It's Been Awhile
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Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
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Adult +
Chapters:
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2,648
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,648
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I don't own the Harry Potter universe. Jo Rowling and associates do. I make no money from this
It's Been Awhile
Title: It's Been Awhile
Category: Slash, songfic, waff
Song: It's Been Awhile by Staind. (They own the lyrics, I don't.)
Pair: HP/DM mention of BZ/SF
Summary: Three silent words tore them apart, and only two vocal ones can bring them back together.
*~*~*~*
It had been months; how many, Draco couldn't fathom. To him it seemed like years. Years since that previous summer after the Dark Lord's defeat. Years since he'd last felt the touch of warm, calloused hands. Years since he had heard ragged breathing atop him, panting out his name. Years since he felt loved and accepted despite all his transgressions.
One night, a week before the start of term to his "8th" year at Hogwarts, everything he had hoped for all came crashing down around his shocked and bewildered blonde head. A few angry words between two young adults later, he was unceremoniously dropped at the Manor, those self-same words ringing in his ears:
"I don't play for fun. I play for keeps. This has all been a game to you, hasn't it, Draco? Well guess what? You won."
Presently Draco sat by the lakeside that bordered Hogwarts, the sharp, chill wind blowing his loose, long blonde hair out behind him and biting at his pale face until it was rosy with a cold glow. He hadn't heard a single word directed at him from his one time lover since that day. Their time together was kept secret from many, as secret as Draco's unwilling emotions, buried deep. Too deep to admit to his former flame, which was what drove them apart.
Three words.
And two words were what was needed now to unlock those three, the key to what he felt for the dark haired boy. Felt. Still feels. Would always feel, after that summer. It was hard enough to come to internal terms with those feelings. No, he wasn't cold. But to express any positive feelings towards another person was beaten (not literally of course) out of him. It was improper. Un-Malfoy. But there was no denying that he felt what he did. He just couldn't say it. As long as he didn't say those three, terrifying but beautiful, words, he was master of himself. Of his pride. His damned pride that cost him so dearly.
He bent over his drawn up knees and started to write on the wind-fluttered parchment, the light dying in the late fall sky.
'It's been awhile...'
*~*~*~*
"Blaise, isn't next weekend the first Hogsmeade visit?"
"Yes, Draco. Why?" Came the even reply.
"Get that Gryffindor boytoy of yours, and Nott together. I think it's time we graced The Three Broomsticks with our secret musical group." Draco replied quietly, handing over three parchments, copied from his original that he finished writing the night before by the lakeside.
"I've translated it all to tabs for Nott and Finnegan, and your drums are there too. Oh, and make sure Finnegan doesn't breathe a word of this to anyone..." Draco hissed, face set in a hard mask.
"Even to your little hero lover?" Blaise asked slyly.
"Ex-lover. And yes, especially to him."
Blaise scanned the parchment's words, bypassing the music. His eyes widened line by line.
"Do you realize what this says?" The Slytherin asked the blonde. Draco took it as a rhetoric question and only answered with a raised, aristocratic brow.
*~*~*~*
Over the next week, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Seamus Finnegan and Draco Malfoy took every free period to practice the one song, learning their music and Draco going over his lyrics. Once Blaise owled Madam Rosmerta and got approved for the performance, flyers were blanketed over Hogwarts, inviting all allowed to Hogsmeade to attend.
Although the little group knew roughly what the lyrics meant, all but Blaise had no idea of the story behind it, or the surprises Draco planned to unleash. Long, sleepless nights, and many bittersweet memories fueled his drive to make the fast approaching weekend one to shock. And hopefully, one to forgive.
*~*~*~*
It was dark inside the pub from the bright late afternoon sun. The normally cheery atmosphere inside was replaced with curiosity and a faint excitement. It wasn't often students shared their musical talents. Very few in attendance, that is to say nearly all seventh and "eighth" year students, knew there was even a band or who the members were.
At Seamus' prompting, Harry arrived with Ron and Hermione, and made their way to where Seamus proclaimed was "the perfect place to achieve full effect", unknowingly placing Harry exactly where Draco wanted him to be; before center stage. Harry had a strong suspicion that Seamus was part of this little musical group, but held off from asking about it out of obvious respect to privacy. There was probably a reason why nobody knew there was a band and who was in it.
Moments after he settled in the standing room only area, an opaque privacy ward was erected, effectively blocking out the band as they set up. A few minutes ticked by before the rest of the remaining light in the pub was extinguished and the privacy ward lowered to reveal an equally black stage, punctuated by blacker figures. One strode forwards before sitting on the edge of the stage, the outline of an acoustic electric guitar clearly seen.
Harry felt a tremor run through him. He knew that stride. He knew that slender shadow. He was proven correct when balls of colored fire erupted around the sitting student. Red mingled with silver, green interspersed with gold. Had anyone taken note of the strange combinations, or the way the silver eyed boy stared at their hero, nobody made mention of it. The fireballs floated in a serene dance around Draco, throwing his person into sharp relief of shadow and colored light.
He raised a pale hand and began to strum an opening bar, accompanied by a newly Lumos lit Nott. Their guitars voices met and mingled before a soft crack was heard. Glossy parchments floated down around the students, each one taking a page, or sharing with a neighbor. Harry snatched one from the air absently, seeker reflexes in play. One glace at the paper sent his heart beating hard, and his eyes sought out Draco's in question. Across the top of the paper was an image of Harry and Draco, sitting together in an alcove, the light filtering through to illuminate two comfortable and happy young men before flickering to another private memory.
Draco opened his mouth, singing softly after Blaise gave his cue with a few beats to his Toms before striking his crash cymbals.
"And it's been awhile, since I could hold my head up high. And it's been awhile since I first saw you..."
Draco's solid voice rolled around the room, flowing across ears and hearts alike. Pages all around the room flickered with a new memory: an eleven year old Harry climbing onto a fitting stool next to an equally young Draco Malfoy in Madam Malkin's. Slowly, eyes turned to stare at their saviour in confusion before returning to Draco, the next verse promptly on his lips.
"And it's been awhile since I could stand on my own two feet again, and it's been awhile since I could hold you."
A few strikes on Blaise's floor Tom and cymbal later, Finnegan picked up the bass beat while Nott ripped out a heavy riff. Pages flickered again to show the two young adults meeting for the first time after the war, not as rivals and contenders in a bloody battle, but as tentative friends clasping hands.
The words and the meaning behind them were slowly sinking into those around, but the Slytherin and Gryffindor only had eyes for each other. The floating fireballs danced around Draco, playing with shadows across his pained and saddened face.
"And everything I can't remember,
As fucked up as it all may seem-
The consequences that I've rendered,
I've stretched myself beyond my means."
Again the crowd looked down at the parchments that showed Draco's memories. Silently it showed a younger pair of men, Draco brandishing his Mark to Harry in the girls' lavatory and the resulting duel, ending with the spread of Draco's blood in the pooling water. Gasps echoed into Draco's next verse.
"And it's been awhile since I can say that I wasn't addicted, and it's been awhile since I can say I loved myself as well."
During the verse the papers flashed to an image of Draco, older than any other, but younger than his current age. He panted silently through his tears as he drew a silver blade down that same Mark, blood chasing the glinting tool. A flash again and there the memory-Harry, rushing to the distraught boy and ripping the blade from his shaking hand before tugging him into a fierce hug, rocking back and forth.
"And it's been awhile since I've gone and fucked things up just like I always do, and it's been awhile... But all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you."
Memory-Harry pulled away from memory-Draco, waving his wand to heal the deep wound and vanish the dripping blood. Memory-Harry's mouth was moving in a silent rebuke of the memory-Draco's actions before pulling him into a crushing hug again, tears in his own eyes and jaw clenched in a futile attempt to keep them at bay. Had anyone looked up to the current pair, they'd have seen a similar sight, Draco silently crying and Harry trying with futile attempts to stem his own liquid pain. Their eyes remained locked, shared memory reflected in their shimmering depths.
"And everything I can't remember, as fucked up as it all may seem. The consequences that I've rendered-
I've gone and fucked things up again... Why must I feel this way? Just make this go away. Just one more peaceful day!"
The memory shifted once again, amid begrudged sniffles from random points in the audience. Draco's face peered up, shock and anguish plain on his face during the argument that ended with Harry dissolving their secret friendship and leaving the blonde at the Manor. Nobody knew what words were exchanged or the emotion behind them. The next few lines cleared up any confusion and dawned a deep realization into many students' minds. This wasn't a secret friendship...And the memory pictures confirmed it. It was a secret affair.
"And it's been awhile since I could look at myself straight. And it's been awhile since I said I'm sorry. And it's been awhile since I've seen the way the candles light your face... And it's been awhile but I can still remember just the way you taste..."
A memory within a memory filtered onto the enchanted parchment, the image depicting the very same two young men as all the previous, lit by the same candles that came into magical existence around Harry as if cued by the lyrics, as the memory-couple were lit by.
Real-Harry looked down at the memory, his own matching every detail; viewed from the side, one could see the passionately kissing boys, only revealing bare chests pressed tightly together, raven hair atop long, glinting blonde. The viewers didn't have to hear the moans or see lower than the revealed torsos to know that the pair were engaged in the most intimate and beautiful embrace. Each person who gazed at the gentle, loving, and slow rocking of the two could feel the ghost of the emotions that wove between the once-rivals, and belied any remaining innocence.
A collective gasp was elicited from the crowd as they were graced with the sight of their hero, lovingly drawing out an orgasm from Draco, bliss and love radiating off the glowing Malfoy's face as the memory-Draco looked up at the memory-Harry.
"And everything I can't remember, as fucked up as it all may seem to be, I know it's me... I cannot blame this on you either, you did the best you could for me."
Draco sang, slipping off the stage after placing his guitar against the front panel. He stood before Harry, the rest of the band falling quiet to allow Draco's natural talent to close out the song. The parchments crumpled to dust, having served their duty, but nobody noticed. All attention was on the newly outed students.
"And it's been awhile since I could hold my head up high. And it's been awhile since I said..." He sang before bowing his head slightly.
"I'm sorry, Harry." Draco finished, unable to meet the Gryffindor's eyes any further. The silence after his words stretched on for long seconds before a small smile tugged at Harry's lips.
"But you won the game, Draco." He finally said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
"No. I lost. I lost everything." Draco replied, shaking his head.
"Then what do you need to do to win, Malfoy?" Harry spat, his voice hard with anger and pain.
"I need to be honest."
"Honest about what?"
"How I feel." Draco answered quietly, bowing his head lower.
"And how do you feel?" Harry asked softly, a sad, defeated frown taking over his mouth. Everyone waited for Draco to answer. After everything he had done and said in the last five minutes, he couldn't admit how he felt? Suddenly Draco lifted his face to stare into Harry's, eyes blazing with intensity.
"I love you!" He replied clearly, no longer any trace of fear or Malfoy pride. A dam broke inside Draco, knowledge that he did love the Gryffindor git, and nobody would Crucio him for it. He was still a Malfoy. He had, if possible, more to be proud of in gaining Harry's love in the first place, than any he could lose by admitting he loved the savior back.
"Damn it, I love you Harry!" He repeated. The crowd held a bated breath and looked to Harry for his response. It came, not with words, but an outstretched, Quidditch-calloused hand that wrapped around the back of Draco's neck momentarily before dragging him roughly into a fiery, fierce kiss that elicited wild and excited cheers from their surrounding peers.
~ finite
A/N: yes, I know I have a chapter to write for Hero...but that muse has taken a leave of absence without first checking with me. Be patient! And review! I'm quite happy with this little oneshot, moreso than Paralyzer, my other oneshot songfic. And yes, I'm aware the lyrics were twisted slightly. All to better fit the fic. Enjoy.
DISC: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER. IF I DID I WOULDN'T BE HERE PINING AFTER DRARRY!
Category: Slash, songfic, waff
Song: It's Been Awhile by Staind. (They own the lyrics, I don't.)
Pair: HP/DM mention of BZ/SF
Summary: Three silent words tore them apart, and only two vocal ones can bring them back together.
*~*~*~*
It had been months; how many, Draco couldn't fathom. To him it seemed like years. Years since that previous summer after the Dark Lord's defeat. Years since he'd last felt the touch of warm, calloused hands. Years since he had heard ragged breathing atop him, panting out his name. Years since he felt loved and accepted despite all his transgressions.
One night, a week before the start of term to his "8th" year at Hogwarts, everything he had hoped for all came crashing down around his shocked and bewildered blonde head. A few angry words between two young adults later, he was unceremoniously dropped at the Manor, those self-same words ringing in his ears:
"I don't play for fun. I play for keeps. This has all been a game to you, hasn't it, Draco? Well guess what? You won."
Presently Draco sat by the lakeside that bordered Hogwarts, the sharp, chill wind blowing his loose, long blonde hair out behind him and biting at his pale face until it was rosy with a cold glow. He hadn't heard a single word directed at him from his one time lover since that day. Their time together was kept secret from many, as secret as Draco's unwilling emotions, buried deep. Too deep to admit to his former flame, which was what drove them apart.
Three words.
And two words were what was needed now to unlock those three, the key to what he felt for the dark haired boy. Felt. Still feels. Would always feel, after that summer. It was hard enough to come to internal terms with those feelings. No, he wasn't cold. But to express any positive feelings towards another person was beaten (not literally of course) out of him. It was improper. Un-Malfoy. But there was no denying that he felt what he did. He just couldn't say it. As long as he didn't say those three, terrifying but beautiful, words, he was master of himself. Of his pride. His damned pride that cost him so dearly.
He bent over his drawn up knees and started to write on the wind-fluttered parchment, the light dying in the late fall sky.
'It's been awhile...'
*~*~*~*
"Blaise, isn't next weekend the first Hogsmeade visit?"
"Yes, Draco. Why?" Came the even reply.
"Get that Gryffindor boytoy of yours, and Nott together. I think it's time we graced The Three Broomsticks with our secret musical group." Draco replied quietly, handing over three parchments, copied from his original that he finished writing the night before by the lakeside.
"I've translated it all to tabs for Nott and Finnegan, and your drums are there too. Oh, and make sure Finnegan doesn't breathe a word of this to anyone..." Draco hissed, face set in a hard mask.
"Even to your little hero lover?" Blaise asked slyly.
"Ex-lover. And yes, especially to him."
Blaise scanned the parchment's words, bypassing the music. His eyes widened line by line.
"Do you realize what this says?" The Slytherin asked the blonde. Draco took it as a rhetoric question and only answered with a raised, aristocratic brow.
*~*~*~*
Over the next week, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Seamus Finnegan and Draco Malfoy took every free period to practice the one song, learning their music and Draco going over his lyrics. Once Blaise owled Madam Rosmerta and got approved for the performance, flyers were blanketed over Hogwarts, inviting all allowed to Hogsmeade to attend.
Although the little group knew roughly what the lyrics meant, all but Blaise had no idea of the story behind it, or the surprises Draco planned to unleash. Long, sleepless nights, and many bittersweet memories fueled his drive to make the fast approaching weekend one to shock. And hopefully, one to forgive.
*~*~*~*
It was dark inside the pub from the bright late afternoon sun. The normally cheery atmosphere inside was replaced with curiosity and a faint excitement. It wasn't often students shared their musical talents. Very few in attendance, that is to say nearly all seventh and "eighth" year students, knew there was even a band or who the members were.
At Seamus' prompting, Harry arrived with Ron and Hermione, and made their way to where Seamus proclaimed was "the perfect place to achieve full effect", unknowingly placing Harry exactly where Draco wanted him to be; before center stage. Harry had a strong suspicion that Seamus was part of this little musical group, but held off from asking about it out of obvious respect to privacy. There was probably a reason why nobody knew there was a band and who was in it.
Moments after he settled in the standing room only area, an opaque privacy ward was erected, effectively blocking out the band as they set up. A few minutes ticked by before the rest of the remaining light in the pub was extinguished and the privacy ward lowered to reveal an equally black stage, punctuated by blacker figures. One strode forwards before sitting on the edge of the stage, the outline of an acoustic electric guitar clearly seen.
Harry felt a tremor run through him. He knew that stride. He knew that slender shadow. He was proven correct when balls of colored fire erupted around the sitting student. Red mingled with silver, green interspersed with gold. Had anyone taken note of the strange combinations, or the way the silver eyed boy stared at their hero, nobody made mention of it. The fireballs floated in a serene dance around Draco, throwing his person into sharp relief of shadow and colored light.
He raised a pale hand and began to strum an opening bar, accompanied by a newly Lumos lit Nott. Their guitars voices met and mingled before a soft crack was heard. Glossy parchments floated down around the students, each one taking a page, or sharing with a neighbor. Harry snatched one from the air absently, seeker reflexes in play. One glace at the paper sent his heart beating hard, and his eyes sought out Draco's in question. Across the top of the paper was an image of Harry and Draco, sitting together in an alcove, the light filtering through to illuminate two comfortable and happy young men before flickering to another private memory.
Draco opened his mouth, singing softly after Blaise gave his cue with a few beats to his Toms before striking his crash cymbals.
"And it's been awhile, since I could hold my head up high. And it's been awhile since I first saw you..."
Draco's solid voice rolled around the room, flowing across ears and hearts alike. Pages all around the room flickered with a new memory: an eleven year old Harry climbing onto a fitting stool next to an equally young Draco Malfoy in Madam Malkin's. Slowly, eyes turned to stare at their saviour in confusion before returning to Draco, the next verse promptly on his lips.
"And it's been awhile since I could stand on my own two feet again, and it's been awhile since I could hold you."
A few strikes on Blaise's floor Tom and cymbal later, Finnegan picked up the bass beat while Nott ripped out a heavy riff. Pages flickered again to show the two young adults meeting for the first time after the war, not as rivals and contenders in a bloody battle, but as tentative friends clasping hands.
The words and the meaning behind them were slowly sinking into those around, but the Slytherin and Gryffindor only had eyes for each other. The floating fireballs danced around Draco, playing with shadows across his pained and saddened face.
"And everything I can't remember,
As fucked up as it all may seem-
The consequences that I've rendered,
I've stretched myself beyond my means."
Again the crowd looked down at the parchments that showed Draco's memories. Silently it showed a younger pair of men, Draco brandishing his Mark to Harry in the girls' lavatory and the resulting duel, ending with the spread of Draco's blood in the pooling water. Gasps echoed into Draco's next verse.
"And it's been awhile since I can say that I wasn't addicted, and it's been awhile since I can say I loved myself as well."
During the verse the papers flashed to an image of Draco, older than any other, but younger than his current age. He panted silently through his tears as he drew a silver blade down that same Mark, blood chasing the glinting tool. A flash again and there the memory-Harry, rushing to the distraught boy and ripping the blade from his shaking hand before tugging him into a fierce hug, rocking back and forth.
"And it's been awhile since I've gone and fucked things up just like I always do, and it's been awhile... But all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you."
Memory-Harry pulled away from memory-Draco, waving his wand to heal the deep wound and vanish the dripping blood. Memory-Harry's mouth was moving in a silent rebuke of the memory-Draco's actions before pulling him into a crushing hug again, tears in his own eyes and jaw clenched in a futile attempt to keep them at bay. Had anyone looked up to the current pair, they'd have seen a similar sight, Draco silently crying and Harry trying with futile attempts to stem his own liquid pain. Their eyes remained locked, shared memory reflected in their shimmering depths.
"And everything I can't remember, as fucked up as it all may seem. The consequences that I've rendered-
I've gone and fucked things up again... Why must I feel this way? Just make this go away. Just one more peaceful day!"
The memory shifted once again, amid begrudged sniffles from random points in the audience. Draco's face peered up, shock and anguish plain on his face during the argument that ended with Harry dissolving their secret friendship and leaving the blonde at the Manor. Nobody knew what words were exchanged or the emotion behind them. The next few lines cleared up any confusion and dawned a deep realization into many students' minds. This wasn't a secret friendship...And the memory pictures confirmed it. It was a secret affair.
"And it's been awhile since I could look at myself straight. And it's been awhile since I said I'm sorry. And it's been awhile since I've seen the way the candles light your face... And it's been awhile but I can still remember just the way you taste..."
A memory within a memory filtered onto the enchanted parchment, the image depicting the very same two young men as all the previous, lit by the same candles that came into magical existence around Harry as if cued by the lyrics, as the memory-couple were lit by.
Real-Harry looked down at the memory, his own matching every detail; viewed from the side, one could see the passionately kissing boys, only revealing bare chests pressed tightly together, raven hair atop long, glinting blonde. The viewers didn't have to hear the moans or see lower than the revealed torsos to know that the pair were engaged in the most intimate and beautiful embrace. Each person who gazed at the gentle, loving, and slow rocking of the two could feel the ghost of the emotions that wove between the once-rivals, and belied any remaining innocence.
A collective gasp was elicited from the crowd as they were graced with the sight of their hero, lovingly drawing out an orgasm from Draco, bliss and love radiating off the glowing Malfoy's face as the memory-Draco looked up at the memory-Harry.
"And everything I can't remember, as fucked up as it all may seem to be, I know it's me... I cannot blame this on you either, you did the best you could for me."
Draco sang, slipping off the stage after placing his guitar against the front panel. He stood before Harry, the rest of the band falling quiet to allow Draco's natural talent to close out the song. The parchments crumpled to dust, having served their duty, but nobody noticed. All attention was on the newly outed students.
"And it's been awhile since I could hold my head up high. And it's been awhile since I said..." He sang before bowing his head slightly.
"I'm sorry, Harry." Draco finished, unable to meet the Gryffindor's eyes any further. The silence after his words stretched on for long seconds before a small smile tugged at Harry's lips.
"But you won the game, Draco." He finally said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
"No. I lost. I lost everything." Draco replied, shaking his head.
"Then what do you need to do to win, Malfoy?" Harry spat, his voice hard with anger and pain.
"I need to be honest."
"Honest about what?"
"How I feel." Draco answered quietly, bowing his head lower.
"And how do you feel?" Harry asked softly, a sad, defeated frown taking over his mouth. Everyone waited for Draco to answer. After everything he had done and said in the last five minutes, he couldn't admit how he felt? Suddenly Draco lifted his face to stare into Harry's, eyes blazing with intensity.
"I love you!" He replied clearly, no longer any trace of fear or Malfoy pride. A dam broke inside Draco, knowledge that he did love the Gryffindor git, and nobody would Crucio him for it. He was still a Malfoy. He had, if possible, more to be proud of in gaining Harry's love in the first place, than any he could lose by admitting he loved the savior back.
"Damn it, I love you Harry!" He repeated. The crowd held a bated breath and looked to Harry for his response. It came, not with words, but an outstretched, Quidditch-calloused hand that wrapped around the back of Draco's neck momentarily before dragging him roughly into a fiery, fierce kiss that elicited wild and excited cheers from their surrounding peers.
~ finite
A/N: yes, I know I have a chapter to write for Hero...but that muse has taken a leave of absence without first checking with me. Be patient! And review! I'm quite happy with this little oneshot, moreso than Paralyzer, my other oneshot songfic. And yes, I'm aware the lyrics were twisted slightly. All to better fit the fic. Enjoy.
DISC: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER. IF I DID I WOULDN'T BE HERE PINING AFTER DRARRY!