vickyducky (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vickyducky) wrote2011-04-11 06:39 pm
vickyducky) wrote2011-04-11 06:39 pm
Hello again, have a fic (ish)
Well, I'm not dead, although I did nearly drown in self-pity at one point! Anyway ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leo_draconis is hosting a H/D Shared Bed fest and astonishingly it inspired me to write this ficlet, although I've a feeling it isn't at all what she was expecting/hoping for. But, for what it's worth here it is:
Warnings: none
Rating: G
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Draco lay still, heart pounding, listening intently. He stared into the darkness, searching desperately for he didn't know what, but all he could make out was the heavy furniture looming over him in the unfamiliar room.
He had lain awake most of the night, wondering why Potter had acceded to Minister Shaklebolt's request that he house Draco for the time being. Wondering also why the request had been made at all, why wasn't he mouldering in Azkhaban with his parents? Finally he had fallen into a fitful doze until a moment ago when something had startled him awake. Just as he had convinced himself that all was quiet there came a shout from somewhere close at hand.
"No! No! I can't..."
Potter's voice! Potter's voice filled with terror, which very effectively communicated itself to Draco.
"I can't..." Potter said again, this time sounding less frightened, more sorrowful, "I couldn't save everyone."
Someone or something had got to Potter and was doing who knew what to him. Draco sat up in bed. It seemed quite likely that he'd be next in the firing line and the sensible thing would be to get away as far and as fast as he could. But... but could he really leave Potter to his fate? Once upon a time he wouldn't have hesitated, would have been glad to think of Potter suffering, but now? He knew that Potter had spoken up for him, and for his mother. And Potter had saved his life, twice at least. Had saved them all. But what could he do, wandless as he was? Nevertheless he must at least try. If for no other reason than if he didn't, he was quite likely to get the blame for the assailant gaining entry to Potter's home.
Steeling himself, Draco climbed out of bed and made his way to the door by sheer force of will, convinced every second that his trembling legs would give way. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, straining his ears. Potter was moaning wordlessly but Draco couldn't hear anything else. Painstakingly slowly he opened the door and peered out into the corridor. He tiptoed to Potter's door and with a deep breath and no notion of what he was going to do next, threw it open and rushed in.
He pulled up just short of the bed, in which Potter lay, his face twisted in fear. Draco looked around frantically but there was no one there, they were quite alone.
"Not Fred," Potter sobbed, making Draco look back at him.
With a mixture of relief and annoyance he realised that Potter was having a nightmare. He wanted to shake the bloody fool for scaring him so, but something in Potter's expression touched a nerve. It wasn't as if Draco didn't know how real dreams could seem, and how desperate he had been to escape some of his own. Unbidden, an image of his mother filled his mind, of her comforting him through childish nightmares of his own. He looked down at Potter, twitching in his sleep, and trying not to think about what he was doing, slipped into bed beside him.
"Sh," he soothed, gently stroking Potter's hair away from his face. "Sh, it's okay now." Reflexively Potter turned and nuzzled closer to the warm body now pressed against his own. Draco closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "It's okay now," he muttered again, beginning to relax. "You're safe." He could feel sleep stealing over him. "We're safe."
leo_draconis is hosting a H/D Shared Bed fest and astonishingly it inspired me to write this ficlet, although I've a feeling it isn't at all what she was expecting/hoping for. But, for what it's worth here it is:Warnings: none
Rating: G
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Draco lay still, heart pounding, listening intently. He stared into the darkness, searching desperately for he didn't know what, but all he could make out was the heavy furniture looming over him in the unfamiliar room.
He had lain awake most of the night, wondering why Potter had acceded to Minister Shaklebolt's request that he house Draco for the time being. Wondering also why the request had been made at all, why wasn't he mouldering in Azkhaban with his parents? Finally he had fallen into a fitful doze until a moment ago when something had startled him awake. Just as he had convinced himself that all was quiet there came a shout from somewhere close at hand.
"No! No! I can't..."
Potter's voice! Potter's voice filled with terror, which very effectively communicated itself to Draco.
"I can't..." Potter said again, this time sounding less frightened, more sorrowful, "I couldn't save everyone."
Someone or something had got to Potter and was doing who knew what to him. Draco sat up in bed. It seemed quite likely that he'd be next in the firing line and the sensible thing would be to get away as far and as fast as he could. But... but could he really leave Potter to his fate? Once upon a time he wouldn't have hesitated, would have been glad to think of Potter suffering, but now? He knew that Potter had spoken up for him, and for his mother. And Potter had saved his life, twice at least. Had saved them all. But what could he do, wandless as he was? Nevertheless he must at least try. If for no other reason than if he didn't, he was quite likely to get the blame for the assailant gaining entry to Potter's home.
Steeling himself, Draco climbed out of bed and made his way to the door by sheer force of will, convinced every second that his trembling legs would give way. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, straining his ears. Potter was moaning wordlessly but Draco couldn't hear anything else. Painstakingly slowly he opened the door and peered out into the corridor. He tiptoed to Potter's door and with a deep breath and no notion of what he was going to do next, threw it open and rushed in.
He pulled up just short of the bed, in which Potter lay, his face twisted in fear. Draco looked around frantically but there was no one there, they were quite alone.
"Not Fred," Potter sobbed, making Draco look back at him.
With a mixture of relief and annoyance he realised that Potter was having a nightmare. He wanted to shake the bloody fool for scaring him so, but something in Potter's expression touched a nerve. It wasn't as if Draco didn't know how real dreams could seem, and how desperate he had been to escape some of his own. Unbidden, an image of his mother filled his mind, of her comforting him through childish nightmares of his own. He looked down at Potter, twitching in his sleep, and trying not to think about what he was doing, slipped into bed beside him.
"Sh," he soothed, gently stroking Potter's hair away from his face. "Sh, it's okay now." Reflexively Potter turned and nuzzled closer to the warm body now pressed against his own. Draco closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "It's okay now," he muttered again, beginning to relax. "You're safe." He could feel sleep stealing over him. "We're safe."
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