Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,411
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,411
Reviews:
41
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.
Interlude
**Since we talked alone…
Come angels of unknown…
Come angels of unknown…**
--
Harry’s eyes blinked reluctantly open, a bright line of sunlight slipping between the curtains. He turned his head to the left, and saw a beautiful sight: Ginny curled in the comforter, snuggled deep against the pillow. He smiled when he remembered how the previous evening had ended. He had softly made love to Ginny, attempting to make up for any transgressions. He had wanted to make things better, and he honestly believed he had.
He rolled to the right, gently shifting and placing his feet on the warm floor, softly walking around the bed the two had shared into the bathroom. He reached for the faucet, turning until the sink filled with hot water. He dipped his hands into the heat, pausing, relishing the sensation. Finally he lifted his hands to his face splashing, soaking. He breathed in deeply, and opened his eyes to his reflection.
He took in his rumpled hair, mussed from the bed. His scar stood out between a shock of fringe, and his green eyes seemed to glow. He ran his fingers down his face, down his neck, over his clavicles, resting on his shoulders. He suddenly felt that he needed to touch them. Rolling his shoulders, half-delighting in the pops and snaps that echoed between the tiles, he sat on the commode and bent over to rest his head in his hands again. He breathed deeply, simply taking in the silence ringing through his skull.
Had he done something wrong?
He couldn’t shake a distinct queasy feeling settling deep into the pit of his stomach. He thought that surely after Ginny was safely back home, and everything was fine between them, he would be happy again.
But was he ever really happy, before?
The pangs of guilt were getting worse, and he felt as if he were about to break into a cold sweat. Taking in breaths as deep as he thought he could, he sat up straight, willing his chest to calm. He got up, and instead of pacing the room he stalked through the bedroom, past Ginny’s still-sleeping form. Through the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen before he knew what he was doing, he found himself facing an empty liquor shelf. It was a good thing it was empty, else he surely would have grabbed a bottle without thinking.
As he was deciding to go back upstairs and try to sleep through the anxiety building in his body, he heard a sharp peck at the window above the china cabinet. His eyes snapped abruptly to the area, certain he’d seen a flash of white.
However there was no owl there; in fact there was nothing there.
And only one word was on Harry’s thoughts.
Draco.
Come angels of unknown…
Come angels of unknown…**
--
Harry’s eyes blinked reluctantly open, a bright line of sunlight slipping between the curtains. He turned his head to the left, and saw a beautiful sight: Ginny curled in the comforter, snuggled deep against the pillow. He smiled when he remembered how the previous evening had ended. He had softly made love to Ginny, attempting to make up for any transgressions. He had wanted to make things better, and he honestly believed he had.
He rolled to the right, gently shifting and placing his feet on the warm floor, softly walking around the bed the two had shared into the bathroom. He reached for the faucet, turning until the sink filled with hot water. He dipped his hands into the heat, pausing, relishing the sensation. Finally he lifted his hands to his face splashing, soaking. He breathed in deeply, and opened his eyes to his reflection.
He took in his rumpled hair, mussed from the bed. His scar stood out between a shock of fringe, and his green eyes seemed to glow. He ran his fingers down his face, down his neck, over his clavicles, resting on his shoulders. He suddenly felt that he needed to touch them. Rolling his shoulders, half-delighting in the pops and snaps that echoed between the tiles, he sat on the commode and bent over to rest his head in his hands again. He breathed deeply, simply taking in the silence ringing through his skull.
Had he done something wrong?
He couldn’t shake a distinct queasy feeling settling deep into the pit of his stomach. He thought that surely after Ginny was safely back home, and everything was fine between them, he would be happy again.
But was he ever really happy, before?
The pangs of guilt were getting worse, and he felt as if he were about to break into a cold sweat. Taking in breaths as deep as he thought he could, he sat up straight, willing his chest to calm. He got up, and instead of pacing the room he stalked through the bedroom, past Ginny’s still-sleeping form. Through the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen before he knew what he was doing, he found himself facing an empty liquor shelf. It was a good thing it was empty, else he surely would have grabbed a bottle without thinking.
As he was deciding to go back upstairs and try to sleep through the anxiety building in his body, he heard a sharp peck at the window above the china cabinet. His eyes snapped abruptly to the area, certain he’d seen a flash of white.
However there was no owl there; in fact there was nothing there.
And only one word was on Harry’s thoughts.
Draco.