Fic: Something real, Harry/Draco
Feb. 22nd, 2005 11:47 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
nomango.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
bottom_dracoTitle: Something Real
Pairing: H/D, other/D
Rating: eventual NC17
Warning: Angst and violence and all things nice.
Disclaimer: Not-for-profit play in JKR's world.
Summary:- The war is over and Draco wants his happily ever after.
He put up with it for months, or maybe it was years, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember when it had started going bad, it just was. That was the way it was and it never even occurred to Draco to end it or leave. Couples had their rough patches; you just had to work through them. Theirs was a forever thing, a thing that would never have happened if it wasn’t a forever thing and so, you had problems, you worked through them. It would get better.
Except it never did. There was tension all the time it seemed. The good times, the ones with real smiles rather than biting ones, got more rare to non-existent. He tried to put it right - someone had to make the first move, but it never worked. The retorts, the rejection, got harsher, cutting, more cruel. He kept trying anyway.
The sex was rough, but theirs had never been a gentle love. Even so, there was a difference between rough sex and hate sex and he could only fool himself for so long. Then he took to closing his eyes, or facing the other way. It was easier when you couldn’t see the truth right there, barely a lick away. A teasing lick on the tip of a nose, which he never did anymore, but still, just a lick away.
He was spending more and more nights alone, but he still set the table for two and shopped for two. Then one night Blaise called, and they talked and it was good to actually laugh and feel like words weren’t hidden dangers. So when Blaise suggested meeting at the pub round the corner, he agreed and went, feeling better than he had done in a long time.
The night was cold and he pushed through the pub door, eager to reach the warmth of the fire. The noise and chatter took him back a bit, made him pause. It had been a while since he had socialised so openly, but the fire was sorely needed and he pushed his way through the crowd. He used his teeth to pull off his gloves, rubbing his cold, pale hands briskly to warm the blood faster. Then he turned to look out for Blaise and that was when he saw them.
By the bar, by the wall, leaning towards each other and bodies so close as to make it quite clear to anyone watching that they were more than friends. Still, he didn’t believe, so he kept watching. Theirs was a forever thing. Harry wouldn’t cheat on him. Seconds passed and he heard nothing, saw nothing but Harry and Seamus talking and laughing, faces barely a lick away from each other, and Harry’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding a glass, was out of sight.
“Draco.” A tug on his arm and Blaise was there, dark face smiling but concerned. “Something wrong?”
He didn’t answer, just turned back to watch Harry. Harry and Seamus. And then Harry was watching him back and hadn’t that always been the way? Draco and Harry, watching each other across rooms and corridors and battlefields. Then Harry’s eyes flicked away, his mouth smiling and moving and Draco followed those eyes and looked straight into Seamus’. Laughing Irish eyes. Harry looked at him again, but only briefly, before some hidden signal made them both turn away from Draco, back to each other. Dismissing him.
“I take it you didn’t know.” Blaise said, putting a glass in his hands. “I thought you did. He doesn’t hide it.”
There was time implied there. Draco sipped his drink. He couldn’t taste it. Blaise kept on talking even though Draco hadn’t said a single word to him yet, and Draco watched his face as he did so even though he didn’t hear a single word.
He didn’t remember leaving the pub but he must have done as it was the next day and he was trying to talk to Harry, just inside his front door. Harry was putting on his coat to go out.
“Seamus?” He asked, not really knowing what he was asking.
Harry smiled slightly, then walked out. It hadn’t been one of his nice smiles, and the look in those famous green eyes had said it all.
He cleared away the remains of breakfast, did the dishes. A house elf would have been nice, but Harry hadn’t wanted one, so Draco had learnt to do a lot of things the muggle way. Like cooking and cleaning. His own magic had been too messed up by the wars to be relied on. He put the last plate on the drainer, dried his hands and went into the bedroom.
Stepping out of his pyjamas, he walked into the bathroom and had a long, hot shower. His hair was getting long again and he had booked an appointment to get it cut later in the week. Harry didn’t like it long. He’d never said why but Draco had a feeling it was because his father had worn his long. Draco couldn’t see the resemblance himself, apart from the colour of his hair, but everyone else seemed to and it made them uncomfortable.
After drying his body and gelling his hair just enough to get that tousled look, he went over to his wardrobe to choose his muggle clothing. He had quite a selection now, mugglewear being quite in fashion these days. His father would have seen it as another sign of the muggles threatening wizarding life, and who was to say he was wrong? Invasion need not always be violent. But Harry didn’t like him to say things like that so he didn’t.
He pulled on a pair of jeans, frowning a bit at the feel of the coarse fabric. He’ll have to shop for a softer pair later and he was quite certain the muggles would have made some; say what you like about muggles, they were quite good at making life comfortable. Quite impressive the things they’d done, and all without magic. It made him feel better, and that was something he had never expected – Draco Malfoy, muggle lover. But then, Draco Malfoy had never expected to face a life without magic. Draco Malfoy, squib.
White t-shirt, black sweater, and then what was easily his most favourite piece of muggle clothing, the butter-soft, black leather jacket. It was a motorcycle jacket, full of buckles and straps, but there was no way Draco would ever risk it by riding a motorcycle. Or a broom. He didn’t even like taking it through the floo network. A pair of black Doc Martens finished off the look.
The muggle backpack that he had bought last time he had ventured out to muggle London was still where he had thrown it, at the back of his wardrobe. He dragged it out, threw in some muggle clothing, his wand, and the wooden box his mother had given him years ago. Walking around the flat, he checked the windows were closed, the fire out and then he left.
He never went back.
Feedback welcome, as are offers to beta, and of course, chocolate.
Pairing: H/D, other/D
Rating: eventual NC17
Warning: Angst and violence and all things nice.
Disclaimer: Not-for-profit play in JKR's world.
Summary:- The war is over and Draco wants his happily ever after.
He put up with it for months, or maybe it was years, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember when it had started going bad, it just was. That was the way it was and it never even occurred to Draco to end it or leave. Couples had their rough patches; you just had to work through them. Theirs was a forever thing, a thing that would never have happened if it wasn’t a forever thing and so, you had problems, you worked through them. It would get better.
Except it never did. There was tension all the time it seemed. The good times, the ones with real smiles rather than biting ones, got more rare to non-existent. He tried to put it right - someone had to make the first move, but it never worked. The retorts, the rejection, got harsher, cutting, more cruel. He kept trying anyway.
The sex was rough, but theirs had never been a gentle love. Even so, there was a difference between rough sex and hate sex and he could only fool himself for so long. Then he took to closing his eyes, or facing the other way. It was easier when you couldn’t see the truth right there, barely a lick away. A teasing lick on the tip of a nose, which he never did anymore, but still, just a lick away.
He was spending more and more nights alone, but he still set the table for two and shopped for two. Then one night Blaise called, and they talked and it was good to actually laugh and feel like words weren’t hidden dangers. So when Blaise suggested meeting at the pub round the corner, he agreed and went, feeling better than he had done in a long time.
The night was cold and he pushed through the pub door, eager to reach the warmth of the fire. The noise and chatter took him back a bit, made him pause. It had been a while since he had socialised so openly, but the fire was sorely needed and he pushed his way through the crowd. He used his teeth to pull off his gloves, rubbing his cold, pale hands briskly to warm the blood faster. Then he turned to look out for Blaise and that was when he saw them.
By the bar, by the wall, leaning towards each other and bodies so close as to make it quite clear to anyone watching that they were more than friends. Still, he didn’t believe, so he kept watching. Theirs was a forever thing. Harry wouldn’t cheat on him. Seconds passed and he heard nothing, saw nothing but Harry and Seamus talking and laughing, faces barely a lick away from each other, and Harry’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding a glass, was out of sight.
“Draco.” A tug on his arm and Blaise was there, dark face smiling but concerned. “Something wrong?”
He didn’t answer, just turned back to watch Harry. Harry and Seamus. And then Harry was watching him back and hadn’t that always been the way? Draco and Harry, watching each other across rooms and corridors and battlefields. Then Harry’s eyes flicked away, his mouth smiling and moving and Draco followed those eyes and looked straight into Seamus’. Laughing Irish eyes. Harry looked at him again, but only briefly, before some hidden signal made them both turn away from Draco, back to each other. Dismissing him.
“I take it you didn’t know.” Blaise said, putting a glass in his hands. “I thought you did. He doesn’t hide it.”
There was time implied there. Draco sipped his drink. He couldn’t taste it. Blaise kept on talking even though Draco hadn’t said a single word to him yet, and Draco watched his face as he did so even though he didn’t hear a single word.
He didn’t remember leaving the pub but he must have done as it was the next day and he was trying to talk to Harry, just inside his front door. Harry was putting on his coat to go out.
“Seamus?” He asked, not really knowing what he was asking.
Harry smiled slightly, then walked out. It hadn’t been one of his nice smiles, and the look in those famous green eyes had said it all.
He cleared away the remains of breakfast, did the dishes. A house elf would have been nice, but Harry hadn’t wanted one, so Draco had learnt to do a lot of things the muggle way. Like cooking and cleaning. His own magic had been too messed up by the wars to be relied on. He put the last plate on the drainer, dried his hands and went into the bedroom.
Stepping out of his pyjamas, he walked into the bathroom and had a long, hot shower. His hair was getting long again and he had booked an appointment to get it cut later in the week. Harry didn’t like it long. He’d never said why but Draco had a feeling it was because his father had worn his long. Draco couldn’t see the resemblance himself, apart from the colour of his hair, but everyone else seemed to and it made them uncomfortable.
After drying his body and gelling his hair just enough to get that tousled look, he went over to his wardrobe to choose his muggle clothing. He had quite a selection now, mugglewear being quite in fashion these days. His father would have seen it as another sign of the muggles threatening wizarding life, and who was to say he was wrong? Invasion need not always be violent. But Harry didn’t like him to say things like that so he didn’t.
He pulled on a pair of jeans, frowning a bit at the feel of the coarse fabric. He’ll have to shop for a softer pair later and he was quite certain the muggles would have made some; say what you like about muggles, they were quite good at making life comfortable. Quite impressive the things they’d done, and all without magic. It made him feel better, and that was something he had never expected – Draco Malfoy, muggle lover. But then, Draco Malfoy had never expected to face a life without magic. Draco Malfoy, squib.
White t-shirt, black sweater, and then what was easily his most favourite piece of muggle clothing, the butter-soft, black leather jacket. It was a motorcycle jacket, full of buckles and straps, but there was no way Draco would ever risk it by riding a motorcycle. Or a broom. He didn’t even like taking it through the floo network. A pair of black Doc Martens finished off the look.
The muggle backpack that he had bought last time he had ventured out to muggle London was still where he had thrown it, at the back of his wardrobe. He dragged it out, threw in some muggle clothing, his wand, and the wooden box his mother had given him years ago. Walking around the flat, he checked the windows were closed, the fire out and then he left.
He never went back.
Feedback welcome, as are offers to beta, and of course, chocolate.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 12:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 01:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 12:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 01:31 am (UTC)Same here - I don't like passive!broken!Dracos. Here though, his body, mind, ego, everything, has suffered knocks galore and he's coping by living in denial. Which is not coping at all. This thing with Harry serves as a wake-up call.
Hopefully, what's in my head will transfer nicely to paper.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 08:38 am (UTC)Draco suffered a lot of loss and he never expected Harry to add to it. This though, serves to knock him out of his numb, denial shell and kick him towards finding himself again.
I wasn't too sure how well I had managed to show his protective detachment, but you give me hope I managed to convey some of it at least *g*
no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 03:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 08:46 pm (UTC)It won't be sweetness and light, and some people were worried this Draco was set to be that. But he can't be spitting and maniacal evil plotty boy all the time, and if he was, that would be very 2-dimensional.... although, it would probably make it more canon if he was so.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 06:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 09:55 am (UTC)And you are the first to suggest it's because of his docility, his difference to how he usually is, that causes Harry to stray. So yay for you:) - but it's only part of the reason. He has his own demons to deal with and got only himself to blame ultimately. Besides, true love should be through good and bad yadda yadda, right?