Post by Mistress Whiskers on Sept 21, 2008 19:33:52 GMT -6
Title: Wait
Author: Whiskers
rating: Pg 13
warning: character death, swearing,
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character(s): Alex Potter Draco Malfoy
Gift: For Fang for finishing her “moments in my life...” Fanfic.
Author's note: I can't help it, I'm sorry. It's a bit angsty, no matter what I did.
Summery: Cedric's death and its effects seen through Draco's eye.
Author: Whiskers
rating: Pg 13
warning: character death, swearing,
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character(s): Alex Potter Draco Malfoy
Gift: For Fang for finishing her “moments in my life...” Fanfic.
Author's note: I can't help it, I'm sorry. It's a bit angsty, no matter what I did.
Summery: Cedric's death and its effects seen through Draco's eye.
\*\
“Delusional
I believe I can cure it all for you, dear
Coax or trick or drive or
drag the demons from you
Make it right for you sleeping beauty
Truly thought
I can magically heal you” - Sleeping Beauty by Perfect Circle
“Desperate, I will crawl
Waiting for so long
No love, there is no love.
Die for anyone
What have I become?” -Diary of Jane by Breaking Benjamin
“You're scared
It shows
Been there
You're not prepared to be
In love
With me
So soon cause you've been through enough to have
Something hold you back” -All I need is You by Click Five
/*/
“Delusional
I believe I can cure it all for you, dear
Coax or trick or drive or
drag the demons from you
Make it right for you sleeping beauty
Truly thought
I can magically heal you” - Sleeping Beauty by Perfect Circle
“Desperate, I will crawl
Waiting for so long
No love, there is no love.
Die for anyone
What have I become?” -Diary of Jane by Breaking Benjamin
“You're scared
It shows
Been there
You're not prepared to be
In love
With me
So soon cause you've been through enough to have
Something hold you back” -All I need is You by Click Five
/*/
He had been watching her all year. Her long black hair, the color of her brothers but so much more intense. Her dark green eyes, those eyes that could say so much or nothing at all. Her perfect complexion, creamy and flawless. The graceful way she walked, like a dancer. Her smile, heartwarming and wonderful. He couldn’t help it. He was infatuated.
It was plain that she didn’t return the feeling. She was with that idiot Diggory, just like always. Diggory. Even Potter. They always got the girls. He never got anyone but Pansy.
Yet he couldn’t hate her. He tried, tried as hard as he could to forget and hate. It would be easier if he could forget, if he could hate her like he hated everyone else. But he couldn’t. something in him wouldn’t let him.
She was radiant after the ball. She was always stunning, but this was special. He felt his hatred of Diggory boil and expand, and tried yet again to hate her. It was useless. He could no more hate her than he could hate himself.
At the second task, he’d been terrified. She’d vanished, gone without a trace. He was sick with fear. And then Diggory pulled her up, and he cheered with everyone else, letting out his relief along with his hatred.
They swarmed out of the stands, but not before he saw him lean down and kiss her. It was a sweet kiss, gentle and tender. It was the kind of kiss that he wanted to give her, and he hungered to see the look in her eyes directed at him. It was a fool’s dream, but it was all he had.
The third task, the most anticipated of all. He showed up early and sat just far enough away from her to watch without being obvious. There wasn’t much to see of the actual task, and he drank in her form. Her eyes, bright and shining with hope and faith, her hair, carefully brushed and left loose. A sign of respect, he knew. If Diggory won, she would sweep it back and fix a red rose in it. If he lost, she would let it hand, but adorn it with a single violet. She would be heartbreakingly beautiful either way, but none so much as in those minutes: her hair undecided, her eyes gleaming with more than simple excitement. She was wearing her school robes, but she looked better in them than anyone ever had. He was intoxicated, and couldn’t have taken his eyes off her if he tried.
And then Potter came back. Alone. Carrying Diggory’s body. She blanched, and her eyes, so bright only a moment before, dulled with shock and disbelief. She stood, unable to stop herself, and took a few halting steps towards the body. Cousin and Christina tried to hold her back, but she moved anyway. She didn’t touch the body, or even go any closer. She just stood there, looking, watching, trying to deny the truth. In a trance, she raised her wand and pointed it at herself. He froze, willing her not to do what he was sure she would. She spoke one word, and there was a flash of blinding light. When he looked at her again, her hair, her long, glorious hair, the hair he’d envisioned running his fingers through over and over again had been badly mutilated. Where it had once reached slightly past her waste, it now ended just at her shoulders. It was a clean cut, and the chopped hair was nowhere to be seen. There were no tears yet, but he knew they would come. Nothing had sunk in yet. The hair was an automatic reaction, one born of generations of racial memory. The truth hadn’t reared in her face yet. It would come. When it came, he feared that there would be more than just a haircut.
He didn’t see her again until the last day. He’d been looking, but she was nowhere to be found. But here she was now, bravely showing her face out of respect and pride. She’d come for Diggory, and everybody knew it, even her brother. She was mesmerizing. Her short hair was brushed to a glossy sheen and unadorned. She didn’t wear school robed, but only a long, plain black dress. It was simple, yet breathtaking. It fit her slim figure perfectly descending to her knees. Her legs were visible for the first time since he’d known her, and she was holding her head high. She wore no shoes, but placed one bare foot in front of the other solemnly, looking neither left nor right. She took her seat at the table, not listening to a word Dumbledore said. He didn’t either. When the food appeared, she didn’t touch it. He didn’t eat either. He wasn’t hungry.
He clung on to his cousin's arm tightly as he watched her. It didn't make sence that he should feel so strongly for her now. He had tried to be her brother's friend and he had been a bastard. So he had gone out of his way to let Granger, Weasel and her brother know a Malfoy didn't take insults lightly. He had never been cruel to her, ignored her. Now he couldn't hold on to himself not to run up to her and confess the odd feelings rushing through him.
“What is your problem?” His cousin whispered softly. “You didn't even like Cedric.”
“She-” He couldn't complete the sentence but his cousin looked straight at her and nodded, once.
“Christina won the bet then.” His cousin muttered.
“She doesn't look alive.” Draco breathed, feeling a tearing inside his chest as the words escaped him.
“I know.” His cousin squeezed his hand. “She's taking it a lot harder then Harry is.”
“I...I have to do something.” Draco felt his entire brain cloud slightly, the need to make sure she did no further damage to her wonderful being was all that mattered.
“Leave it alone, D.” His cousin whispered urgently. “She's hurting. If you want her to understand, except what your feeling you have to give her time.”
“I don't want-” Draco felt his cousin stomp on his foot hard.
“Listen to me, Draco Scop Malfoy.” Her voice had a hint of danger in it. “She will not understand if you do it at this moment. Wait for her to smile again.”
“But I want to make her smile again.” Draco begged.
“She's not ready to smile. Just wait.”