[177] Sacrifice
Title: Sacrifice
Author: felixfvlicis
Pairing: 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 177: "Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing." - Rick Riordan, "The Lightning Theif"
Summary: In the midst of the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco contemplate if the future, their future, will exist.
Harry’s head snapped up from the pensieve, eyes wide, jaw set. He dug his nails into his palms, deep half-moons etched into calloused skin. He should have known. He was never meant to survive.
--
Draco slithered through abandoned corridors filled with rubble, his forehead beaded with sweat. His black suit clung to his lithe frame, the heavy bags underneath his eyes resembling an eclipsed moon, the darkness before the dawn. The Dark Mark kissed his skin raw, drops of blood hardened against his pale flesh streaked with dirt.
--
As Harry walked, the walls of Hogwarts vibrated with cries of the dead, their agonizing screams cracked his lenses -- jagged and divisive -- a thin line etched in the ash-caked glass. His before and after.
Harry stumbled through pieces of rubble, the gravity of loss like a heavy anchor -- chained to his beloved home, forevermore. In an effort to keep himself upright, he braced his palm against a shaky pillar. A string of prayers tumbled from his lips like a river, steady and soothing before a ripple cut through, the broken admission suspended in the air of war -- he only wanted to be Harry. Just Harry.
--
Draco’s outstretched hand nearly brushed against the fabric of Harry’s brown jacket, now tattered and torn. He longed to feel close to someone again, to be free of the chains that bound him. He wondered if Harry would suck the venom from his Dark Mark if he could if he would smile triumphantly as the murderous color drained from its body, a hollow shell, its outline a quiet reminder of consequence in the dark. His exhale fell silently against the rubble, a cloud of dust left in its wake.
--
Harry froze at the touch, though it was familiar somehow, like a fresh spring rain, the scent of lilies, like flying. Something he wanted in another life. Something he almost had, once.
“Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing, is it, Potter?”
Draco’s body convulsed as he spoke, his eyes filled with tears. He’d searched his whole life for a light in Harry’s eyes.
--
Harry smiled, sadly, as he brushed a strand of Draco’s hair from his darkened face.
Author: felixfvlicis
Pairing: 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 177: "Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing." - Rick Riordan, "The Lightning Theif"
Summary: In the midst of the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco contemplate if the future, their future, will exist.
Harry’s head snapped up from the pensieve, eyes wide, jaw set. He dug his nails into his palms, deep half-moons etched into calloused skin. He should have known. He was never meant to survive.
--
Draco slithered through abandoned corridors filled with rubble, his forehead beaded with sweat. His black suit clung to his lithe frame, the heavy bags underneath his eyes resembling an eclipsed moon, the darkness before the dawn. The Dark Mark kissed his skin raw, drops of blood hardened against his pale flesh streaked with dirt.
--
As Harry walked, the walls of Hogwarts vibrated with cries of the dead, their agonizing screams cracked his lenses -- jagged and divisive -- a thin line etched in the ash-caked glass. His before and after.
Harry stumbled through pieces of rubble, the gravity of loss like a heavy anchor -- chained to his beloved home, forevermore. In an effort to keep himself upright, he braced his palm against a shaky pillar. A string of prayers tumbled from his lips like a river, steady and soothing before a ripple cut through, the broken admission suspended in the air of war -- he only wanted to be Harry. Just Harry.
--
Draco’s outstretched hand nearly brushed against the fabric of Harry’s brown jacket, now tattered and torn. He longed to feel close to someone again, to be free of the chains that bound him. He wondered if Harry would suck the venom from his Dark Mark if he could if he would smile triumphantly as the murderous color drained from its body, a hollow shell, its outline a quiet reminder of consequence in the dark. His exhale fell silently against the rubble, a cloud of dust left in its wake.
--
Harry froze at the touch, though it was familiar somehow, like a fresh spring rain, the scent of lilies, like flying. Something he wanted in another life. Something he almost had, once.
“Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing, is it, Potter?”
Draco’s body convulsed as he spoke, his eyes filled with tears. He’d searched his whole life for a light in Harry’s eyes.
--
Harry smiled, sadly, as he brushed a strand of Draco’s hair from his darkened face.