|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2007-08-08 18:46:00
|Entry tags:||hp fic draco/harry|
HP fic: Springtime of the Heart [Harry/Draco, general]
Title: Springtime of the Heart
Warning: uh, angsty schmoop?
Summary: Winter can't last forever.
Note: Teenyfic (458 words) written for mordyn4, at the request of alisanne, who suggested Harry/Draco, prompt "spring."
"Hard to believe, isn't it?"
"That we were in school this time last year." That Dumbledore was still alive, this time last year, he didn't say. That I nearly killed you, this time last year.
"I suppose." Draco's face was more pinched than it had been then, the circles under his eyes darker. He kicked at the ground as if he couldn't stop himself.
"I'm sorry about your mother," said Harry quietly. Narcissa Malfoy's body had been discovered a fortnight before; no one in the Order had been able to learn what had happened, although rumor suggested suicide.
He put a hand on Draco's arm, as he had done every day since the news had come, and this time Draco didn't shake him off.
"Come on, walk with me."
They had been staying with Hermione and Ron in a safe house in the country – in Cornwall, Harry thought, or maybe it was Devonshire. Wherever it was, it was remote enough that they could walk along the narrow road for a couple of miles without seeing a Muggle automobile.
"Look there." Harry pointed. Slender green points were pushing up from the dark earth. "Daffodils."
When Draco looked at him quizzically, he shrugged. "My aunt used to make me work in her garden; I learned to recognize things."
Draco nodded. "Harry?"
He turned away, wrapping his arms around himself, his shoulders shaking. Harry moved a few steps away, squatting down, noticing the first signs of primroses peeping out from under the half-rotted leaf mold as well.
When he could no longer hear the sobs Draco muffled against his own hands, Harry went to stand behind him, and Draco leaned back against Harry's chest wearily.
"It's all right." Harry could smell Draco's skin, his hair, the faint touches of smoke from the fireplace in the cottage. He chewed on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, trying not to think about that.
"No, it isn't. It won't be, not until..." Draco fell silent. His breathing shifted, quickening, and Harry waited for him to speak again.
Draco turned, grey eyes looking almost silver in the pale light of the cloudy day. "Harry."
Harry looked at him and tried to smile. "Yeah."
One thin hand lifted to Harry's cheek, tentatively. Harry closed his eyes at the touch, opened them again when a finger slid to his lips. He let his tongue flick against Draco's fingertip.
"Yes." Draco leaned closer, bringing his mouth to Harry's. The kiss only lasted for a moment or two before he pulled away. "Thank you."
"What for?" Harry hoped desperately that this didn't mean that was all Draco wanted from him.
"For reminding me to go on."
As they walked back, Draco held onto Harry's hand.