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Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,403
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,403
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.
Helena
This story follows my understanding (or contrivance) of the themes in My Chemical Romance's "Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge". Clearly I own no part of their music and any lyrics posted belong to them, and I make no money from the use of their materials.
My album/fics follow a very specific patter: One chapter for every song, plus the summary, and possibly an additional author's note at the end. The beginning and end of each chapter features a few select lines from the song the chapter is based off of. These serve to set the mood of the progression of the story. This story is completely written, and is only awaiting edits. Therefore updates should be regular and relatively quick.
Summary:
Voldemort is dead, and Harry is ready for a real life. Draco, now free to be a human
being rather than a victim and follower of the Dark Lord, realizes that he has
feelings for a certain saviour of humanity.
We follow in the nineteen years between the end of chapter 36 and the epilogue.
Today’s Adventure is completely Deathly Hallows compliant in every way possible (including said epilogue), yet a Harry/Draco love story.
I also fear that the characters (specifically Draco) could be a touch OOC, a little too fluffy and angsty and weak, but then that's what unrequited love does to you :p
Warnings occur as story evolves. Some may change.
**What’s the worst that I could say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight**
-
Draco watched the celebration going on around him. He felt frighteningly out of place, but knew there was nothing he could do about it. He huddled next to his parents at one of the tables in the Great Hall, not even sure which one it was. Neither his mother nor his father spoke. They simply leaned against each other, quiet and unmoving. Draco was getting antsy. He was waiting for the seemingly inevitable moment when someone would turn to them, and announce that because they were sympathetic to the Dark Lord they were to be rounded up immediately to be sent to Azkaban. He was not looking forward to this. The longer it took to come, the more he dreaded the impact. Finally he disentangled himself from his mother’s grip, gave her an encouraging glance to show he wasn’t TOO
shook up (under the circumstances), and left the Hall. He was certain that his lack of presence would secure the protection of his parents from a mob of angry non-Slytherins. After all, it was because of HIM that Dumbledore died, because of HIM that everything went the way it did.
He leaned against a wall directly next to the doors inviting you into the Hall. Half hidden behind a statue’s pedestal (said statue was currently happily galloping around the Great Hall with a young Hufflepuff clinging to its shoulders) he slid down to the floor. He was simply exhausted. He was worrying about the future, and the heavy volume of unanswered questions discouraged him thoroughly. Certainly a good number of his father’s “friends” were dead. He had definitely lost at least one of his own. Who would even talk to them now? Who would help them to keep their good name once everything was back to a peaceful sense of normalcy? Who WOULDN’T look down on the Malfoy name for the next few generations? Needless to say, Draco was concerned over his reputation.
Lost in thought, he almost missed The Great Hero as he slipped out of the headmaster’s office with Ron and Hermione, and The Trio missed him as they parted ways. Ron and Hermione went into the Hall to be with friends and family, but for some reason Harry hung back. He stayed to watch all the people he cared about enjoying themselves, certain to stay up the night together relishing
the fact that they were all still alive and minus one Dark Lord. Harry, however, was not going to join them in their revelry. It was etched deeply into his features how utterly done-in he was. Watching him, Draco doubted if he would ever lose that look even if he managed to sleep the next three days in a row. He got the feeling that look would forever be a part of Harry.
In his ogling, Draco neglected to care for his position and leaned out from the wall, exposing himself to the other boy. Of course Harry noticed. Not even fatigue could dull his senses, especially so soon after the fight he’d just endured. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of half a Draco.
“Draco. How are you?”
Draco was shocked that he’d been noticed, and silently cursed that he’d given himself away.
“Don’t talk to me Potter. I don’t need your pity.”
The rebuff seemed weak. Harry had been expecting something callous. A Malfoy is a Malfoy, and Malfoys are proud creatures. He doubted much would change once everything had settled down.
“How is your mother? She seemed frightened in the forest.”
Harry felt quite indebted to Narcissa Malfoy and was sure he’d always hold a fondness for her, no matter what else he thought of the rest of the family and its practices.
“Of course she’s alright, how impertinent. Malfoys do not get frightened. She had nothing to worry about, anyhow. She was far away from any danger.”
Draco did not want to admit how little he believed this, and how afraid he himself was at that moment. Malfoys are proud creatures, and nothing was going to crack this façade.
“Draco, don’t you think that it’s time we gave up on this? There’s no reason to fight anymore. We’re no longer on opposite sides of anything, your father doesn’t hold any importance anymore… You’re not better than me, I think I’ve proved that I’m at least a decent wizard, if not a good person. Why can’t we start over, be friends?”
Draco had heard nothing after ‘Your father doesn’t hold any importance’, and instantly saw red. He was not going to have any part of his name tarnished, no matter if it was true or not.
“Potter, you’re a second rate wizard who got lucky. I’m not better than you? The people in power may not believe in the purity of blood any longer, but that doesn’t mean that everyone doesn’t. My blood is a thousand times purer than yours
and that will always put me on top!”
His eyes flashed, and his breath became quick. He was in a tizzy and he hated it. After everything that had happened, Potter was still as dense as ever. How could the two EVER be compared? In Draco’s eyes he would always be better. There was simply no way to question it. Harry just shook his head and made to walk away, but stopped. He paused half a second, seemingly to regain some control over his emotions.
“Draco, this is a new world. Voldemort is dead, and the entire wizarding world is celebrating. This is the chance we all need to change things. Make up with old enemies, make new friends... None of us have any reason to be afraid anymore.”
“’None of us’? What about my father? What about ME? You know as well as anybody what I’ve done, I’m probably first on the list for incarceration, Potter. Not everyone was on your side, remember?”
“Something tells me it won’t make a difference, Draco. You’re right. I DO know what you’ve done. What the both of you have done, but you forget… I know WHY you did it. I know that you had to, or die. Anybody would choose to save
their own life in face of that. You just don’t seem…”
Harry broke off as another wave of weariness washed over him. There was no point in arguing. He needed sleep and he needed it now. He thought again of Kreacher and a sandwich. Maybe he’d even forgo the sandwich at this point. Just
some fluffy bedding and he’d be out for a week, surely. Without saying anything more to the boy facing him, he turned and walked down the hallway toward his old bedroom for one last sleep before going off into society and being a grown-up. It was his one last night of childhood, if he hadn’t already given that up.
Draco wasn’t ready for Harry to turn away yet, and was surprised, if not a little hurt, that he wasn’t going to stay and keep arguing. He felt a loss, a strange emptiness. As if some part of him knew that he wouldn’t be seeing the raven beauty again, and lamented it.
Wait. ‘Raven Beauty’??
-
**Can you hear me
Are you near me
Can we pretend to leave and then
We’ll meet again, when both our cars collide**
My album/fics follow a very specific patter: One chapter for every song, plus the summary, and possibly an additional author's note at the end. The beginning and end of each chapter features a few select lines from the song the chapter is based off of. These serve to set the mood of the progression of the story. This story is completely written, and is only awaiting edits. Therefore updates should be regular and relatively quick.
Summary:
Voldemort is dead, and Harry is ready for a real life. Draco, now free to be a human
being rather than a victim and follower of the Dark Lord, realizes that he has
feelings for a certain saviour of humanity.
We follow in the nineteen years between the end of chapter 36 and the epilogue.
Today’s Adventure is completely Deathly Hallows compliant in every way possible (including said epilogue), yet a Harry/Draco love story.
I also fear that the characters (specifically Draco) could be a touch OOC, a little too fluffy and angsty and weak, but then that's what unrequited love does to you :p
Warnings occur as story evolves. Some may change.
**What’s the worst that I could say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight**
-
Draco watched the celebration going on around him. He felt frighteningly out of place, but knew there was nothing he could do about it. He huddled next to his parents at one of the tables in the Great Hall, not even sure which one it was. Neither his mother nor his father spoke. They simply leaned against each other, quiet and unmoving. Draco was getting antsy. He was waiting for the seemingly inevitable moment when someone would turn to them, and announce that because they were sympathetic to the Dark Lord they were to be rounded up immediately to be sent to Azkaban. He was not looking forward to this. The longer it took to come, the more he dreaded the impact. Finally he disentangled himself from his mother’s grip, gave her an encouraging glance to show he wasn’t TOO
shook up (under the circumstances), and left the Hall. He was certain that his lack of presence would secure the protection of his parents from a mob of angry non-Slytherins. After all, it was because of HIM that Dumbledore died, because of HIM that everything went the way it did.
He leaned against a wall directly next to the doors inviting you into the Hall. Half hidden behind a statue’s pedestal (said statue was currently happily galloping around the Great Hall with a young Hufflepuff clinging to its shoulders) he slid down to the floor. He was simply exhausted. He was worrying about the future, and the heavy volume of unanswered questions discouraged him thoroughly. Certainly a good number of his father’s “friends” were dead. He had definitely lost at least one of his own. Who would even talk to them now? Who would help them to keep their good name once everything was back to a peaceful sense of normalcy? Who WOULDN’T look down on the Malfoy name for the next few generations? Needless to say, Draco was concerned over his reputation.
Lost in thought, he almost missed The Great Hero as he slipped out of the headmaster’s office with Ron and Hermione, and The Trio missed him as they parted ways. Ron and Hermione went into the Hall to be with friends and family, but for some reason Harry hung back. He stayed to watch all the people he cared about enjoying themselves, certain to stay up the night together relishing
the fact that they were all still alive and minus one Dark Lord. Harry, however, was not going to join them in their revelry. It was etched deeply into his features how utterly done-in he was. Watching him, Draco doubted if he would ever lose that look even if he managed to sleep the next three days in a row. He got the feeling that look would forever be a part of Harry.
In his ogling, Draco neglected to care for his position and leaned out from the wall, exposing himself to the other boy. Of course Harry noticed. Not even fatigue could dull his senses, especially so soon after the fight he’d just endured. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of half a Draco.
“Draco. How are you?”
Draco was shocked that he’d been noticed, and silently cursed that he’d given himself away.
“Don’t talk to me Potter. I don’t need your pity.”
The rebuff seemed weak. Harry had been expecting something callous. A Malfoy is a Malfoy, and Malfoys are proud creatures. He doubted much would change once everything had settled down.
“How is your mother? She seemed frightened in the forest.”
Harry felt quite indebted to Narcissa Malfoy and was sure he’d always hold a fondness for her, no matter what else he thought of the rest of the family and its practices.
“Of course she’s alright, how impertinent. Malfoys do not get frightened. She had nothing to worry about, anyhow. She was far away from any danger.”
Draco did not want to admit how little he believed this, and how afraid he himself was at that moment. Malfoys are proud creatures, and nothing was going to crack this façade.
“Draco, don’t you think that it’s time we gave up on this? There’s no reason to fight anymore. We’re no longer on opposite sides of anything, your father doesn’t hold any importance anymore… You’re not better than me, I think I’ve proved that I’m at least a decent wizard, if not a good person. Why can’t we start over, be friends?”
Draco had heard nothing after ‘Your father doesn’t hold any importance’, and instantly saw red. He was not going to have any part of his name tarnished, no matter if it was true or not.
“Potter, you’re a second rate wizard who got lucky. I’m not better than you? The people in power may not believe in the purity of blood any longer, but that doesn’t mean that everyone doesn’t. My blood is a thousand times purer than yours
and that will always put me on top!”
His eyes flashed, and his breath became quick. He was in a tizzy and he hated it. After everything that had happened, Potter was still as dense as ever. How could the two EVER be compared? In Draco’s eyes he would always be better. There was simply no way to question it. Harry just shook his head and made to walk away, but stopped. He paused half a second, seemingly to regain some control over his emotions.
“Draco, this is a new world. Voldemort is dead, and the entire wizarding world is celebrating. This is the chance we all need to change things. Make up with old enemies, make new friends... None of us have any reason to be afraid anymore.”
“’None of us’? What about my father? What about ME? You know as well as anybody what I’ve done, I’m probably first on the list for incarceration, Potter. Not everyone was on your side, remember?”
“Something tells me it won’t make a difference, Draco. You’re right. I DO know what you’ve done. What the both of you have done, but you forget… I know WHY you did it. I know that you had to, or die. Anybody would choose to save
their own life in face of that. You just don’t seem…”
Harry broke off as another wave of weariness washed over him. There was no point in arguing. He needed sleep and he needed it now. He thought again of Kreacher and a sandwich. Maybe he’d even forgo the sandwich at this point. Just
some fluffy bedding and he’d be out for a week, surely. Without saying anything more to the boy facing him, he turned and walked down the hallway toward his old bedroom for one last sleep before going off into society and being a grown-up. It was his one last night of childhood, if he hadn’t already given that up.
Draco wasn’t ready for Harry to turn away yet, and was surprised, if not a little hurt, that he wasn’t going to stay and keep arguing. He felt a loss, a strange emptiness. As if some part of him knew that he wouldn’t be seeing the raven beauty again, and lamented it.
Wait. ‘Raven Beauty’??
-
**Can you hear me
Are you near me
Can we pretend to leave and then
We’ll meet again, when both our cars collide**