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\"Memory and Dream\" or \"Why crows sing at midnight\"
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,378
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,378
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Prolougue
Well here is something a bit different. I just-as in several hours ago-finished HBP, and I loved it. This is what comes of it.
Sorry for the short chapter, but it had to be that way, and I need sleep badly.
Disclaimer: None of the charecters are mine. Little of the plot is mine. Few of the ideas are mine, infact the title isn\'t even mine!-Thank you J.K. Rawling and Charles De Lint
~~~~~
The air felt think on Draco Malfoys face as he sat in the corner of the smokey room. His hair was matted and caked with mud. No longer was he the slytharin prince, but, of corse, Slytherin was no more. Hogwarts was now no more then a castle, the students were sent to the smaller regonal schools...but that was in the past for the Malfoy boy.
All he could think of was that fateful night, the night that had set the rest of his life spinning, the night he could not kill.
It seemed to Draco that this was the reson that he first sought refuge with Harry Potter. He had knows that Harry had been in that room. He wasn\'t sure how he knew, but he did know. And Harry was the only person who knew how close Draco had been to accepting Dumbledor\'s offer.
But again, that was the past. Now he was easly glanced over as he huddled over a long empty tankard and listened to the talk around him.
The Leaky Cauldren was not having what you would call bustling buisness. But things had picked up since Dumbledore\'s death. Draco listed with intrest to the muttered dealings and conversations, searching with every moment for information. He prayed with all his soul for the mark on his arm not to burn in pain and for the protection and non detection spells that he and Harry set every mourning to hold for the day.
He knew that a single slip could mean death, not only for he and Potter, but for the Order and, perhaps, the entirty of wizardry.
Draco looked into the empty mug with disgust, how the mighty had fallen. Just as he was about to wave to Tom, the barkeeper for more whisky, he saw the door into Muggle Londen open. He glanced up half-heartedly, and smiled to himself when he saw who walked through the door.
That was his que, it was time to leave.
Sorry for the short chapter, but it had to be that way, and I need sleep badly.
Disclaimer: None of the charecters are mine. Little of the plot is mine. Few of the ideas are mine, infact the title isn\'t even mine!-Thank you J.K. Rawling and Charles De Lint
~~~~~
The air felt think on Draco Malfoys face as he sat in the corner of the smokey room. His hair was matted and caked with mud. No longer was he the slytharin prince, but, of corse, Slytherin was no more. Hogwarts was now no more then a castle, the students were sent to the smaller regonal schools...but that was in the past for the Malfoy boy.
All he could think of was that fateful night, the night that had set the rest of his life spinning, the night he could not kill.
It seemed to Draco that this was the reson that he first sought refuge with Harry Potter. He had knows that Harry had been in that room. He wasn\'t sure how he knew, but he did know. And Harry was the only person who knew how close Draco had been to accepting Dumbledor\'s offer.
But again, that was the past. Now he was easly glanced over as he huddled over a long empty tankard and listened to the talk around him.
The Leaky Cauldren was not having what you would call bustling buisness. But things had picked up since Dumbledore\'s death. Draco listed with intrest to the muttered dealings and conversations, searching with every moment for information. He prayed with all his soul for the mark on his arm not to burn in pain and for the protection and non detection spells that he and Harry set every mourning to hold for the day.
He knew that a single slip could mean death, not only for he and Potter, but for the Order and, perhaps, the entirty of wizardry.
Draco looked into the empty mug with disgust, how the mighty had fallen. Just as he was about to wave to Tom, the barkeeper for more whisky, he saw the door into Muggle Londen open. He glanced up half-heartedly, and smiled to himself when he saw who walked through the door.
That was his que, it was time to leave.