(no subject)
Sep. 3rd, 2005 08:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notworthySo, today is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
getaway_machine's birthday. I don't have to go into detail about how awesome this girl is, right? Because if you don't know her personally, I've gone on and on about her. She won't read this until Tuesday or later, but Happy Birthday baby. I hope you've had/are having a good day, and I hope you like this.
What If I Told You This Was Killing Me?
HP, Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny, Harry/Ron/Hermione, R
He’s lost track of both Ron and Hermione, although this is not the first time it’s ever happened- since they met, or since their sixth year ended. Harry will find them both in time- he always does, and he always will.
Right now, his entire focus is on Draco Malfoy, who doesn’t bother to turn and face him. It’s as if he knew that Harry wouldn’t kill him, not while his back is turned. It’s a little insulting, even though Harry hasn’t even taken out his wand yet. He understood why- Draco wasn’t a murderer. He was just a rich boy with a superiority complex- one that had been installed in him since birth.
“If I asked you to, would you kill me?” Draco asked him, and Harry frowned.
“No,” Harry answered simply.
Finally, Draco turned. “What if I deserved it, then?” He put his hands up, showing Harry how bloody they both were.
A scream.
Dread crawling into his stomach, Harry spun around, and to his horror, Ron’s broken body was on the ground. It looked like he had fallen from the Gryffindor tower.
“I did it for you. In order for you to become who you need to be,” Draco said, his voice a whisper in Harry’s ear.
Harry screamed, and woke up.
::::
Ginny’s hands are gentle as she smoothed his hair down, desperate to comfort him. Harry twisted around so that he was facing her, lying in her embrace.
“Shh Harry, it’s okay. It’s over, remember? You killed him.”
Harry couldn’t forget.
:::::
They had spent that last night together, the three of them. Dinner had been made, and they talked endlessly. Mostly about nothing important- although they mentioned Bill’s scars and Sirius’ death.
“I love you both,” Hermione said suddenly, tears coming to her eyes, “If we don’t make it, I wanted you to know that.”
Harry’s last good memory- one that he used to thwart off Dementors later the next day- was of them both, hands roaming and lips meeting. He had laughed with them, and finally, he cried.
:::::
“Harry? Are you going to be okay?” Ginny asked, kissing his forehead.
“You’re here. I’ll be fine,” Harry reassured her, his lips meeting hers sweetly. Ginny kissed him back fiercely, as if she was trying to crawl inside him.
Harry would let her if she could.
:::::
“Why are you still here?” Harry asked. Maybe he was dreaming again. Maybe he wasn’t. Either way, Draco was in front of him again, his hands shoved into his trousers. “I killed you.”
“Alas, I’m not dead,” Draco replied, amused, “Or at least, I don’t think I am. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
”I killed you,” Harry repeated.
“Are you daft? How long are you going to go on and on about that? I’m right in front of you, aren’t I?” Draco sneered, annoyed now.
“I killed you,” Harry whispered.
“I’m only as dead as you want me to be.”
::::
Harry never wanted him dead. He wanted Malfoy’s teeth on him, biting and drawing blood. He wanted Malfoy’s cock in him, fucking him until he nearly blacked out.
(But then again, he wanted Hermione’s hands in his hair, and Ron pressing soft kisses into his back. He won’t have one of them without the other anymore, and wished it was the same for them.)
Harry isn’t sure what he wanted.
::::
What Harry has though, is this:
Ginny fixed breakfast at six in the morning, but it always ended up burning when Harry tugged her back into bed, pulling off the button down shirt that she slept in. They go to work in different places, and come home at the same time. Hermione and Ron always come over for tea, and none of them speak about the war, or what they lost. Once they left, Harry would make love to Ginny,- he can’t describe it as anything else, even though he hates that phrase- her legs around his waist and her back arched as they moved slowly.
At night, he has this:
Malfoy haunting him. They will fuck, they will fight- themselves or others- or sometimes, they just be.
That is the exact moment Harry woke up, and he has nothing.
getaway_machine's birthday. I don't have to go into detail about how awesome this girl is, right? Because if you don't know her personally, I've gone on and on about her. She won't read this until Tuesday or later, but Happy Birthday baby. I hope you've had/are having a good day, and I hope you like this.What If I Told You This Was Killing Me?
HP, Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny, Harry/Ron/Hermione, R
He’s lost track of both Ron and Hermione, although this is not the first time it’s ever happened- since they met, or since their sixth year ended. Harry will find them both in time- he always does, and he always will.
Right now, his entire focus is on Draco Malfoy, who doesn’t bother to turn and face him. It’s as if he knew that Harry wouldn’t kill him, not while his back is turned. It’s a little insulting, even though Harry hasn’t even taken out his wand yet. He understood why- Draco wasn’t a murderer. He was just a rich boy with a superiority complex- one that had been installed in him since birth.
“If I asked you to, would you kill me?” Draco asked him, and Harry frowned.
“No,” Harry answered simply.
Finally, Draco turned. “What if I deserved it, then?” He put his hands up, showing Harry how bloody they both were.
A scream.
Dread crawling into his stomach, Harry spun around, and to his horror, Ron’s broken body was on the ground. It looked like he had fallen from the Gryffindor tower.
“I did it for you. In order for you to become who you need to be,” Draco said, his voice a whisper in Harry’s ear.
Harry screamed, and woke up.
Ginny’s hands are gentle as she smoothed his hair down, desperate to comfort him. Harry twisted around so that he was facing her, lying in her embrace.
“Shh Harry, it’s okay. It’s over, remember? You killed him.”
Harry couldn’t forget.
They had spent that last night together, the three of them. Dinner had been made, and they talked endlessly. Mostly about nothing important- although they mentioned Bill’s scars and Sirius’ death.
“I love you both,” Hermione said suddenly, tears coming to her eyes, “If we don’t make it, I wanted you to know that.”
Harry’s last good memory- one that he used to thwart off Dementors later the next day- was of them both, hands roaming and lips meeting. He had laughed with them, and finally, he cried.
“Harry? Are you going to be okay?” Ginny asked, kissing his forehead.
“You’re here. I’ll be fine,” Harry reassured her, his lips meeting hers sweetly. Ginny kissed him back fiercely, as if she was trying to crawl inside him.
Harry would let her if she could.
“Why are you still here?” Harry asked. Maybe he was dreaming again. Maybe he wasn’t. Either way, Draco was in front of him again, his hands shoved into his trousers. “I killed you.”
“Alas, I’m not dead,” Draco replied, amused, “Or at least, I don’t think I am. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
”I killed you,” Harry repeated.
“Are you daft? How long are you going to go on and on about that? I’m right in front of you, aren’t I?” Draco sneered, annoyed now.
“I killed you,” Harry whispered.
“I’m only as dead as you want me to be.”
Harry never wanted him dead. He wanted Malfoy’s teeth on him, biting and drawing blood. He wanted Malfoy’s cock in him, fucking him until he nearly blacked out.
(But then again, he wanted Hermione’s hands in his hair, and Ron pressing soft kisses into his back. He won’t have one of them without the other anymore, and wished it was the same for them.)
Harry isn’t sure what he wanted.
What Harry has though, is this:
Ginny fixed breakfast at six in the morning, but it always ended up burning when Harry tugged her back into bed, pulling off the button down shirt that she slept in. They go to work in different places, and come home at the same time. Hermione and Ron always come over for tea, and none of them speak about the war, or what they lost. Once they left, Harry would make love to Ginny,- he can’t describe it as anything else, even though he hates that phrase- her legs around his waist and her back arched as they moved slowly.
At night, he has this:
Malfoy haunting him. They will fuck, they will fight- themselves or others- or sometimes, they just be.
That is the exact moment Harry woke up, and he has nothing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-09-07 05:49 am (UTC)“I’m only as dead as you want me to be.”
That line killed me dead, too... just. Yes.
But this whole fic... wow. I don't even know what to say here, except that you continue to amaze me with your writing, and this is quite possibly my favorite HP fic of yours ever. WOW.
I love you so much. THANK YOU.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-09 02:21 am (UTC)