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*** Stop it. Stop it. Stop it, please. Stop it, please, I’m begging you. Stop it, please, I’m begging you, I feel like I’m going to die. Stop it, please, please, I’m going to die. Stop it, please, I don’t want to die. Stop it, please, I’m begging you. Stop it, please. Stop it. Stop it. --- Snow was falling outside, light, small flakes that fluttered down from the heavens. Draco Malfoy stood in one of the Hogwarts gardens, wearing only a half-buttoned black shirt and black trousers, hands in his pockets. He was looking up at the snow, could feel the dampness as it began to soak into his ponytail. He laughed. It was so nice. --- He was in Potions. He scowled as he stirred his cauldron, the heat from the flame drying his hands and face. Too hot. His potion bubbled, gave a flash of white light, and was finished. Draco held up his hand, smiling smugly; he finished before Granger, again. Snape went to his bench, inspecting the potion briefly before heaping praises on him. Draco smiled as Harry caught his eye and glared. --- Late at night. In his room. He wasn’t stupid enough to do this around the school – what if he got caught? This was such a beautiful place. Oh, such a beautiful place would come. Beautiful. His secret place inside himself. Oh, how beautiful. Draco swayed, and fell. --- He noticed a pair of strangely green eyes watching him these days. He would often smile to himself when he felt them, and perfected his technique in suddenly turning his head so that he caught the gaze of those eyes. Harry would sometimes stare back, but he would mostly blush and look away, only to look back when Draco turned away. Draco always smiled when he turned away again. --- Charms. Granger and he were having a huge debate over the ethics of some charms they were learning just then. Granger was twisted round in her chair to face him, posture tense as she glared, ready to pounce. Draco was leaning back in his seat, smirking, enjoying it all too much. He enjoyed Harry’s eyes on him as well. --- It was snowing again, but this time, the flakes were larger, coming down in clumps, soaking his clothes. His eyes were closed, head tilted up, feeling the rough slide of snow against his skin. Crimson lips were parted slightly, the corners turned upwards as he revelled in the snow. The storm was picking up now, the wind was whistling loudly, and the snow was well over his ankles. But it was so nice. He opened his eyes, and saw Harry. Harry was shivering, wrapped in a thick winter cloak, fur-lined boots and gloves, arms crossed to try and keep some of his warmth. “Malfoy,” he said, eyes wide. Draco smiled. “Malfoy – you’re going to freeze to death.” Draco looked down at his clothing. Black shirt, again half-buttoned. Black trousers. Thin fabric – the shirt was silk and was now plastered to him, wet. His skin seemed to glow inside, and his smile grew. “No,” he said. Harry shook his head, reaching out a hand to him. “Malfoy. Come on. It’s freezing out here. Come back inside.” He shook his head. “Draco wants to stay here,” he said almost childishly. “Malfoy,” Harry growled. Then he sighed, and spoke again, this time gently, soothingly. “Come back inside with me, Malfoy. Come on. We’ll go to the kitchen, and the house elves will make us hot chocolate, how’s that? Draco pouted, and Harry’s green eyes widened, shining in the moonlight as wind ruffled their hair, black strands waving erratically, long silver ones swaying gently. “Don’t want,” he said, voice strangely high. “Draco wants beauty. Draco wants snow.” “Malfoy –” Harry sighed. “Ten seconds. Then I’m dragging your ass inside whether you want to or not.” Draco smiled again, and closed his eyes, tilting his head back up. Too soon, Harry grabbed his arm, just above the elbow, and began hauling back into the warmth of the school. Draco pouted once more. Warmth suffocated him. --- He was at that beautiful place again – but he had been careless this time, and was stuck…somewhere, unable to move without falling over, unable to stand without swaying and collapsing. He was at that beautiful place – but this time, Harry was there too, standing in the doorway, a look of shock on his face. Draco laughed. Harry bit his lip to hold in a scream. Draco’s eyes closed, and he slumped over himself on the floor. Harry screamed. --- He was locked away, again, whimpering. Nonononononono Crucio please daddy don’t please daddy it hurts Crucio it hurts oh it hurts so much please daddy don’t no please no Where was his beautiful place? He was supposed to be in his beautiful place, not here. Beautiful place, not here, not here not here not here not here not.here.not.here.not.here… no more crucio no more no more please daddy I promise I’ll be good I’ll be a good boy I’ll learn I’ll learn please daddy hurts so much He wanted his beautiful place. Draco fainted, and fell to the stone floor, into a puddle of blood and vomit. --- There were stiff, starchy sheets scratching at his skin. Draco struggled to open his eyes, and saw Harry standing there, watching him. Harry moved closer as Draco heaved himself into a sitting position. “Draco,” he said, softly. Draco looked up at him. And clung on desperately as he cried. --- His bandages were no more, and the scars on his flesh had been healed. Draco stood in the warm air, scowling at the gentle breeze, scowling at the grass, scowling at the clear sky. He hated spring. He hated sunny days, hated blue skies, hated fluffy white clouds. He hated the happy smiles, hated the cheery expressions, hated the feeling of rebirth in the air. He hated the warm wind, hated the warm night, hated the warmness of the entire fucking season. He hated spring so much. He growled. A gentle tap on his shoulder, and he whirled, still scowling, eyes flashing. “Contemplating your hate for spring?” Harry asked, grinning. Draco scowled harder. “Winter will be here again soon, you know.” A small, affectionate laugh. “Draco wants play in snow.” Harry tilted his head to the left, looking up at Draco under long eyelashes. “I know.” “Draco wants now.” Harry smiled at him, hand going to caress a delicate cheek. “Not just yet.” Draco somehow managed to glare and pout at the same time. “Your fault,” he declared. “Yes.” Harry’s smile widened. And leaned in to kiss him. Draco shivered, and the wind turned cold and the moon turned red with his blood and he could feel snow falling around him and he was in his beautiful place again – it hadn’t disappeared after all. They broke apart after a while, and Draco licked his lips as Harry grinned at him, a glazed look in his eyes. Draco’s silver eyes glinted. “Draco wants more,” he demanded. “And more and more and more and more and…” “Shh.” Harry placed a finger on Draco’s lips. “Anything you want, I’ll give. Even your winter.” And Draco pulled him close, partly to hide his blush, partly to kiss Harry again. The End! Notes: So, yes, that was weird. I guess it kinda sucked, too, and obviously isn’t my best writing…I don’t think. There are a few things that probably need some explanation anyhow: 1) Lucius is abusive, and rather free with his use of the Cruciatus curse. 2) Draco is self-abusive, and likes to cut himself because it takes him to his “beautiful place” – basically a place where everything is beautiful and everything is perfect, just the way he likes it to be. 3) There’s nothing wrong with Draco. He can speak perfectly fine. He just likes to act like that around Harry, with no one else nearby to overhear him. 4) There may be something wrong with Draco in the sense that he loves the cold so much. *shrug* I think it’s sexy, LOL! Hope you enjoyed! |