Happy Birthday, Draco! Here's another never-posted fic from the archives.
Title: When Father Was Away (June 2003) (
Web version)
Pairing: Draco gen. Harry/Draco if you squint.
Rating: R
Length: ~3,000 words
Warnings: None
Summary: Malfoy Manor, the summer after Fifth Year.
A/N: I wrote this the week after OOTP came out, but never finished it
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Comments 49
you deserve a review that is at least half the size of this entire fic. holy shit, S. Just. holy shit. I am so happy right now. just, so happy and satisfied, and i have missed you, and your writing, SO much.
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*wraps arms around you and never lets go*
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To find she's right, this is amazing XD
But in the last line, you wrote Discorporate. Was that a typo, or am I being stupid and forgetting that it carries meaning?
But, this is still amazing, and one of the few good new hp fics. ^^
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And thanks so much for taking the time to comment -- I really appreciate it!
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Just curious - where is the Benjamin reference? Part of my thesis was on him, but it was mostly addressing the art aspects of his Mechanical Reproduction essay, so I figured I wouldn't spot it if it happened to be something related to his other writings. :D
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Thanks for commenting -- I'm glad you liked it! And thanks so much for giving me an excuse to cut-and-paste the Benjamin quote.
He who loves is attached not only to the "faults" of the beloved, not only to the whims and weaknesses of a woman. Wrinkles in the face, moles, shabby clothes, and a lopsided walk bind him more lastingly and relentlessly than any beauty. This has long been known. And why? If the theory is correct that feeling is not located in the head, that we sentiently experience a window, a cloud, a tree, not in our brains but rather in the place where we see it, then we are, in looking at our beloved, too, outside ourselves. But in a torment of tension and ravishment. Our feeling, dazzled, flutters like a flock of birds in the woman's radiance. And as birds seek refuge in the leafy recesses of a tree, feelings escape into the shaded wrinkles, the awkward movements and inconspicuous blemishes of the body we love, where they can lie low in safety. And no passer by would guess that it is just here, in what is ( ... )
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And I love what you have to say about Benjamin ... did you know that he collected children's books? That makes him so endearing to me, and the circumstances of his death even more tragic.
Thanks so much for telling me about your work ... it's awesome that posting my little fic would end up with me learning something new! :D And thanks again for your comments.
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