Ficlet: Lull (Dramione PG)
Apr. 26th, 2009 11:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookishwenchThis was from last week's challenge, which needed to use a war setting, involve courage, and have a loose connection to Saving Private Ryan (all the drabble challenges this round have a movie connection).
Rating: PG
Word count: 499
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. This work of fiction is created with no expectation of financial gain, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Lull
The cacophony of battle had stopped for the brief respite as both sides tended their wounded, but the silence made the cries of the injured all the more obvious and terrifying.
Crabbe was dead. Draco had seen too much death in the last year, but never before had the victim been someone his own age. It reminded him that anyone could die: Father, Mother, Severus, even himself.
Even her.
That was why, in disobedience to the Dark Lord’s order for all Death Eaters to gather in the forest clearing, Draco was circling around the lake and back towards the castle. He needed to find her. As he walked, he passed Ginny Weasley, who was bending over an injured girl and speaking softly in a tone people used when hope was gone. He squinted at the victim in the dim light until he was sure it wasn’t Hermione, but it gave him no comfort.
He went on, almost swearing he passed someone in the darkness though no one was visible, until he reached the castle. Drawing a shuddering breath, he realized he was in the very heart of the enemy’s camp. He had entered a makeshift morgue. Everywhere he looked were people who would kill him if given half a chance, and his death might be a momentary balm for the pain of a lost loved one. He couldn’t blame them, but he had to keep looking.
Then he saw a cluster of red-haired people gathered around a fallen figure at the far end of the Great Hall. The Weasleys were friends of Hermione. If something had happened to her, it would explain why they were mourning in the hall of the dead.
As he drew closer, he recognized one bushy-haired figure in the sea of red, and he let out a sigh of relief. Somehow, it was as though she heard it, for he saw her deftly extricate herself from the group without drawing the least attention. In a few seconds, she was beside him.
“How dare you?” she whispered furiously as she led him to a less exposed spot. “You have no right to intrude here!”
“Who was it?” he asked.
“Fred, not that you’d care,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly.
“Why are you here?” she asked, and he could tell it wasn’t just an accusation. She really wanted an answer.
“Because I needed to know,” he answered truthfully.
“Even if you got yourself killed?” she said, sounding confused.
“There’s more than one kind of death,” he said.
He looked around at the rows of dead adults and students, and the enormity of the war pressed in on him. He didn’t know what gave him the courage to place one swift kiss on her cheek, but she didn’t move, and it was enough.
“Truly, I am sorry, Hermione,” he said, “for so many things.”
He carried with him the picture of her standing perfectly still, watching him as he retreated into the darkness, waiting for dawn.
This week is the finale, and yes, I'm still in there. Go vote! :)
Come See Draco & Hermione in Their New Movie
Click the Ticket to Read & Vote!
This Week: GRAND FINALE -- 2 drabbles each
Rating: PG
Word count: 499
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. This work of fiction is created with no expectation of financial gain, and no copyright infringement is intended.
The cacophony of battle had stopped for the brief respite as both sides tended their wounded, but the silence made the cries of the injured all the more obvious and terrifying.
Crabbe was dead. Draco had seen too much death in the last year, but never before had the victim been someone his own age. It reminded him that anyone could die: Father, Mother, Severus, even himself.
Even her.
That was why, in disobedience to the Dark Lord’s order for all Death Eaters to gather in the forest clearing, Draco was circling around the lake and back towards the castle. He needed to find her. As he walked, he passed Ginny Weasley, who was bending over an injured girl and speaking softly in a tone people used when hope was gone. He squinted at the victim in the dim light until he was sure it wasn’t Hermione, but it gave him no comfort.
He went on, almost swearing he passed someone in the darkness though no one was visible, until he reached the castle. Drawing a shuddering breath, he realized he was in the very heart of the enemy’s camp. He had entered a makeshift morgue. Everywhere he looked were people who would kill him if given half a chance, and his death might be a momentary balm for the pain of a lost loved one. He couldn’t blame them, but he had to keep looking.
Then he saw a cluster of red-haired people gathered around a fallen figure at the far end of the Great Hall. The Weasleys were friends of Hermione. If something had happened to her, it would explain why they were mourning in the hall of the dead.
As he drew closer, he recognized one bushy-haired figure in the sea of red, and he let out a sigh of relief. Somehow, it was as though she heard it, for he saw her deftly extricate herself from the group without drawing the least attention. In a few seconds, she was beside him.
“How dare you?” she whispered furiously as she led him to a less exposed spot. “You have no right to intrude here!”
“Who was it?” he asked.
“Fred, not that you’d care,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly.
“Why are you here?” she asked, and he could tell it wasn’t just an accusation. She really wanted an answer.
“Because I needed to know,” he answered truthfully.
“Even if you got yourself killed?” she said, sounding confused.
“There’s more than one kind of death,” he said.
He looked around at the rows of dead adults and students, and the enormity of the war pressed in on him. He didn’t know what gave him the courage to place one swift kiss on her cheek, but she didn’t move, and it was enough.
“Truly, I am sorry, Hermione,” he said, “for so many things.”
He carried with him the picture of her standing perfectly still, watching him as he retreated into the darkness, waiting for dawn.
This week is the finale, and yes, I'm still in there. Go vote! :)
Come See Draco & Hermione in Their New Movie
Click the Ticket to Read & Vote!
This Week: GRAND FINALE -- 2 drabbles each
