sassy_cissa (sassy_cissa) wrote in slythindor100, @ 2006-01-14 16:26:00 |
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Original poster: janicechess
Title: The Cave
Challenge: #15 (Write two drabbles, one angst and one fluff, using selected words)
Word Count: Angst: 279, Fluff: 604
Warnings: Angst (character death) for the first one
A/N: The words I chose were: cave, to burn, great, damage, yesterday. Also I, um, borrowed 104 words from the first one for the second one!
Angst:
Harry crawls into the cave on his hands and knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Inside it's cool and dark; he can't see anything beyond his own hands, which are caked with dirt and blood. He collapses onto the ground, the side of his face pressing against the damp rocky floor, feeling flares of pain as the uneven surface provokes the fresh bruises on his abdomen.
If he were capable of it, he would be mulling over how much life can change in a day. Yesterday, he would be remembering, they were all gathered together at Hogwarts, eating a final meal in the Great Hall, celebrating that tomorrow they would strike the final blow against Voldemort. But today, they were broken, scattered, defeated. Something, he would be telling himself, had gone terribly wrong with the plan, and now the entire world was going to burn.
But Harry isn't telling himself anything; the damage is too great. All Harry is doing is breathing in and out, in and out, the space between each shallow inhalation getting longer and longer as his consciousness fades away and his mind recedes into the shadows.
He doesn't hear the muffled groans of pain as another broken body pulls itself through the small cave entrance, or the gasp of shock when the other person sees him lying motionless on the floor. He doesn't see the Death Eater remove his blood-soaked mask to reveal the battered, hollow face of Draco Malfoy. He doesn't feel trembling hands touch him gingerly on the arm, or the fingers run briefly through his matted hair.
When Draco kisses him goodbye, he doesn’t taste the blood or the tears.
***
Fluff:
“Come on, Draco, in here!” called Harry, before dropping to his hands and knees and wiggling through the small opening at the base of the cliff.
Draco followed several seconds later, dragging a basket behind him, scowling at the indignity of being made to crawl in the mud.
“Well this is just great, Harry,” he scoffed, looking around the dimly lit space, “I’ve always wanted to have a nice, romantic picnic in a dank cave.”
“We can go back out there, if you’d prefer,” Harry responded hesitantly, motioning with his head towards the entrance. “Maybe the storm will hold until after lunch.” A flash of lightning, followed less than a second later by a sharp clap of thunder, refuted his words. As the wind began to howl and the pattering of the first drops of rain began to fall, Draco sighed in resignation.
“Well, there’s no way we’re going out there now. This jacket is antique silk! Do you have any idea what sort of damage would occur if it got wet?”
Harry hid his grin by turning away from Draco, pretending to be surveying their surroundings. They hadn’t been seeing each other very long, but Harry had already learned to take Draco’s concern for his clothing very seriously. Last week, on what would have been their second date, Harry had failed to stifle a chuckle when Draco’s cloak had gotten drenched when a lorry, passing by as they walked to the theatre, had driven through a puddle. In response to Harry’s amusement, the sopping wet wizard had stormed away, and when Harry had run after him, the man had Apparated home, behind his wards where Harry couldn’t follow.
It was only yesterday that Draco had finally agreed to give him another chance at their second date. Harry had decided to take him on a picnic by the shore, reasoning that since there were no roads, there would be no lorries and therefore no danger. He hadn’t counted on the thunderstorm. It looked like now this date was doomed as well, and possibly the whole potential relationship – he wasn’t sure he would get another chance after this.
Harry turned around and looked worriedly at Draco. “I’m sorry. I thought this would be nice and instead it’s raining and we’re in a cave and everything is ruined.”
Draco smiled slightly and looked down. He was no longer scowling, Harry noted with a mixture of relief and surprise.
“Um, I can transfigure a rock into a table or something, and we could eat in --” Harry’s words stopped abruptly when he noticed that Draco was looking at him with an expression so smoldering that it threatened to melt the rock walls around them.
Harry felt his face begin to burn in reaction to the implications of the look. He was intensely attracted to Draco, and had been for some time, but he hadn’t thought until a few weeks ago that the feeling might be mutual. They hadn’t even kissed yet, since their first date had been too public, and their second date had been – well it couldn’t even be called a date, but it had been a disaster in any case.
“Nothing’s ruined, Harry. In fact, I’ve always thought that thunderstorms were quite romantic. There’s just something about them,” Draco crooned, stepping closer.
Harry licked his lips nervously, then smiled. Maybe this picnic hadn’t been such a bad idea after all, he thought. When Draco slid his arms around him and kissed him on the lips, gently at first and then urgently, Harry decided that this picnic was the best idea he’d ever had.