I voted in the local election today - for the Lib Dems, since I'm that stereotypical liberal, bisexual young English student. I'm really quite excited by it - I've never voted before, I've always been too young.
The people at the polling station were lovely. And very pleased to see someone vote in the local elections, LMAO. Especially someone under twenty-five.
How do we celebrate a milestone? Yep, fic. Specifically, three angsty post-DH drabbles. I'm including the Epilogue That Can Not Be Named, people.Title:
Shared GazeWord count:
300 - 3 connected drabblesCharacters/pairings:
Harry/Ginny implied, Draco/Astoria implied. Of course, it's all about Harry/Draco.Author's Notes:
Written for dracoharry100
's challenge, intimateDisclaimer:
The boys belong to JKR, though I think I'm often nicer to them than she is.
They never smile.
Draco and Harry haven’t spoken since their last night, but they’ve come to a tacit agreement nonetheless. They don’t smile at each other. It’s silly, really; does nothing to disguise their feelings when they spend this public banquet drowning in each other’s eyes.
Weasley – he’ll never think of her as Mrs Potter – touches Harry’s shoulder and leans down, whispers to him. Draco’s mouth twists at the implied intimacy, and it takes new self-control to stop him yelling at her to take her hand off.
She does. The wedding ring on it glimmers, and Draco abruptly feels sick.
He’s grown his hair longer since Harry last saw him; Ginny thinks he looks like Lucius. If she watched Draco as he does – scrutinising each inch of pale skin, learning each new wrinkle – she wouldn’t speak such blasphemy.
Draco could never be anyone but himself; the bright centre of Harry’s universe. He shines in company. Sometimes Harry hates that Draco can sense Harry’s presence; he always quietens to return the intimate gaze.
Meeting his eyes is like staring into the sun. Bright and intense, it threatens to bring tears to Harry’s eyes. Draco is far away, and shining, and untouchable.
Harry jumps when Ginny whispers to him. For a moment he’s filled with resentment that she's interrupted the shared gaze that's the only
thing he and Draco now share.
Ginny talks, and he watches Draco. Draco’s hair falls forward, revealing the shadowed nape of his neck. The sight of that intimate, vulnerable skin exposed is a visceral reminder of his loss.
It’s time to leave. Harry drags his gaze away, and keeps it on Ginny’s moon-pale shoulders as he follows her into the dim hall. He looks back for an instant, and glimpses that bright light in Draco’s eyes fading.