The Story
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,910
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,910
Reviews:
26
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.
Garden
As I promised, this chapter is longer. Yay! Hope you like it:D By the way, this chapter is more of a filler chapter. It was written when I couldn't think of anything to add to the story so if it's kinda off topic and whatnot, that'd be why.
“Maybe tonight we can forget about it all
It could be just like heaven
I am a machine
No longer living just a shell of what I dream.”
The Fantasy by 30 Seconds to Mars
Chapter 7
Garden
Don’t you ever shut up? Draco asked the voice, thoroughly annoyed. *Not really,* the voice purred. Draco growled and went into his room to get dressed. He grabbed a pair of loose black slacks, a blueish-gray, long-sleeved shirt, and a fresh pair of boxers. He pulled the clothes on slowly, taking his time so he could think.
Tuesday? That’s only three days away. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he began to slip on his socks and shoes. I wonder what he wants. Draco scoffed. He wants what he always wants. *Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it.* He finished putting on his shoes and lay down on his bed with a flop, his arms stretched out wide. For a few moments no world existed outside Draco’s room, Wizarding or other.
“If only the world really were as simple as my bedroom.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before getting up. Fighting the urge to just curl up under the blankets, Draco opened the door and headed downstairs. He made his way through the halls as he hummed to himself. Such a big house for a total of what, four people? he thought. He would be perfectly fine in a regular house. But there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, he wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to survive a less comfortable lifestyle, after all. Before he knew it he was in the kitchen. The small house-elf jumped and spun around when the door opened, a terrified look on his face.
“How can I help you, master?” he squeaked, bowing low. Draco felt bad for the creature as he watched him tremble.
“Just a sandwich, please.”
“Right away, sir.” The small house-elf began to quickly put together the sandwich, careful to make it just right. Draco watched as the small hands began with two pieces of bread and worked upward, the various ingredients floating in the air. Within a few moments the elf had finished the sandwich and turned, placing the plate in front of Draco.
“Thank you.” The elf looked at the blond incredulously, unused to the politeness. Draco picked up the sandwich and fiddled with it before finally taking a bite. He wasn’t particularly hungry; he had asked for the sandwich only so as not to have spooked the poor house-elf for no reason. He ate slowly, finishing nearly ten minutes later. When he was done he called the elf to come and take the plate.
He got up and began to wander the halls of the large mansion once again. This time he knew where he was going. He was headed for the one sanctuary he had in the palatial mansion that wasn’t his room. Tucked away behind the house lay a beautiful garden full of the loveliest flowers Draco had ever seen. It had been years since he had sat in those gardens. He could faintly recall the sweet summer scent of the snapdragons in bloom. Memories swirling through his mind, he came to the door that lead to the garden. He reached for the door knob, took a quick look around to make sure he was alone, and opened the door.
There before him was the large indoor garden he remembered from his childhood. Everything was the same. It seemed as if time in the greenhouse had frozen, awaiting his return; each flower looked exactly the same as it had when he had last seen it. He stepped into the room, pausing to inhale the heavy aroma of the blossoming flowers. The door shut with a soft click as Draco made his way forward, passing many different kinds of flowers. However, he only had one type of flower on his mind at the moment.
He continued through the greenhouse for several moments before he found them. In front of him was a patch of gardenias. They were his and his mother’s favorite, simple and white with a strong, sweet scent. *You know what else is simple? Potter.* Draco closed his eyes, annoyed. He refused to acknowledge the pestering voice. *You think Potter’s as good as you dreamt?* The blonde tried not to shout at the idiotic voice. Too bad you’ll never know. *We’ll just see about that,* the voice chortled. Draco rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the pleasant flowers that surrounded him. Unfortunately, the voice, being part of him, was a persistent little bugger. *Just admit it. You want Potter.*
Draco hung his head as his hopes of silencing the voice with the help of the plants was shattered like a delicate piece of glass on a cruel concrete surface. *Tsk, tsk. What would Viktor think?* He stood, not having noticed he’d sat in the first place, and walked further into the huge greenhouse, as though the vexatious voice were a person he could escape by simply walking fast enough in the opposite direction. The more he thought of escaping the aggravating voice, the quicker his steps became. He thought of escape from his father. From Malfoy Manor. From himself. Soon the plants and flowers were a blur of bright colors and greens as he ran along the narrow pathway that wound through the greenhouse.
The strange impulse to “get away” had taken over and Draco ran the fastest he could ever remember running in his entire life. Then, so quickly that he hardly knew what was happening, Draco’s sprint came to sudden halt as his foot caught on a raised block in the pathway. He crashed to the ground. He reached out in a vain attempt to catch himself and tangled his right arm in a nearby rosebush, the jagged thorns slashing his shirt and arm. The hard pathway was unforgiving as it collided with his head and knocked the wind from his lungs. Stars burst before his eyes and his head rattled from the impact. He lay there for a moment, light dancing across his vision. Just great, he thought as a comforting wave of darkness crashed upon the shore of his consciousness.
There you have it. Chapter 7. Whaddya think? As I've said in ch. 6, I've already started on the next chapter. Hopefully I’ll get it done pretty soon. Please review, they make me happy and productive. :D
“Maybe tonight we can forget about it all
It could be just like heaven
I am a machine
No longer living just a shell of what I dream.”
The Fantasy by 30 Seconds to Mars
Chapter 7
Garden
Don’t you ever shut up? Draco asked the voice, thoroughly annoyed. *Not really,* the voice purred. Draco growled and went into his room to get dressed. He grabbed a pair of loose black slacks, a blueish-gray, long-sleeved shirt, and a fresh pair of boxers. He pulled the clothes on slowly, taking his time so he could think.
Tuesday? That’s only three days away. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he began to slip on his socks and shoes. I wonder what he wants. Draco scoffed. He wants what he always wants. *Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it.* He finished putting on his shoes and lay down on his bed with a flop, his arms stretched out wide. For a few moments no world existed outside Draco’s room, Wizarding or other.
“If only the world really were as simple as my bedroom.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before getting up. Fighting the urge to just curl up under the blankets, Draco opened the door and headed downstairs. He made his way through the halls as he hummed to himself. Such a big house for a total of what, four people? he thought. He would be perfectly fine in a regular house. But there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, he wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to survive a less comfortable lifestyle, after all. Before he knew it he was in the kitchen. The small house-elf jumped and spun around when the door opened, a terrified look on his face.
“How can I help you, master?” he squeaked, bowing low. Draco felt bad for the creature as he watched him tremble.
“Just a sandwich, please.”
“Right away, sir.” The small house-elf began to quickly put together the sandwich, careful to make it just right. Draco watched as the small hands began with two pieces of bread and worked upward, the various ingredients floating in the air. Within a few moments the elf had finished the sandwich and turned, placing the plate in front of Draco.
“Thank you.” The elf looked at the blond incredulously, unused to the politeness. Draco picked up the sandwich and fiddled with it before finally taking a bite. He wasn’t particularly hungry; he had asked for the sandwich only so as not to have spooked the poor house-elf for no reason. He ate slowly, finishing nearly ten minutes later. When he was done he called the elf to come and take the plate.
He got up and began to wander the halls of the large mansion once again. This time he knew where he was going. He was headed for the one sanctuary he had in the palatial mansion that wasn’t his room. Tucked away behind the house lay a beautiful garden full of the loveliest flowers Draco had ever seen. It had been years since he had sat in those gardens. He could faintly recall the sweet summer scent of the snapdragons in bloom. Memories swirling through his mind, he came to the door that lead to the garden. He reached for the door knob, took a quick look around to make sure he was alone, and opened the door.
There before him was the large indoor garden he remembered from his childhood. Everything was the same. It seemed as if time in the greenhouse had frozen, awaiting his return; each flower looked exactly the same as it had when he had last seen it. He stepped into the room, pausing to inhale the heavy aroma of the blossoming flowers. The door shut with a soft click as Draco made his way forward, passing many different kinds of flowers. However, he only had one type of flower on his mind at the moment.
He continued through the greenhouse for several moments before he found them. In front of him was a patch of gardenias. They were his and his mother’s favorite, simple and white with a strong, sweet scent. *You know what else is simple? Potter.* Draco closed his eyes, annoyed. He refused to acknowledge the pestering voice. *You think Potter’s as good as you dreamt?* The blonde tried not to shout at the idiotic voice. Too bad you’ll never know. *We’ll just see about that,* the voice chortled. Draco rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the pleasant flowers that surrounded him. Unfortunately, the voice, being part of him, was a persistent little bugger. *Just admit it. You want Potter.*
Draco hung his head as his hopes of silencing the voice with the help of the plants was shattered like a delicate piece of glass on a cruel concrete surface. *Tsk, tsk. What would Viktor think?* He stood, not having noticed he’d sat in the first place, and walked further into the huge greenhouse, as though the vexatious voice were a person he could escape by simply walking fast enough in the opposite direction. The more he thought of escaping the aggravating voice, the quicker his steps became. He thought of escape from his father. From Malfoy Manor. From himself. Soon the plants and flowers were a blur of bright colors and greens as he ran along the narrow pathway that wound through the greenhouse.
The strange impulse to “get away” had taken over and Draco ran the fastest he could ever remember running in his entire life. Then, so quickly that he hardly knew what was happening, Draco’s sprint came to sudden halt as his foot caught on a raised block in the pathway. He crashed to the ground. He reached out in a vain attempt to catch himself and tangled his right arm in a nearby rosebush, the jagged thorns slashing his shirt and arm. The hard pathway was unforgiving as it collided with his head and knocked the wind from his lungs. Stars burst before his eyes and his head rattled from the impact. He lay there for a moment, light dancing across his vision. Just great, he thought as a comforting wave of darkness crashed upon the shore of his consciousness.
There you have it. Chapter 7. Whaddya think? As I've said in ch. 6, I've already started on the next chapter. Hopefully I’ll get it done pretty soon. Please review, they make me happy and productive. :D