- ficlet - speaking louder - Harry angst
Sep. 10th, 2004 08:05 pmFor those who are curious about what I mean when I say my Harry just doesn't like (canon) Draco, I present this piece of evidence, straight from my Harry muse, so to speak. It's not so much a story as an um... state of mind thing, and it's actually part of a game but you don't need the context for it, I don't think, to understand where I'm coming from.
So. Angry and bored!Harry meets frustrated and enraged yet impotent!Draco, Take One.
Disclaimer: not mine.
Author's Note: Sorry, Stef.
- speaking louder -
Harry sat on the hard stool in the Potions lab with a straight back, his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth set in a flat line. "You wanted to talk? So talk. I'm listening."
Malfoy took a deep breath. "You're so full of yourself, Potter. You think you know everything, don't you?! But really, you're nothing. You're no one. You're completely deluded, and no one's got the bollocks to tell you, because everyone bloody pities you."
"You don't know anything about me, Malfoy. Your little speeches are pathetic, actually, since all they show is that you've bought into what your Death Eater father and the Prophet say about me. You don't know me and what's more, you -can't- know me."
Malfoy sneered, his fists clenching rather obviously. Harry studied Malfoy's blood-splotched funny face, since it was more interesting than the rubbish that he insisted on spewing at him. "You think you know -me- then, is that it? You think you have the bloody right to tell me what I do and don't know because you're the Mudbloods' sodding hero?"
Harry sighed, twisting his neck back and forth to relieve some pressure. "I don't -want- to know you, Malfoy. That's the point! You're disgusting enough as it is, all right? All I need to know is what I see, and every time I see you, I feel like I'd stepped in something. I know you must feel the same, so why don't you just crawl into your little hole in the ground and stay there for once?"
"I wouldn't want to give you the satisfaction, Scarhead." Harry wasn't looking at him anymore, only staring up at the ceiling. Will this detention never end?
"No, you wouldn't, would you? You must get off on me always putting you back in your place, eh, Malfoy? Does it get your little whiskers twitching?" He smirked. "Not that I have to ask, really."
"Is that what you think, Scarfuck?! I'll kill you, and your little Muggle-loving crew of stinking foot-licking freaks! I'll get you, you'll see! You'll be fucking sorry, but it'll be too fucking little too late!"
"Blah blah blah you'll kill me, blah, yeah right. I might actually pay attention to you if you were ever anything but full of hot air and empty threats, you know. But that's all you are. Empty." Harry gestured explansively with his hand, making a vague curl in the air. "Full of-- nothing."
"I'll show you fucking NOTHING, you--"
"No one wants you, Malfoy," Harry interrupted, still speaking in a monotone. "Not even your evil prick of a father, I'll bet. Even Voldemort would probably pick Nott over you."
"Aaaargh! You fucking cunt!! Come on, draw your filthy weapon like a real wizard! I'll show you what a Malfoy can do, fuckhead! DRAW IT!!"
"Haha, don't make me laugh. That makes me even more queasy." Harry cocked his head, looking at Malfoy through the fringe that fell over his glasses. Malfoy looked like a flushed albino ferret like that. "This isn't even interesting anymore. I have better things to do with my time than grinding you into dust yet again, in case you didn't know."
Out of nowhere, Malfoy leapt at Harry before he could see it coming, screaming and pulling at his hair like a child. "You'll fucking pay!!" he screamed shrilly in his face, biting down on Harry's ear with pointy little teeth.
Harry growled and bucked him off, pouncing when Malfoy landed on the floor with a loud crash and pinning him to the ground. He trapped Malfoy's arms at his sides and sneered, breathing hard. "Want more?" he hissed, licking at the tiny trickle of blood that seeped from his mouth. The blood pounded behind his forehead, like a headache except it felt almost good. "Or have you had enough already, princess?"
"There can never be enough pain for the likes of you, FUCKER!!" Malfoy's legs came up, twisting around Harry's waist and bucking viciously, loosening Harry's hold on him. They knocked foreheads and Harry groaned as stars danced before his eyes.
"Fuck," he breathed, momentarily unsettled. Malfoy's bony sharp hips were cutting into him and his elbow jabbed with incredible crazed force into his stomach, making Harry's vision flicker again. Malfoy was screaming something like 'DIEDIEDIEDIEYOUFUCKERDIE', but Harry wasn't paying attention. He'd knocked the back of his head on the floor at some point, and there was a loud buzzing in his ears that drowned out Malfoy's annoying screams nicely.
"Get up, Potty! Try again!" Malfoy was up, kicking his foot into Harry's side about as hard as Hermione might have. "GET THE FUCK UP!" he screamed, kicking harder. "FIGHT ME OR I'LL KILL YOU, I SWEAR I WILL!"
Harry smiled, not really feeling the pain anymore. Malfoy couldn't hurt him, he thought. Malfoy couldn't hurt him at all. "So kill me," he said in a strange voice he didn't quite recognize as his own. "What are you waiting for? This is the best chance you'll ever get, Malfoy. Knock yourself out." He wanted to laugh. It would be funny if Malfoy could kill him where Voldemort couldn't yet, except it wouldn't happen in a million years, which was actually the joke.
"DON'T FUCKING PLAY WITH ME, SCARFUCK!! I'M NOT LISTENING TO THIS!! GET THE FUCK UP!!"
He would've laughed, but his throat felt raw somehow, and it might have hurt. His jaw hurt, too. He could still feel Malfoy's teeth on him, a slow trickle of sensation making its way down to his toes; it was almost an imprint. Some kind of dirty mark. Whatever it was, Harry didn't care. "That's the point, isn't it? You're not listening, and I'm not listening, so why don't we just stop while you're behind?"
"STOP IT WITH THE STUPID CRAZY TALK, POTTER! WHAT, ARE YOU SCARED?"
Harry's eyes snapped open. Malfoy looked pretty beat up, standing over him with his tie loose and his hair in his face and his shirt askew. Harry wondered if he'd managed to leave Malfoy a few bruises in awkward places this time. "No," he said quietly. "That was always you, remember? Does my blood make you wet your pants, Malfoy? Because pain doesn't scare me, but yours would bore me to tears."
Malfoy was shaking. He was visibly shaking from head to foot, but somehow his wand stayed pointed steadily at Harry, and Harry almost respected that enough to get up. "Take your best shot, Malfoy. Come on. I'm asking you to." He spread his arms on either side of him, palms up. "Do it. COME ON."
Malfoy's face twisted like he'd been hit with a Bludger, and he threw himself down on top of Harry with a yell, his hands spasming as they clenched around Harry's throat while he bit Harry's mouth, screaming something incoherent. There was more blood this time, but Malfoy wouldn't stop, and Harry didn't stop him. When Harry put up no resistance, Malfoy pulled away, eyes wide and disbelieving, his chest heaving. The shuddering hadn't stopped, either. "You--" he panted, swallowing. "You're a freak, Potter, you-- you can't-- you can't want--"
He jumped up like a wild thing, cringing away as Harry only watched impassively, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "FUCKING THINK YOU'RE TOO GOOD TO FIGHT ME, DO YOU?? I'LL FUCKING SHOW YOU!" he yelled, hand darting without obvious volition to shield the obvious bulge in his trousers in some pathetic attempt at dignity. His hair stuck out everywhere, and he looked completely insane, but at that moment, Harry almost enjoyed this. Almost enjoyed him, in some twisted sick way.
Malfoy ran away, of course, pulling his shirt over the crotch of his trousers, and Harry fancied he could hear those loud gasps even from halfway down the corridor.
He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair and wincing at the huge bruise he could feel forming on his back. He smirked, remembering Hermione telling him that he was an awful listener. 'Honestly, Harry, try a little harder sometimes! It will pay off, trust me!'
Harry shook his head, wincing a bit. He supposed one learned something every day.
~~
P.S. And then I read the first paragraph of `As it should be', and dude, I love Draco again <3 Maybe I just... maybe I'm just not doing it right. See, I don't love -all- Dracos. I just love some Dracos. This is one of them <3<3<3<3 Oh, *heart*. Also, I think I've just realized that I don't actually love my Draco, not when I take him seriously. :/ This might be a problem, come to think of it. But maybe one isn't supposed to take him seriously-- maybe he's best as a smirking sneering fool. I mean, it doesn't even feel like a question of being OOC. He's just... bleh. He has no charm, well, especially in angstfic. He's so... childish but not in a cute way. He's kinda cute in canon, but. Really, the best angstfic has a sense of humor, and the best Dracos are fools, crazy crazy freaky fools. My Draco seems to have perpetual indigestion or something. Bleh.
Actually, I think I still -can- write him 'cutely' (like... I'm thinking of the Draco/Zacharias I wrote for Maya), it's just... that feels like a waste of time or something.
On the other hand, it's a lot easier to write cute!Draco from Draco's own pov-- I think that's what I'm forgetting. Usually, cute!Draco fic isn't written from Harry's pov, unless it's Zahra. Hmmm. In which case there's a lot of boycrushing and denial going on, and my Harry is emphatically not in denial (though Draco is). Maybe I try too hard, though. It's just... my bond with them began with anger-- I only kind of... graduated to cuteness. I actually -enjoy- it more when it's not as heavy, so to speak, but then, I always want to 'deal' with things and... then it's just not so funny anymore. I feel like I can't ignore that, though I want to. I feel like... it's hard to love them like that, but if I don't, I'm cheating them somehow. I dunno.
So. Angry and bored!Harry meets frustrated and enraged yet impotent!Draco, Take One.
Disclaimer: not mine.
Author's Note: Sorry, Stef.
- speaking louder -
Harry sat on the hard stool in the Potions lab with a straight back, his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth set in a flat line. "You wanted to talk? So talk. I'm listening."
Malfoy took a deep breath. "You're so full of yourself, Potter. You think you know everything, don't you?! But really, you're nothing. You're no one. You're completely deluded, and no one's got the bollocks to tell you, because everyone bloody pities you."
"You don't know anything about me, Malfoy. Your little speeches are pathetic, actually, since all they show is that you've bought into what your Death Eater father and the Prophet say about me. You don't know me and what's more, you -can't- know me."
Malfoy sneered, his fists clenching rather obviously. Harry studied Malfoy's blood-splotched funny face, since it was more interesting than the rubbish that he insisted on spewing at him. "You think you know -me- then, is that it? You think you have the bloody right to tell me what I do and don't know because you're the Mudbloods' sodding hero?"
Harry sighed, twisting his neck back and forth to relieve some pressure. "I don't -want- to know you, Malfoy. That's the point! You're disgusting enough as it is, all right? All I need to know is what I see, and every time I see you, I feel like I'd stepped in something. I know you must feel the same, so why don't you just crawl into your little hole in the ground and stay there for once?"
"I wouldn't want to give you the satisfaction, Scarhead." Harry wasn't looking at him anymore, only staring up at the ceiling. Will this detention never end?
"No, you wouldn't, would you? You must get off on me always putting you back in your place, eh, Malfoy? Does it get your little whiskers twitching?" He smirked. "Not that I have to ask, really."
"Is that what you think, Scarfuck?! I'll kill you, and your little Muggle-loving crew of stinking foot-licking freaks! I'll get you, you'll see! You'll be fucking sorry, but it'll be too fucking little too late!"
"Blah blah blah you'll kill me, blah, yeah right. I might actually pay attention to you if you were ever anything but full of hot air and empty threats, you know. But that's all you are. Empty." Harry gestured explansively with his hand, making a vague curl in the air. "Full of-- nothing."
"I'll show you fucking NOTHING, you--"
"No one wants you, Malfoy," Harry interrupted, still speaking in a monotone. "Not even your evil prick of a father, I'll bet. Even Voldemort would probably pick Nott over you."
"Aaaargh! You fucking cunt!! Come on, draw your filthy weapon like a real wizard! I'll show you what a Malfoy can do, fuckhead! DRAW IT!!"
"Haha, don't make me laugh. That makes me even more queasy." Harry cocked his head, looking at Malfoy through the fringe that fell over his glasses. Malfoy looked like a flushed albino ferret like that. "This isn't even interesting anymore. I have better things to do with my time than grinding you into dust yet again, in case you didn't know."
Out of nowhere, Malfoy leapt at Harry before he could see it coming, screaming and pulling at his hair like a child. "You'll fucking pay!!" he screamed shrilly in his face, biting down on Harry's ear with pointy little teeth.
Harry growled and bucked him off, pouncing when Malfoy landed on the floor with a loud crash and pinning him to the ground. He trapped Malfoy's arms at his sides and sneered, breathing hard. "Want more?" he hissed, licking at the tiny trickle of blood that seeped from his mouth. The blood pounded behind his forehead, like a headache except it felt almost good. "Or have you had enough already, princess?"
"There can never be enough pain for the likes of you, FUCKER!!" Malfoy's legs came up, twisting around Harry's waist and bucking viciously, loosening Harry's hold on him. They knocked foreheads and Harry groaned as stars danced before his eyes.
"Fuck," he breathed, momentarily unsettled. Malfoy's bony sharp hips were cutting into him and his elbow jabbed with incredible crazed force into his stomach, making Harry's vision flicker again. Malfoy was screaming something like 'DIEDIEDIEDIEYOUFUCKERDIE', but Harry wasn't paying attention. He'd knocked the back of his head on the floor at some point, and there was a loud buzzing in his ears that drowned out Malfoy's annoying screams nicely.
"Get up, Potty! Try again!" Malfoy was up, kicking his foot into Harry's side about as hard as Hermione might have. "GET THE FUCK UP!" he screamed, kicking harder. "FIGHT ME OR I'LL KILL YOU, I SWEAR I WILL!"
Harry smiled, not really feeling the pain anymore. Malfoy couldn't hurt him, he thought. Malfoy couldn't hurt him at all. "So kill me," he said in a strange voice he didn't quite recognize as his own. "What are you waiting for? This is the best chance you'll ever get, Malfoy. Knock yourself out." He wanted to laugh. It would be funny if Malfoy could kill him where Voldemort couldn't yet, except it wouldn't happen in a million years, which was actually the joke.
"DON'T FUCKING PLAY WITH ME, SCARFUCK!! I'M NOT LISTENING TO THIS!! GET THE FUCK UP!!"
He would've laughed, but his throat felt raw somehow, and it might have hurt. His jaw hurt, too. He could still feel Malfoy's teeth on him, a slow trickle of sensation making its way down to his toes; it was almost an imprint. Some kind of dirty mark. Whatever it was, Harry didn't care. "That's the point, isn't it? You're not listening, and I'm not listening, so why don't we just stop while you're behind?"
"STOP IT WITH THE STUPID CRAZY TALK, POTTER! WHAT, ARE YOU SCARED?"
Harry's eyes snapped open. Malfoy looked pretty beat up, standing over him with his tie loose and his hair in his face and his shirt askew. Harry wondered if he'd managed to leave Malfoy a few bruises in awkward places this time. "No," he said quietly. "That was always you, remember? Does my blood make you wet your pants, Malfoy? Because pain doesn't scare me, but yours would bore me to tears."
Malfoy was shaking. He was visibly shaking from head to foot, but somehow his wand stayed pointed steadily at Harry, and Harry almost respected that enough to get up. "Take your best shot, Malfoy. Come on. I'm asking you to." He spread his arms on either side of him, palms up. "Do it. COME ON."
Malfoy's face twisted like he'd been hit with a Bludger, and he threw himself down on top of Harry with a yell, his hands spasming as they clenched around Harry's throat while he bit Harry's mouth, screaming something incoherent. There was more blood this time, but Malfoy wouldn't stop, and Harry didn't stop him. When Harry put up no resistance, Malfoy pulled away, eyes wide and disbelieving, his chest heaving. The shuddering hadn't stopped, either. "You--" he panted, swallowing. "You're a freak, Potter, you-- you can't-- you can't want--"
He jumped up like a wild thing, cringing away as Harry only watched impassively, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "FUCKING THINK YOU'RE TOO GOOD TO FIGHT ME, DO YOU?? I'LL FUCKING SHOW YOU!" he yelled, hand darting without obvious volition to shield the obvious bulge in his trousers in some pathetic attempt at dignity. His hair stuck out everywhere, and he looked completely insane, but at that moment, Harry almost enjoyed this. Almost enjoyed him, in some twisted sick way.
Malfoy ran away, of course, pulling his shirt over the crotch of his trousers, and Harry fancied he could hear those loud gasps even from halfway down the corridor.
He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair and wincing at the huge bruise he could feel forming on his back. He smirked, remembering Hermione telling him that he was an awful listener. 'Honestly, Harry, try a little harder sometimes! It will pay off, trust me!'
Harry shook his head, wincing a bit. He supposed one learned something every day.
~~
P.S. And then I read the first paragraph of `As it should be', and dude, I love Draco again <3 Maybe I just... maybe I'm just not doing it right. See, I don't love -all- Dracos. I just love some Dracos. This is one of them <3<3<3<3 Oh, *heart*. Also, I think I've just realized that I don't actually love my Draco, not when I take him seriously. :/ This might be a problem, come to think of it. But maybe one isn't supposed to take him seriously-- maybe he's best as a smirking sneering fool. I mean, it doesn't even feel like a question of being OOC. He's just... bleh. He has no charm, well, especially in angstfic. He's so... childish but not in a cute way. He's kinda cute in canon, but. Really, the best angstfic has a sense of humor, and the best Dracos are fools, crazy crazy freaky fools. My Draco seems to have perpetual indigestion or something. Bleh.
Actually, I think I still -can- write him 'cutely' (like... I'm thinking of the Draco/Zacharias I wrote for Maya), it's just... that feels like a waste of time or something.
On the other hand, it's a lot easier to write cute!Draco from Draco's own pov-- I think that's what I'm forgetting. Usually, cute!Draco fic isn't written from Harry's pov, unless it's Zahra. Hmmm. In which case there's a lot of boycrushing and denial going on, and my Harry is emphatically not in denial (though Draco is). Maybe I try too hard, though. It's just... my bond with them began with anger-- I only kind of... graduated to cuteness. I actually -enjoy- it more when it's not as heavy, so to speak, but then, I always want to 'deal' with things and... then it's just not so funny anymore. I feel like I can't ignore that, though I want to. I feel like... it's hard to love them like that, but if I don't, I'm cheating them somehow. I dunno.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-11 01:08 am (UTC)I think Harry's detachment at the beginning has a really surreal feel to it, but once Draco starts biting him, I can't buy the subconscious projection anymore. I refuse to buy it!
no subject
Date: 2004-09-11 01:19 am (UTC)Eeee. I'm just so happy you're willing to beta for me, you have no idea~:)) You have that rare combination of fair, literate & kind in terms of perceiving the intention along with the result, the method as well as the goal, in terms of fic reviewing/opinion. Warms the cockles of my bitter old fandom queen heart, it does >:D
*decides to keep you & friend you & call you George on Sundays* :))!!
I love the idea of Harry imagining Draco biting him, ahahahah though yah, it's a bit insane :D :D
no subject
Date: 2004-09-11 01:33 am (UTC)I read things very literally and feel rather inarticulate when trying to communicate subtlties of emotion in fic, and in my reaction to it. But, I will give an honest opinion and I can't wait to read your fic. :D
And no, you're not doing it wrong. I think you're probably doing it righter than the rest of us, actually. If words are flowing I wouldn't throw a wrench in it.