Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Fu Inle ❯ angel from my nightmare ( Chapter 15 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: flight815kitsune 
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Psychological / Hentai / Drama / Shounen | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 12.09.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 495 | Status: Completed
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Psychological / Hentai / Drama / Shounen | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 12.09.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 495 | Status: Completed
Fu Inle Fifteen: Angel from my nightmare
I know I left it at a wonderful place last time, so I figured I had better update. Sorry it took so long. PLEASE comment or review me. I need something to cheer me up after all this angst.
I don’t own anything but my ideas, and they tend to spiral into things like this. Stupid buzz ballad commercial…Warnings for this chapter are violence, angst and me manipulating the Potterverse. That said, enjoy.
What should I do? He pauses outside of the door.
A sob makes up his mind for him. As his heart sinks, he slowly opens the door.
I’ve done it. I’ve ruined his life.
Harry is sleeping, obviously in the throes of a bad dream. A few books lay face down on the bed and floor. The blankets are mussed again. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. Pale has replaced Tan. He squirms, trying to get away from the monster in his mind. Small sounds that may or may not be words pass his lips.
Draco falls against the door frame. He slides to the ground. His knees are drawn up to his chest. One hand covers his mouth, the other finds it’s spot in his hair.
No.no.no. I can’t do this. Leave. I have to leave.
There’s a low hiss and his blood runs cold.
No. He…he’s not the Dark Lord. He’s the opposite…He’s just a parseltongue. No need to panic like in second year. It’s a nightmare. I can’t just leave him…It’s my fault.
He picks himself up. With feline grace, he goes to the brunette’s side.
How can I stop a nightmare?
Memory of when he first arrived .
This had better work…stupid lion tactics rubbing off on me.
He presses his lips to the feverish brow.
Harry freezes, and his breathing returns to normal.
Seriously? It worked? In what universe should that help?!
Green eyes snap open, growing wide in half a heartbeat. Harry jumps and backs away. His wand points at the blonde.
I knew it.
“Oh…it’s you.” He relaxes, abandoning his wand and falling back on papers and books.
Maybe not. “Who else would it be?” the light mocking tone is accompanied by a smile. It wasn’t about me…
“Another person with your hair, your features.”
“My father.” It’s a statement, not a question. He belongs in nightmares.
“I feel sick…” the pale tone hasn’t left. “How can he do that? Your father really thought you were dead…”
“What?” Why should he feel sympathy if it was about my father?
“Draco…He’s happy. He punished Lucius for lying, but he’s happy. I’m sorry…he has some of your friends in the dungeons... I saw…” he shakes his head, slow and guilty.
“You’re not making any sense.” It was just a dream. Just his imagination.
“Voldemort. Wants. You.” He makes a small disgusted sound in his throat. “And in more ways than his average prisoner.”
“What the hell are you talking about? No one can read the Dark Lord’s mind. I doubt you could master that skill at all, let alone use it in your sleep.”
“We’re connected.” The words are nearly silent. “Always have been, I guess. It’s gotten stronger as he has. I can tell when he’s happy. I can tell when he’s angry. And sometimes…I get him instead of dreams. Sometimes it’s helpful, bits of plans or people with hope of rescue. It helped save Arthur Weasley in fifth year. Other times it’s less useful. Torture, murder, or him purposely tricking me…he’s the reason I can talk to snakes. What if…what if he’s the reason I’m like this? ”
Draco gives an irritated huff to cover up the amount of time it’s taking for a proper response to form in his head. That’s why he’s obsessed. Potter didn’t just embarrass him, didn’t just live. He stole from him.
“Shut up.” He grumbles. “You’re Harry Potter!” He makes a show of acting like someone seeing him for the first time, gasp and all. “The boy who lived!”
Harry smiles, so he continues without the sarcasm.
“Like what? A foolish, brave, overly affectionate, trusting to a fault Gryffindor hero? Hate to break it to you, but that’s not an accurate description of him. So, unless this magically psychic dream of yours changed the fact that you and he are…oh, I don’t know…complete enemies, I don’t think it has any major impact on the current situation.”
“I needed that.” There’s a soft smile that vanishes like camera flash as something else obviously weighs on Harry’s mind.
“What now?” seriously, how do his friends put up with this?
“Still...what if he is why? He might be why we fucked so quick...”
“Tact as usual, Potter.”
“Do you think things would have moved so damn fast on their own?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. You aren’t known for being patient.” I can’t accept the thought that he’s influencing him. Hell, the idea that there’s more than a hero/villain relationship between them... “ I doubt the dark lord had any influence on your preferences. Besides, if he was why, things would have been...different.”
Harry’s silence begs for more, but he’s learned by now to keep questions to himself.
Draco smiles. Just a little. It will make him back off. Just so that I have less to hide. “How much did you see in the dungeon?”
“... I don’t know if he’s alive or not. “
No. Panic races through every vein. “Who?”
“Zambini. He was angry. Blaise never said where you were...”
Oh. Blaise wasn’t allowed to talk. It had to have been plain torture “If he’s dead, he’s dead. If he’s alive, he’s supposed to be. Same with the others. Unless you had some sort of dramatic Gryffindor rescue in mind?”
Harry just smiles, a spark in the green eyes so often compared to those of his mother.
I know I left it at a wonderful place last time, so I figured I had better update. Sorry it took so long. PLEASE comment or review me. I need something to cheer me up after all this angst.
I don’t own anything but my ideas, and they tend to spiral into things like this. Stupid buzz ballad commercial…Warnings for this chapter are violence, angst and me manipulating the Potterverse. That said, enjoy.
What should I do? He pauses outside of the door.
A sob makes up his mind for him. As his heart sinks, he slowly opens the door.
I’ve done it. I’ve ruined his life.
Harry is sleeping, obviously in the throes of a bad dream. A few books lay face down on the bed and floor. The blankets are mussed again. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. Pale has replaced Tan. He squirms, trying to get away from the monster in his mind. Small sounds that may or may not be words pass his lips.
Draco falls against the door frame. He slides to the ground. His knees are drawn up to his chest. One hand covers his mouth, the other finds it’s spot in his hair.
No.no.no. I can’t do this. Leave. I have to leave.
There’s a low hiss and his blood runs cold.
No. He…he’s not the Dark Lord. He’s the opposite…He’s just a parseltongue. No need to panic like in second year. It’s a nightmare. I can’t just leave him…It’s my fault.
He picks himself up. With feline grace, he goes to the brunette’s side.
How can I stop a nightmare?
Memory of when he first arrived .
This had better work…stupid lion tactics rubbing off on me.
He presses his lips to the feverish brow.
Harry freezes, and his breathing returns to normal.
Seriously? It worked? In what universe should that help?!
Green eyes snap open, growing wide in half a heartbeat. Harry jumps and backs away. His wand points at the blonde.
I knew it.
“Oh…it’s you.” He relaxes, abandoning his wand and falling back on papers and books.
Maybe not. “Who else would it be?” the light mocking tone is accompanied by a smile. It wasn’t about me…
“Another person with your hair, your features.”
“My father.” It’s a statement, not a question. He belongs in nightmares.
“I feel sick…” the pale tone hasn’t left. “How can he do that? Your father really thought you were dead…”
“What?” Why should he feel sympathy if it was about my father?
“Draco…He’s happy. He punished Lucius for lying, but he’s happy. I’m sorry…he has some of your friends in the dungeons... I saw…” he shakes his head, slow and guilty.
“You’re not making any sense.” It was just a dream. Just his imagination.
“Voldemort. Wants. You.” He makes a small disgusted sound in his throat. “And in more ways than his average prisoner.”
“What the hell are you talking about? No one can read the Dark Lord’s mind. I doubt you could master that skill at all, let alone use it in your sleep.”
“We’re connected.” The words are nearly silent. “Always have been, I guess. It’s gotten stronger as he has. I can tell when he’s happy. I can tell when he’s angry. And sometimes…I get him instead of dreams. Sometimes it’s helpful, bits of plans or people with hope of rescue. It helped save Arthur Weasley in fifth year. Other times it’s less useful. Torture, murder, or him purposely tricking me…he’s the reason I can talk to snakes. What if…what if he’s the reason I’m like this? ”
Draco gives an irritated huff to cover up the amount of time it’s taking for a proper response to form in his head. That’s why he’s obsessed. Potter didn’t just embarrass him, didn’t just live. He stole from him.
“Shut up.” He grumbles. “You’re Harry Potter!” He makes a show of acting like someone seeing him for the first time, gasp and all. “The boy who lived!”
Harry smiles, so he continues without the sarcasm.
“Like what? A foolish, brave, overly affectionate, trusting to a fault Gryffindor hero? Hate to break it to you, but that’s not an accurate description of him. So, unless this magically psychic dream of yours changed the fact that you and he are…oh, I don’t know…complete enemies, I don’t think it has any major impact on the current situation.”
“I needed that.” There’s a soft smile that vanishes like camera flash as something else obviously weighs on Harry’s mind.
“What now?” seriously, how do his friends put up with this?
“Still...what if he is why? He might be why we fucked so quick...”
“Tact as usual, Potter.”
“Do you think things would have moved so damn fast on their own?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. You aren’t known for being patient.” I can’t accept the thought that he’s influencing him. Hell, the idea that there’s more than a hero/villain relationship between them... “ I doubt the dark lord had any influence on your preferences. Besides, if he was why, things would have been...different.”
Harry’s silence begs for more, but he’s learned by now to keep questions to himself.
Draco smiles. Just a little. It will make him back off. Just so that I have less to hide. “How much did you see in the dungeon?”
“... I don’t know if he’s alive or not. “
No. Panic races through every vein. “Who?”
“Zambini. He was angry. Blaise never said where you were...”
Oh. Blaise wasn’t allowed to talk. It had to have been plain torture “If he’s dead, he’s dead. If he’s alive, he’s supposed to be. Same with the others. Unless you had some sort of dramatic Gryffindor rescue in mind?”
Harry just smiles, a spark in the green eyes so often compared to those of his mother.