfoys rose together as one.
All looked worse for wear following one of the darkest battles the wizarding world had ever seen, but the gravity of their person and the birthright of nobility was apparent despite. They would weather this storm with majesty for which only uncountable generations of breeding could account.
In a moment that was to see the Malfoys brought to their knees, cowering as the Dark Lord was truly put to history, all that was seen was the humanity of a family.
Lucius smoothed the flyaway blond hair away from Narcissa's face, hands gentle as he murmured to her and then pressed his lips to her brow. It was a moment of intimate reassurance that Draco had seen more times than should have been necessary these past years, but it was a moment in time that only he'd been allowed to witness prior.
As he shed his torn, burnt robes and rolled the sleeves of his oxford up his arms, he knew this moment between his parents both to be genuine feeling and to be a show for all present who would watch and judge their family. The emotion between his mother and father would read as veritably and undeniably true to any who cared to cast a look their way - quiet, thankful relief.
Their family would be vindicated, and the Malfoy line would endure.
All this was true, but as grey eyes scanned over the aftermath, his gaze went immediately to a crown of the truest red, that of scarlet blood.
Ginny Weasley wiped tears from her face and pulled away from her mother's embrace, shaking her head at whatever words had been spoken to her. She picked her way through the crowds of people towards the large double doors of the Great Hall, and slipped through with nary a person noticing her passage.
For longer than he could remember, Draco had resisted the insistent pull to be near her. Only with his gaze had he ever indulged in her visage.
Always his eyes had been drawn to her, his skin aching to touch her, but Draco had resisted. A Malfoy and a Weasley? It was unfathomable, even the color of her hair, blood red, mocking him and his gaze of which he'd never been able to pull away from her. Of all he could deny himself, but not the indulgence of drinking his fill of her with his subtle grey gaze.
Not anymore. Potter was nowhere to be seen, and even with the angry black scar of a tattoo burning with the destruction of it's first true image openly visible to all, Draco followed her.
*~*~*~*
Small hands clenched in his shirt, a gasp into his mouth, and Draco tangled his fingers into her hair, the ruby color staining his hands. And he drank her, the sighs and small sounds of which he knew intimately.
She was his, this witch of a women who'd ensnared him with her sadness, her joy, her bravery, her despair, her love.
"Draco," was the softest of exhales as he pulled her body flush with his.
*~*~*~*
Draco saw her slip through the front door even as he exited the Great Hall and hurried his step across the stone floor, steps seemingly loud in the vaulted hall.
He didn't know what he was doing, didn't know what he would say, only that the world had almost ended and he had never even spoken to her, touched her. He was not unaware that he was not a brave man, but as he slipped through the door into the darkness that precedes dawn, he felt the air thicken with destiny and fulfillment and only the fact that he wasn't sure he'd ever have a chance to see her again made him keep moving forward.
*~*~*~*
He smiled against the skin of her neck as she demanded it was his turn to remove clothing, little insistent hands pulling his shirt from his pants.
"Are you laughing at me?" she queried irritably, voice ragged from the kisses he'd used to steal her breath away, to bring his name to her lips.
"Never," he replied, still smiling, though his eyes darkened as he pressed a kiss to her neck before scraping his teeth against the soft skin, hands tracing over her back bare to his touch when she stilled her movements in his arms, nails digging where she'd found skin of her own to touch on a soft sigh.
*~*~*~*
"You've come."
She said it as if she'd been waiting, and Draco slowed to a stop on the lawns several steps behind her, realizations of so many things fitting together inside his mind in just a few heartbeats.
"You're waiting," he replied, statement and not question.
Ginny glanced over her shoulder just as the sun began to rise over the horizon, and in that moment she glowed truly as a phoenix born of the darkness, her hair a ruby halo. Her eyes were shining with tears, but the look in them was both that of truest devastation and purest hope.
*~*~*~*
Brown eyes dark with passion blinked open to meet his, and Draco bent to press a kiss to soft, pliant lips, savoring her taste a long moment before helping her to shed the shirt she'd been so insistent need leave his person.
He pulled away enough so that just their breath mixed, hot pants shared. Swirling grey met dark brown and time seemed to stand still.
Small hands were pressed to his skin, softness tracing up his chest slowly as if it was the first time she'd ever done so, though Ginny had mapped him as he had her more times than could be counted.
"I love you."
*~*~*~*
"Not just me," Ginny whispered. It was just exhale of her breath that carried the words, but Draco heard them as if the heat of it was fanning across his face, felt them even, though such should have been impossible. "Destiny, fate, time."
A look passed across her face - frustration at her own seeming lunacy with such a statement. "I'm not crazy," she asserted before he could reply as if she'd said such a thousand times before, if only to herself. "Haven't you felt it?"
Part of him wanted to say that no, of course he hadn't. Wanted to run from that which she had named. He was not a brave man.
The other part resonated with her words and wanted something very different.
It was the stronger part.
Hands unclenching from the fists that had found themselves at his side, Draco closed the short distance between them and did the most idiotically brilliant thing of his life.
A hand wound into her blood-red locks a bit too roughly even as the other cupped her face, and he tasted the breath he'd been sure had fanned across his cheek despite the distance.
A sigh slipped her lips and she opened for him as if it was something they'd done a million times.
And they had. Even as he drank her, tongues sliding together as she wound her hands in his shirt and brought her body flush with his, thousands of moments, lives past, swam behind closed lids.
She was his, and always had been.
*~*~*~*
"Past, present and future, I love you."
The words were his covenant, his acknowledgment. They had been. Two halves of one whole through time. His Romeo to her Juliet. Even now as he twined his hand into locks the color of that which was to be between them, blood feud, Draco felt the weight of destiny that sat with them, guided them, brought them together over and over.
He couldn't find fault with Fate's predilection; no other compared to his love.
Her breath caught, eyes a tad wide as he entered her, fluttering shut as he seated himself inside of her fully and a sigh slipped her lips. Yes.
*~*~*~*
Harry slipped from the castle, still invisible.
He felt it before he saw. Air so thick it was like being stuck in water that could be breathed and not felt. And the visual, the centerpiece to the magic thickening the air effectually took his own breath away and brought him to his knees as if he'd taken a blow to the gut.
Harry knew what destiny felt like. He was her pawn often enough, and he cursed that She had stolen that which he'd thought his.
Fate and Destiny, fickle creatures both, to find their pleasure in the lives of men.
And Draco drank of her, and she of him, and Time was satisfied.
For now.
Fin
Original Prompt:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: A
darker story, preferably set after the final battle/before epilogue
(it doesn't need to be compliant with the epilogue, either).
The tone/mood of the fic: dark
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic:
"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." - Napoleon
Bonaparte (1769-1821) As theme/element, or it can be quoted.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Any. Up to the author.
Canon or AU? Canon except Epilogue,
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): free rein this time,
folks!