(no subject)
So, I've written a teaser for my upcoming fic, "The Sky was Orange". Still no summary or warnings yet, though I know all of them, but here's your teaser. It IS a Harry/Draco fic.
Gabrielle Delacour slipped into the kitchen just in time to see James throw his tiny hands up in the air and give a wild giggle. “I did it, Papa, I did it!” the boy yelled, and Gabrielle saw Harry flinch at the loud sound of the child’s voice in such a confined area. The old, ramshackle house they used for the headquarters was hardly suited for sound absorption, but she knew it was not because of the decibel of the child’s yell, but the happiness in it that caused the boy’s father to draw back. Happiness had no place in a world with an orange sky. Ginny Weasley hurried over and took her son from Harry, saying something about bath time, and Harry looked relieved. Gabrielle seized her chance.
“’Arry,” she whispered, sitting down beside him at the table and seeing something odd in his eyes. He seemed uninterested in the conversations of the other witches and wizards at the table, so she felt as though she could sufficiently hold his attention. “’Arry, I went to ze doctor today. Ze baby weel be a boy, and I wondered if I may name ‘im?” It was a stupid request, and she knew that the moment the question had slipped from her lips. None of the other mothers got to name their children-Ginny had not given protest against Lily and James for the twins, but Angelina Johnson thought Cherish was ridiculous and Parvati Patil had never been a big fan of Ron Weasley, so naming her only son after him was not something she had been pleased about-and she supposed that she could be no different. She never knew Sirius Black herself, but she did know that he had been a murderer, and the fact that Harry had been so insistent upon the name was highly disturbing to her.
Harry’s eyes snapped up to her, meeting her gaze and narrowing with his scowl. “The baby’s name is Sirius, Gabrielle. I fucking told you this already; the baby’s name is going to be Sirius!” His tone was harsh, harsher than he would have liked, and it attracted the attention of several other Blue Sky members. He took a calming breath and diverted his eyes to the mouldy carpet. “We talked about it, Gabrielle. We agreed that Sirius would be appropriate…Look, I know you’ve been asking questions to Hermione and Ginny, and you really just need to back off. You knew why I slept with you, and believe me, I wouldn’t still be doing it if you would stick around otherwise. When you’ve had the baby, that’s it; we’re done. Everyone else accepts it, and you knew what you were getting into.” It was the cold, hard truth, and it had everyone art the table staring silently at the pair.
Gabrielle drew herself up to her full height, eyes narrowed fiercely. She looked as though she might have sprouted wings and a beak at any moment, and had Harry not known that she was incapable of transformation as her ancestors were, he would have thought that change was imminent. “Well!” she huffed, eyes flashing, and she slammed her fist down on the table. A great amount of dust unseated itself from the underside upon impact, and it hit the floor with a clatter. “I have seen a picture of zat Sirius Black, and he looks like you! Veela blood runs deep, ‘Arry, and he will be as blonde as ‘is muzzer, and following your trend of naming your children after those you have loved and lost, I thought you might want to call ‘im Draco!”
The silence was deafening after her statement, and in the pause, Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth. “You idiot,” she moaned softly, and that statement seemed to jerk Harry out of his stupefied trance.
“Get. Out. GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT, YOU FUCKING SLUT, AND STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” Harry was on his feet, rage pouring through him, and there were tears pouring down his face that he never remembered welling up in his eyes. Hermione was on her feet as well, hurrying forward to grab Gabrielle before Harry hit her, as it was inevitable that he would do. Gabrielle was screaming and sobbing, and Hermione pushed her into Ginny’s hands before she took the outraged and devastated Harry from the room and outside the front door.
“Harry, for God’s sake,” she whispered as she closed the door. Harry dropped to a sitting position on the stoop and stared at the crabgrass overflowing onto the sidewalk. It was the only grass that had survived the nuclear fallout, and it was taking over everything. He leaned down to pluck a tough section, bringing it up to his eyes and examining it. Hermione sat down with him. “Harry, I’m sorry…She doesn’t understand about you and Draco…”
“You told her, didn’t you?” Harry’s voice was soft, defeated, and he buried his face in the crook of his own elbow. His knuckles were white on his own sleeves, and he took a moment to lose himself in memory of he and Draco, twenty-three years old, walking down a deserted London street at one in the morning. They were both more than a little drunk, and Draco was laughing when he reached over to take one of Harry’s hands. They paused on a bridge, and Draco drew close in the night air, so close that Harry reached out and wrapped his arms around his very best friend and tucked his face in against his neck. ‘God, Potter, I’m so fucking smashed, that’s making me horny. Go on, then. Kiss me there, why don’t you?’ Harry had been just drunk enough to do it, and Draco had laughed and laughed. ‘That’s not kissing! You’re tickling me!’ Harry conceded and pulled his face back, looking into Draco’s eyes. He should have kissed him right then and there, but he did not.
“We had to, Harry…She just had no idea. I hope you didn’t lead everyone else on like that,” Hermione whispered, and Harry shook his head. Harry never did anything but shake his head any more. “Harry…stop what you’re doing. Stop regretting things; you can’t do anything about them now.”
Harry lifted his face to the orange sky and took a deep breath of air stale with radiation. “I should have told him how I was doing…”
Gabrielle Delacour slipped into the kitchen just in time to see James throw his tiny hands up in the air and give a wild giggle. “I did it, Papa, I did it!” the boy yelled, and Gabrielle saw Harry flinch at the loud sound of the child’s voice in such a confined area. The old, ramshackle house they used for the headquarters was hardly suited for sound absorption, but she knew it was not because of the decibel of the child’s yell, but the happiness in it that caused the boy’s father to draw back. Happiness had no place in a world with an orange sky. Ginny Weasley hurried over and took her son from Harry, saying something about bath time, and Harry looked relieved. Gabrielle seized her chance.
“’Arry,” she whispered, sitting down beside him at the table and seeing something odd in his eyes. He seemed uninterested in the conversations of the other witches and wizards at the table, so she felt as though she could sufficiently hold his attention. “’Arry, I went to ze doctor today. Ze baby weel be a boy, and I wondered if I may name ‘im?” It was a stupid request, and she knew that the moment the question had slipped from her lips. None of the other mothers got to name their children-Ginny had not given protest against Lily and James for the twins, but Angelina Johnson thought Cherish was ridiculous and Parvati Patil had never been a big fan of Ron Weasley, so naming her only son after him was not something she had been pleased about-and she supposed that she could be no different. She never knew Sirius Black herself, but she did know that he had been a murderer, and the fact that Harry had been so insistent upon the name was highly disturbing to her.
Harry’s eyes snapped up to her, meeting her gaze and narrowing with his scowl. “The baby’s name is Sirius, Gabrielle. I fucking told you this already; the baby’s name is going to be Sirius!” His tone was harsh, harsher than he would have liked, and it attracted the attention of several other Blue Sky members. He took a calming breath and diverted his eyes to the mouldy carpet. “We talked about it, Gabrielle. We agreed that Sirius would be appropriate…Look, I know you’ve been asking questions to Hermione and Ginny, and you really just need to back off. You knew why I slept with you, and believe me, I wouldn’t still be doing it if you would stick around otherwise. When you’ve had the baby, that’s it; we’re done. Everyone else accepts it, and you knew what you were getting into.” It was the cold, hard truth, and it had everyone art the table staring silently at the pair.
Gabrielle drew herself up to her full height, eyes narrowed fiercely. She looked as though she might have sprouted wings and a beak at any moment, and had Harry not known that she was incapable of transformation as her ancestors were, he would have thought that change was imminent. “Well!” she huffed, eyes flashing, and she slammed her fist down on the table. A great amount of dust unseated itself from the underside upon impact, and it hit the floor with a clatter. “I have seen a picture of zat Sirius Black, and he looks like you! Veela blood runs deep, ‘Arry, and he will be as blonde as ‘is muzzer, and following your trend of naming your children after those you have loved and lost, I thought you might want to call ‘im Draco!”
The silence was deafening after her statement, and in the pause, Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth. “You idiot,” she moaned softly, and that statement seemed to jerk Harry out of his stupefied trance.
“Get. Out. GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT, YOU FUCKING SLUT, AND STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” Harry was on his feet, rage pouring through him, and there were tears pouring down his face that he never remembered welling up in his eyes. Hermione was on her feet as well, hurrying forward to grab Gabrielle before Harry hit her, as it was inevitable that he would do. Gabrielle was screaming and sobbing, and Hermione pushed her into Ginny’s hands before she took the outraged and devastated Harry from the room and outside the front door.
“Harry, for God’s sake,” she whispered as she closed the door. Harry dropped to a sitting position on the stoop and stared at the crabgrass overflowing onto the sidewalk. It was the only grass that had survived the nuclear fallout, and it was taking over everything. He leaned down to pluck a tough section, bringing it up to his eyes and examining it. Hermione sat down with him. “Harry, I’m sorry…She doesn’t understand about you and Draco…”
“You told her, didn’t you?” Harry’s voice was soft, defeated, and he buried his face in the crook of his own elbow. His knuckles were white on his own sleeves, and he took a moment to lose himself in memory of he and Draco, twenty-three years old, walking down a deserted London street at one in the morning. They were both more than a little drunk, and Draco was laughing when he reached over to take one of Harry’s hands. They paused on a bridge, and Draco drew close in the night air, so close that Harry reached out and wrapped his arms around his very best friend and tucked his face in against his neck. ‘God, Potter, I’m so fucking smashed, that’s making me horny. Go on, then. Kiss me there, why don’t you?’ Harry had been just drunk enough to do it, and Draco had laughed and laughed. ‘That’s not kissing! You’re tickling me!’ Harry conceded and pulled his face back, looking into Draco’s eyes. He should have kissed him right then and there, but he did not.
“We had to, Harry…She just had no idea. I hope you didn’t lead everyone else on like that,” Hermione whispered, and Harry shook his head. Harry never did anything but shake his head any more. “Harry…stop what you’re doing. Stop regretting things; you can’t do anything about them now.”
Harry lifted his face to the orange sky and took a deep breath of air stale with radiation. “I should have told him how I was doing…”