Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2007-08-08 17:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp fic draco/harry |
HP fic: Aftermath [Harry/Draco, general]
Title: Aftermath
Author: celandineb
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: general
Summary: Harry visits Draco in St. Mungo's.
Note: This ficlet was written for the August 2005 challenge at The Hex Files, which called for a story that ended with this final line.
Harry hesitated in front of the closed door, holding his flowers, until the same nurse had passed him three times and given him odder and odder stares each time. The corridors of St. Mungo's were not exactly a place most people wanted to linger in. Finally he turned the knob and went inside.
The table by the bed was already covered with filled vases, but Harry squeezed his contribution in somehow, concentrating on arranging the blooms just so even though he had no particular interest in whether every daisy could be seen. He stole a glance at the figure on the bed, who was watching him with an expression that mingled amusement with hauteur. He is just as embarrassed as I am, Harry thought, and that realization gave him the courage to speak.
"Malfoy."
"Yes?" drawled Malfoy, in just the same tones that had always irritated Harry.
"I came to thank you," said Harry, who found that the words were not as difficult to say as he had expected. "For... for not..." For not killing Dumbledore, he wanted to say, but instead finished, "for not sticking with Voldemort. For saving my life."
"It wasn't for you," said Malfoy.
"Wasn't it?" Harry said, and sat down on the wooden chair next to Malfoy's head. He looked straight into Malfoy's pale grey eyes.
Malfoy blinked.
"If I say it wasn't, Potter, then it wasn't."
Harry continued to hold his gaze, and eventually Malfoy said grumpily, "Oh, all right, so what if it was?"
"Thought so," Harry said simply. He began to talk about what had happened in the fight with Voldemort after Malfoy had taken the curse that had been intended for Harry. Malfoy listened, his fingers twitching occasionally against the blankets.
"Potter," he interrupted, as Harry began for the fourth time to describe the peculiar resilience that he had felt from each spell that struck Voldemort.
"What?"
"Shut up and kiss me."