I really liked the mod's prompt, but then I did the meme myself and this happened:
I had expected more of you. A warrior or a great magicion. But you really are nothing.
Let you in
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
He looked up startled. He hadn't even felt the wards letting in a guest. Not that he had much control left over them, not when he wasn't legally a proprietor anymore.
"What do you want Potter?" he spat out.
"I'm concerned. I heard you'd locked yourself into Malfoy Manor the moment the Ministry took control of your family’s property. I was send to make sure you hadn't starved yourself to death."
Potter's voice was soft and low and Draco unwillingly studied the man's features more closely to make sure it really was him.
It really was Potter; messy hair and ridiculously green eyes in place. He looked away.
"The Ministry is eager to register my demise," he said calmly, shaking his shoulders in nonchalance.
He felt rather than heard Potter approaching.
“What are you doing here?” Potter repeated his initial question.
Draco rolled his eyes at the Gryffindor persistence. “Staying out of trouble,” he muttered, “and keeping the only thing I have left. The moment I step out of this house, the wards will close off behind me and I’ll never get back in.”
Potter slid down next to him on the floor, too close. He glanced sideways, but the man wasn’t looking at him, he was looking into the fire, just as he’d been doing.
It was the only fire he could get going. In the ones in the upstairs rooms the wood refused to catch fire.
“You can’t stay here forever.” Harry reasoned.
Draco just snorted. He would. A Malfoy would not end up on the street. Even in the days he’d been fugitive with Snape, the potions master had always kept a roof above their heads.
A distinct cough above him disrupted Draco from his thoughts. He sighed and reluctantly lifted his head to face Cepheus, who’d apparently woken up sometime during his conversation with Potter.
“You did not alert me of our guest, Draconis.” Cepheus reprimanded.
“Uncle Cepheus, meet Harry Potter. Potter, meet my uncle Cepheus.” Draco droned.
“Nice to meet you.” Potter said.
Not really, Draco thought. And Cepheus did not disappoint.
“Hmmm,” the man started, “last time you set foot in this house you were in the dungeons, where you belonged.”
Draco heard Potter sputter and it should have been funny, but it wasn’t. “Ignore the cranky old man, Potter.”
“Cranky old man?” Cepheus seethed, “You have no right insulting me! You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name.”
It had become easy to shut out Cepheus’s rambling but it stung now, with Potter witnessing the abuse.
“I had expected more from you, Draconis, we all did,” Cepheus continued, “But you never were a true warrior to our cause and not much of a talented wizard either.”
Draco remained quiet, feeling Potter’s eyes on him but staring stoically ahead.
“You really are nothing.”
Suddenly Potter grabbed his arm and pulled him upright, forcing Draco to face his nemesis.
“How can you stay here?” Potter demanded, “This house is spitting you out!”
No, Draco thought; the world is spitting me out, but you couldn’t understand.
“Leave. Leave with me.” Harry sounded strangely hoarse and Draco looked, really looked into his eyes.
Harry’s lips were on his and he didn’t feel the tug of apparition. He felt the wards closing off behind him but it didn’t feel like the end. It felt like a beginning.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Let you in (H/D)
Date: 2011-09-17 01:18 pm (UTC)I had expected more of you. A warrior or a great magicion. But you really are nothing.
Let you in
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
He looked up startled. He hadn't even felt the wards letting in a guest. Not that he had much control left over them, not when he wasn't legally a proprietor anymore.
"What do you want Potter?" he spat out.
"I'm concerned. I heard you'd locked yourself into Malfoy Manor the moment the Ministry took control of your family’s property. I was send to make sure you hadn't starved yourself to death."
Potter's voice was soft and low and Draco unwillingly studied the man's features more closely to make sure it really was him.
It really was Potter; messy hair and ridiculously green eyes in place. He looked away.
"The Ministry is eager to register my demise," he said calmly, shaking his shoulders in nonchalance.
He felt rather than heard Potter approaching.
“What are you doing here?” Potter repeated his initial question.
Draco rolled his eyes at the Gryffindor persistence. “Staying out of trouble,” he muttered, “and keeping the only thing I have left. The moment I step out of this house, the wards will close off behind me and I’ll never get back in.”
Potter slid down next to him on the floor, too close. He glanced sideways, but the man wasn’t looking at him, he was looking into the fire, just as he’d been doing.
It was the only fire he could get going. In the ones in the upstairs rooms the wood refused to catch fire.
“You can’t stay here forever.” Harry reasoned.
Draco just snorted. He would. A Malfoy would not end up on the street. Even in the days he’d been fugitive with Snape, the potions master had always kept a roof above their heads.
A distinct cough above him disrupted Draco from his thoughts. He sighed and reluctantly lifted his head to face Cepheus, who’d apparently woken up sometime during his conversation with Potter.
“You did not alert me of our guest, Draconis.” Cepheus reprimanded.
“Uncle Cepheus, meet Harry Potter. Potter, meet my uncle Cepheus.” Draco droned.
“Nice to meet you.” Potter said.
Not really, Draco thought. And Cepheus did not disappoint.
“Hmmm,” the man started, “last time you set foot in this house you were in the dungeons, where you belonged.”
Draco heard Potter sputter and it should have been funny, but it wasn’t. “Ignore the cranky old man, Potter.”
“Cranky old man?” Cepheus seethed, “You have no right insulting me! You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name.”
It had become easy to shut out Cepheus’s rambling but it stung now, with Potter witnessing the abuse.
“I had expected more from you, Draconis, we all did,” Cepheus continued, “But you never were a true warrior to our cause and not much of a talented wizard either.”
Draco remained quiet, feeling Potter’s eyes on him but staring stoically ahead.
“You really are nothing.”
Suddenly Potter grabbed his arm and pulled him upright, forcing Draco to face his nemesis.
“How can you stay here?” Potter demanded, “This house is spitting you out!”
No, Draco thought; the world is spitting me out, but you couldn’t understand.
“Leave. Leave with me.” Harry sounded strangely hoarse and Draco looked, really looked into his eyes.
Harry’s lips were on his and he didn’t feel the tug of apparition. He felt the wards closing off behind him but it didn’t feel like the end. It felt like a beginning.