This is an exceprt from the advent fic that I'm writing for the Christmas challenge at dracoharry100. (http://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/)
It was the evening of the next day...December 21st, the solstice. But more importantly, it was Yule night and Draco sat in the lab at the back of his house, working furiously. It was the only way he could ignore the growing ache in his heart. Yule had always been a very important day for his family. It had been a day of joy and celebration, a day that he used to look forward to as a child. But all that was long gone, as were his parents. Draco hadn't celebrated Yule for over twelve years.
One or the other of his friends always invited him to celebrate with them, but no matter how close to his friends he was, he always felt like an outsider. Yule, like Christmas, is an occasion to celebrate with family and Draco had none. No one that he could think of as truly his. This was what made December such a painful time for him. And as if all this wasn't enough, he now had the additional pain of his confession to Harry to deal with.
He'd been in his lab for hours now, working, testing his spells and writing up the results. Draco was a magical theorist, the best in the field, in fact...a reputation that he had worked very hard to acquire. He loved his work; it made him happy. There had been a time when his work and his friends had been enough. But that was no longer true. Draco was getting older and feeling the need for love, companionship and a family that was truly his own. And somehow all that was tied up with Harry.
He sighed impatiently as thoughts of Harry continued to invade his mind. Why am I so fixated on him? He's not interested. I should just move on...but I can't...no one else feels right, he thought and then he cursed himself for being so pathetic. He sat back in his chair and groaned. His back hurt, his legs hurt, his neck was stiff, his head was throbbing. He was exhausted. He knew that he needed to eat something, take a hot bath and get himself to bed. But he couldn't muster the energy to move. So he lay there with his head propped on his arm and his eyes began to close as sleep stole over his weary body.
Here's the link (http://slowroad.livejournal.com/34852.html) if you want to read more.
no subject
It was the evening of the next day...December 21st, the solstice. But more importantly, it was Yule night and Draco sat in the lab at the back of his house, working furiously. It was the only way he could ignore the growing ache in his heart. Yule had always been a very important day for his family. It had been a day of joy and celebration, a day that he used to look forward to as a child. But all that was long gone, as were his parents. Draco hadn't celebrated Yule for over twelve years.
One or the other of his friends always invited him to celebrate with them, but no matter how close to his friends he was, he always felt like an outsider. Yule, like Christmas, is an occasion to celebrate with family and Draco had none. No one that he could think of as truly his. This was what made December such a painful time for him. And as if all this wasn't enough, he now had the additional pain of his confession to Harry to deal with.
He'd been in his lab for hours now, working, testing his spells and writing up the results. Draco was a magical theorist, the best in the field, in fact...a reputation that he had worked very hard to acquire. He loved his work; it made him happy. There had been a time when his work and his friends had been enough. But that was no longer true. Draco was getting older and feeling the need for love, companionship and a family that was truly his own. And somehow all that was tied up with Harry.
He sighed impatiently as thoughts of Harry continued to invade his mind. Why am I so fixated on him? He's not interested. I should just move on...but I can't...no one else feels right, he thought and then he cursed himself for being so pathetic. He sat back in his chair and groaned. His back hurt, his legs hurt, his neck was stiff, his head was throbbing. He was exhausted. He knew that he needed to eat something, take a hot bath and get himself to bed. But he couldn't muster the energy to move. So he lay there with his head propped on his arm and his eyes began to close as sleep stole over his weary body.
Here's the link (http://slowroad.livejournal.com/34852.html) if you want to read more.