As the Vision Fades Prologue [Harry/Draco]
As the Vision Fades Prologue
Author: iP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Genre: Hmmm.
Rating: PG
Summary: Prologue to my long fic.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling’s. Yada, yada, yada. BTW J.K. reads HD slash fics. Heh.
A.N.: Finally, after eight months, I could post this.
*****
Peace. Tranquility. Repose.
I have never felt any of those before. Or maybe I did. For only a fleeting moment. But a week passing without trouble? I doubt it ever happened.
My life has always been on the verge of everything. Breaking down, jumping off a cliff, name it, I got it. I’ve used all the swear words located on this planet. I wonder if I could handle anything anymore.
Nobody from my circle of friends ever deciphered my consecutive gloomy moods, my feelings of rejection, no one ever bothered. Ginny? The heck she’s always looking so much cutesy all the time because of our status. Sometimes I regret the decisions I made.
She was never really my liking. Ron’ll kill me for that. But what could I do? It’s absolutely an honest-to-goodness statement. Love came only for a fleeting moment, and within the snap of a finger, gone. That’s why I dared to ask her to break up. The girl broke into a stupor and hastily said no. I shouldn’t have asked. Bet my broom she only wanted my fame and fortune. People who get the combo are lucky. One day, I realized one of my big mistakes: I got trapped in a desperate and nearly hopeless situation, me and Ginny being a couple.
*****
I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.
A true, noble, and a good-hearted wizard was killed in front of my very eyes. Actually, I was supposed to kill the moron. But some friggin’ bastard stole my mission. I know I’ll regret it. Conscience killed me day and night. Nobody could relieve me of my suffering.
On the border of pouring out my sadness, my aches, troubles, I confided them to a no-body. At least I was relieved. For a fleeting moment. Only.
It was blackmail.
Forced, with no resolute actions. Kill him. I could still hear the coldness in his voice, I tried to plead, nonverbally, but I knew that it wouldn’t work. Just trying. The soul in that sinister creature has no hope. It’s like talking to a blank wall.
Somehow, someday, I’ll be freed. Free as the wind.
Perhaps.
*****
I think I’m going crazy.
For heaven’s sake, I have no idea how my friends even tried to tell me that I was becoming more and more… well, different. They told me I was becoming obsessed. And to a guy no less.
Malfoy.
It was intuition; my sodding saving-a-people-thing was taking to effect again. The nagging feeling I had-and guessed-that Malfoy was a Death Eater. Somehow, I knew in the end, that he would turn out like that.
But still.
By all that’s holy-I couldn’t help but feel sorry when I saw Malfoy crying to Myrtle, blame my traits for that. The misty eyes which were supposed to show coldness, instead they showed-revealed-sadness. He was on the border of hopelessness, I could tell. I really wanted to comfort him, tell him that we’re safe because Dumbledore’s here, everything’s alright, there’s no need to worry, I will help you.
Instead, the genuine self in Draco Malfoy changed and attempted to curse me. Heck, that was the Cruciatus-not easily done, only if willed by the wizard who cast the curse.
No.
I didn’t feel the immense hatred he always has for me, and if he managed to complete the incarnation, it would only last t me for a minute. Or maybe just a second. Despair was ruling him, no trace of joy or happiness. His silver eyes shadowed his true feelings.
The hardest thing that I have done is that I screamed bloody murder at him, shouting one spell that was not tested by me before. A slash formed on his chest. Deep red blood splashed forth on the tiles and the wall. Blood was spurting all over-his blood. The color on his skin became pale. Pale…paler…
Holy.
That’s when I realized that I was the one who did that. Bloody hell, that’s not what I meant to do. I just wanted to stop him from muttering the incantation. But there’s no point in regretting, is there? So I ran to him like a worried friend, anxiously asking if there’s something I could do. Hell, that was only my mind that did the talking. I was utterly dumbfounded by the sheer realization that dawned on me. Hastily, I ran over to him and gingerly scooped his weak body. He’s dying! His piercing eyes were screaming it in front of my face. Caringly, I removed the tresses that covered his soul, his eyes which showed everything, but revealed nothing.
*****
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Fatherfuck was the one supposed to blame for all of this scary shit. But there’s no point in crying over spilled milk, right? I’ve got to find a way to escape. Mother is going crazy, worried sick because her only son is going to fight a war, not even knowing which side will win.
There’s no one to turn to; all my hopes were shattered, when I saw the one who could help me die. My last hope…gone.
Wait.
*****
Here we go again. I have to save all people, wizarding and Muggle alike, for the future. I don’t know why I’m trapped in this situation, but I guess I can do nothing about it.
The worst is yet to come.
Sirius died, next Dumbledore, and before the both of them, my parents. Add all the people who were atrociously slain by Voldemort and his cronies. Worse, I’ve found out, at a great cost, that Snape, whom Dumbledore welcomed with open arms and trusted wholeheartedly by him, was a big fucking liar and a fucking great coward.
The horcruxes… I’ve nearly finished all of them. The cup… Hufflepuff’s cup… destroyed it a month before. The locket… I’m sure Regulus annihilated it before Voldemort could get it from him. The diary, the ring… Something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s… The snake… foolish snake. Stupid serpent for pissing Snape. Stupid Snape for killing it. And of course, Voldemort’s body.
June is coming to an end. I’ve stopped schooling at Hogwarts because I need to destroy all those Horcruxes. Thankfully, I’ve only suffered a deep cut on my arm and a weak body, to which Madame Pomfrey would easily heal me. Then I’d gear up for the next mission.
I’m nearly seventeen now, the powers in the Dursley house is gone. A fully-fledged wizard, me. Off to fight one of the most, if not the best, powerful Dark Wizard of all time.
Dumbledore informed me in his painting that Voldemort is going to select his goons at his father’s tomb, in the graveyard, just like when he became human again. He said it was going to happen on the last week of July. Perhaps on my birthday.
Good luck, Harry Potter.
*****
Harry Potter.
Yes, he is the one, he could help me, I’m sure of it, he’s my last hope.
But will he help me?
Of course he will.
He loathed you. And you loathed him too.
But…
I’m going to beg forgiveness. I’m sure he’d understand. He is Dumbledore’s man through and through, I’ve heard it quite a lot. And hopefully, he saw the real me when I cried. I’m sure he did.
Potter.
*****
End of Prologue.
Author: iP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Genre: Hmmm.
Rating: PG
Summary: Prologue to my long fic.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling’s. Yada, yada, yada. BTW J.K. reads HD slash fics. Heh.
A.N.: Finally, after eight months, I could post this.
*****
Peace. Tranquility. Repose.
I have never felt any of those before. Or maybe I did. For only a fleeting moment. But a week passing without trouble? I doubt it ever happened.
My life has always been on the verge of everything. Breaking down, jumping off a cliff, name it, I got it. I’ve used all the swear words located on this planet. I wonder if I could handle anything anymore.
Nobody from my circle of friends ever deciphered my consecutive gloomy moods, my feelings of rejection, no one ever bothered. Ginny? The heck she’s always looking so much cutesy all the time because of our status. Sometimes I regret the decisions I made.
She was never really my liking. Ron’ll kill me for that. But what could I do? It’s absolutely an honest-to-goodness statement. Love came only for a fleeting moment, and within the snap of a finger, gone. That’s why I dared to ask her to break up. The girl broke into a stupor and hastily said no. I shouldn’t have asked. Bet my broom she only wanted my fame and fortune. People who get the combo are lucky. One day, I realized one of my big mistakes: I got trapped in a desperate and nearly hopeless situation, me and Ginny being a couple.
*****
I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.
A true, noble, and a good-hearted wizard was killed in front of my very eyes. Actually, I was supposed to kill the moron. But some friggin’ bastard stole my mission. I know I’ll regret it. Conscience killed me day and night. Nobody could relieve me of my suffering.
On the border of pouring out my sadness, my aches, troubles, I confided them to a no-body. At least I was relieved. For a fleeting moment. Only.
It was blackmail.
Forced, with no resolute actions. Kill him. I could still hear the coldness in his voice, I tried to plead, nonverbally, but I knew that it wouldn’t work. Just trying. The soul in that sinister creature has no hope. It’s like talking to a blank wall.
Somehow, someday, I’ll be freed. Free as the wind.
Perhaps.
*****
I think I’m going crazy.
For heaven’s sake, I have no idea how my friends even tried to tell me that I was becoming more and more… well, different. They told me I was becoming obsessed. And to a guy no less.
Malfoy.
It was intuition; my sodding saving-a-people-thing was taking to effect again. The nagging feeling I had-and guessed-that Malfoy was a Death Eater. Somehow, I knew in the end, that he would turn out like that.
But still.
By all that’s holy-I couldn’t help but feel sorry when I saw Malfoy crying to Myrtle, blame my traits for that. The misty eyes which were supposed to show coldness, instead they showed-revealed-sadness. He was on the border of hopelessness, I could tell. I really wanted to comfort him, tell him that we’re safe because Dumbledore’s here, everything’s alright, there’s no need to worry, I will help you.
Instead, the genuine self in Draco Malfoy changed and attempted to curse me. Heck, that was the Cruciatus-not easily done, only if willed by the wizard who cast the curse.
No.
I didn’t feel the immense hatred he always has for me, and if he managed to complete the incarnation, it would only last t me for a minute. Or maybe just a second. Despair was ruling him, no trace of joy or happiness. His silver eyes shadowed his true feelings.
The hardest thing that I have done is that I screamed bloody murder at him, shouting one spell that was not tested by me before. A slash formed on his chest. Deep red blood splashed forth on the tiles and the wall. Blood was spurting all over-his blood. The color on his skin became pale. Pale…paler…
Holy.
That’s when I realized that I was the one who did that. Bloody hell, that’s not what I meant to do. I just wanted to stop him from muttering the incantation. But there’s no point in regretting, is there? So I ran to him like a worried friend, anxiously asking if there’s something I could do. Hell, that was only my mind that did the talking. I was utterly dumbfounded by the sheer realization that dawned on me. Hastily, I ran over to him and gingerly scooped his weak body. He’s dying! His piercing eyes were screaming it in front of my face. Caringly, I removed the tresses that covered his soul, his eyes which showed everything, but revealed nothing.
*****
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Fatherfuck was the one supposed to blame for all of this scary shit. But there’s no point in crying over spilled milk, right? I’ve got to find a way to escape. Mother is going crazy, worried sick because her only son is going to fight a war, not even knowing which side will win.
There’s no one to turn to; all my hopes were shattered, when I saw the one who could help me die. My last hope…gone.
Wait.
*****
Here we go again. I have to save all people, wizarding and Muggle alike, for the future. I don’t know why I’m trapped in this situation, but I guess I can do nothing about it.
The worst is yet to come.
Sirius died, next Dumbledore, and before the both of them, my parents. Add all the people who were atrociously slain by Voldemort and his cronies. Worse, I’ve found out, at a great cost, that Snape, whom Dumbledore welcomed with open arms and trusted wholeheartedly by him, was a big fucking liar and a fucking great coward.
The horcruxes… I’ve nearly finished all of them. The cup… Hufflepuff’s cup… destroyed it a month before. The locket… I’m sure Regulus annihilated it before Voldemort could get it from him. The diary, the ring… Something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s… The snake… foolish snake. Stupid serpent for pissing Snape. Stupid Snape for killing it. And of course, Voldemort’s body.
June is coming to an end. I’ve stopped schooling at Hogwarts because I need to destroy all those Horcruxes. Thankfully, I’ve only suffered a deep cut on my arm and a weak body, to which Madame Pomfrey would easily heal me. Then I’d gear up for the next mission.
I’m nearly seventeen now, the powers in the Dursley house is gone. A fully-fledged wizard, me. Off to fight one of the most, if not the best, powerful Dark Wizard of all time.
Dumbledore informed me in his painting that Voldemort is going to select his goons at his father’s tomb, in the graveyard, just like when he became human again. He said it was going to happen on the last week of July. Perhaps on my birthday.
Good luck, Harry Potter.
*****
Harry Potter.
Yes, he is the one, he could help me, I’m sure of it, he’s my last hope.
But will he help me?
Of course he will.
He loathed you. And you loathed him too.
But…
I’m going to beg forgiveness. I’m sure he’d understand. He is Dumbledore’s man through and through, I’ve heard it quite a lot. And hopefully, he saw the real me when I cried. I’m sure he did.
Potter.
*****
End of Prologue.