Title: Gift / Curse
Author:
felixfvlicisPairing: Harry / Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: 365
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury / Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Unbeta'd. Written for
hogwarts365 prompt 175: Hollow.
Summary: Harry and Draco learn the meaning of gifts and curses.
Draco sat at the edge of the stream past Hagrid’s, a vast stretch of trees keeping him company, bare branches swaying slightly against the bite of winter wind. He sighed, rolling his wand between his fingers, his mind seduced by gray clouds suspended in the infinite atmosphere -- an endless waiting game.
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if --”
A twig snapping behind him severed the thought, his shoulder blades twitching slightly.
“. . . we floated along this river, skimming the surface day after day until there’s nothing left of us but our whispers -- a melancholic kiss?”
“Get out of my head, Harry.”
“Sorry. I just . . . couldn’t find you.”
Draco shifted, rustling the bed of leaves surrounding him before sinking a palm into the earth and tilting his chin up to Harry -- a silent invitation, anchoring them to their illusory youth.
Harry settled against him, pushing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy exhale, the manifestation of his anxieties, lining the walls of his room in the dark, thwarting him into a chasmic hiss of blackness, reunited with the accident that sustained the Dark Lord.
“I’m right here.”
Harry rolled his eyes as he felt Draco’s mouth morph into a smirk against his neck.
“Mmph, you know what I meant, Draco,” Harry murmured, leaning into the warmth of Draco’s mouth. The scent of his lemon soap pulled at Harry’s senses, mixed with a bit of warm, spicy earth - reminiscent of the two places Harry knew he’d always belonged, the two pieces of his soul split - the before and the after.
Draco slowly pulled away, admiring the beginnings of a tiny red patch on Harry’s pale skin. “I know, but it’s fun to tease you when you’re all worked up like this.”
“What’s really on your mind?”
Draco swallowed shades of black and white popping behind his eyes, a playful dance with murderous intentions.
“In sixth year, when you sliced me open, and I felt the ribbons of blood pool beneath me -- I relished the thought of being hollow. I was finally free.”
Harry’s hand curled around Draco’s thigh, the heavy pulse of life underneath his skin - a wretched gift, the sweetest curse.