Title: Summer to Autumn
Author: Karabou
(akirabou@yahoo.com)
Summary: War is hell.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers
including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made
and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: This is my first posted HD fic. I was content with being a lurker, and hadn't planned
on writing for the seasonal fic challenge, mainly and simply because I don't write! But
last night this bit of H/D popped into my head, and so I decided to
write it out. This is my first fic, and will most likely be my last. I
have a funny writing style sometimes.. so expect things like fragment
sentences. I suppose this would be 5th year. Ah... and.. not much else
to comment on. Read at your own risk. :)
It was a bitter cold autumn day; the sky was a mass of gray clouds.
The wind stung Harry's face as he walked away from Hogwarts, the
weather mirroring how he felt. The sound of dry, dead leaves
crunching under his shoes seemed magnified somehow in the empty
grounds. It was close to noon, and most students were inside and in
class. Harry and Ron had a free hour between classes and were
supposed to be studying last minute for a test, but instead of going
to the library he found himself wandering outside. He just couldn't
concentrate. Nothing seemed to matter lately. Nothing... except
Draco.
A few months ago, right in the middle of summer, Harry had been
walking a worn path to the lake. It was a cloudless, hot day, but a
gentle breeze helped with the heat. Harry's thoughts on his last
Quidditch game were interrupted as he noticed a familiar blonde haired
boy sitting with his back to a large rock, staring out across the
water. He wanted to leave, to turn around before one of their usual
arguments started, but he couldn't. He felt strangely rooted to the
spot, and a moment later he realized why. Draco looked... sad,
almost. He looked introspective, troubled. Harry had never seen him
like this. Draco's usual expressions were smug... anger... smirking
triumph. His facial expressions always had a certain harshness to
them. Harry had never seen him look quite so relaxed. He looked
human. Harry's reverie was broken as Draco looked up and straight
into his eyes. His once soft expression hardened, his gray eyes
resuming their cold glare. The usual exchange of insults followed
until Harry turned and walked away, disgusted. What had he been doing
staring at Malfoy like that and thinking there was even a shred of
decency in him?
As Harry walked he hardly noticed the sound of leaves under his shoes,
or the chill wind blowing against his uncovered skin. Instead he
thought back to the last few months, they had passed in a blur. He
couldn't remember an exact moment when he knew they had come to a sort
of understanding. When they started enjoying each other?s company.
And their friendship was fragile, tenuous at best. It started small,
as most things do, and grew with each day. It began when Harry
thought to himself that there must be more to Draco than the insults.
Than his Slytherin attitude. Than his family. In fact, the more
Harry thought about it, the more Draco seemed lonely. Except at meal
times Harry only ever saw Draco with Crabbe and Goyle. And, he
thought, it must be terribly hard to hold an actual conversation with
those two. He also doubted Draco had a warm relationship with his
family. He could commiserate with him in that aspect. And so Harry
decided to try and get to know Draco. It was a challenge, and Harry
liked challenges.
Harry shook his head, trying to rid his mind of thoughts of Malfoy. He
stopped walking with a sigh. He had ended up at the lake. But Draco
wasn't here this time. "Are you really surprised?" A voice in
the back of his mind asked. "No," he muttered aloud.
Somewhere during their growing friendship, Harry had fallen in love
with Draco. He denied it, tried to ignore it, but it was always
there.. that ache. Two days ago it had rained hard. It would
probably be one of the last rains of the season, until rain turned to
snow. Harry was in the library with Draco. Snape had given the class
a list of poison symptoms, and they were to figure out what poison was
used, and research the antidote. Both boys were sitting lazily on the
floor, several books laid out in front of them. But Harry couldn't
concentrate, because his gaze kept falling on Draco. He couldn't help
it, Draco looked so good. Bent over the books, wearing a soft gray
sweater that brought out his eyes, Harry was fighting to not stare.
And that's when it happened. Mumbling Draco's name so he would look
up, Harry leaned over and kissed him. Just like that. And just like
that, Draco pulled away, looking wide-eyed, and then angry. He
accused Harry of being a repulsive pervert, and left the library
quickly. Harry was devastated. He had been rejected, he felt like a
fool... and worst of all, he had ruined the friendship with Draco that
had meant so much to him. The following two days passed slowly and
uneventfully. Harry wanted to apologize; hoping there was a chance to
rebuild the fragile bond they had formed. But Draco was avoiding him,
and with a feeling of bitter emptiness, Harry knew it was over.
The sound of leaves crunching came from behind him. Startled, Harry
turned to see who was there. His mouth parted and his eyes widened
with surprise.. it was Draco. Harry stood still, staring. Draco's
silvery blonde hair was combed back neatly, perfect as always. His
cheeks were slightly flushed, and his cold gray eyes matched the
cloudy autumn sky. He wasn't wearing his scarf, just his Hogwarts
robes over his clothing. Harry waited. It was a moment; it felt like
an eternity. He expected an insult, a snide remark, a look of
disgust... but Draco just stood there.
"Malfoy, what do you--?"
"Harry..."
Harry paused, in all their time together, neither of them had stopped
calling each other by their last names. The use of his first name
surprised him almost as much as the look on Draco's face. He looked...
"I'm sorry."
Harry was taken aback. He was almost moved to tears. These were two
words he had never heard Draco say, never would have expected him to
say. And he sounded so sincere. He -looked- so sincere. Harry
stepped forward, absently unraveling his own scarf.
"I'm sorry, too... here.. you look cold..."
He wrapped some of his crimson and gold scarf around the other boy's
neck, still keeping part of it wrapped around his. They stood close,
their breath visible in the crisp air. Neither said a thing. Harry
was overjoyed to be forgiven, but unsure of what to do next. He
studied Draco's face... was he imagining it, or did he look yearning?
His eyes looked bright with desire. Unable to find his voice to ask,
Harry closed the distance between them, chancing another kiss.
Draco's lips were soft, despite the cold, and responsive. This time
he didn't hesitate or pull away, and kissed Harry with the longing he
was too scared to admit or return the other day. Their arms
instinctively wrapped around each other, and they remained embraced
after the kiss. Harry thought to himself... He knew this would
never be easy, or simple. He knew most people wouldn't even
understand it. Sometimes he wasn't sure he did. But he knew one
thing for certain, he never felt more complete than when he was with
Draco. Standing like this by the lake, the wind gently blowing the
fallen leaves around their shoes. It felt right. Harry looked up and
into Draco's eyes, and saw a warmth they only seemed to hold for him.
They kissed again, and the wind blew against them, but neither
noticed. Harry was conscious only of Draco, and knew in his heart
that this was meant to be.
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