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slytherins dont hug

The House on Violet Hill - 1/?

Posted on 2008.07.05 at 20:14
Current Mood: crappyblegh
Current Music: violet hill - coldplay
Tags:
Title: The House on Violet Hill 1/?
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters.
Rating: PG (future chapters will rated R)
Pairing(s): Draco/Harry
Spoilers: All books.
Notes: For Dorra's birthday - hope it will meet your expectations!


Summary: Post-DH - Three years after the fall of Voldemort Draco lives a quiet life in the wilds of Scotland when Harry Potter has the audacity to collapse, bleeding, four feet from his tent.



A House on Violet Hill
Part One


Draco glanced out of his bedroom window and saw a man staggering through the haze of the blizzard, stumbling through the skeletons of trees. The figure moved through the cold as though pained, his shoulders curled in on ruined black robes and his left leg bent at the knee. Draco's head began to ache as he watched Harry Potter crumple in a heap four feet from his tent, his blood seeping pink into the snow.

He wondered if this were a trick, a test of his metal. After all, how likely was it that the twerp would end up bleeding all over Draco's hill? Nearly a full minute passed before he'd made his decision, and Potter had started shuddering violently by the time Draco cast a levicorpus and had him float through the flaps of his tent and into the living room. The fire roared in the grate and so he laid Potter before it, sprawled out on his great-grandmother's chaise lounge.

Two hours later Potter was still unconscious, and Draco was starting to worry. He had patched up the wounds as best he could – they were superficial for the most part, and once Potter had been stripped of his soaked robes and covered in furs, the shuddering had stopped. Still, he hadn't woken up. Disapparating in the dismal blizzard raging outside was out of the question, and Draco had no floo link to whisk Potter to St. Mungo's (nor much of a desire to, as he'd done a crack job of avoiding the wizarding community at large up until now). After a great deal of consideration he decided act like a Malfoy and accordingly, consult his mother.

"Yes, Draco?" she asked when he removed the velvet slip over her portrait. Her flat gaze unnerved him, and he tried to compose himself before answering.

"Harry Potter is bleeding in my living room, and if he dies it'll look like I did it, and the blizzard is terrible so I can't get help and should I just shove him back out into the snow and pretend I'd never found him?" Not quite the measured response he'd been going for.

Narcissa was so still she almost looked like one of the Muggle paintings he'd come across bonfires as a child. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy," she said in a dangerous voice, "have you murdered Harry Potter?" Before he could reply with appropriate incredulity (because, well, really), a well timed groan emitted from the next room. "Circe's bones, is that the boy? See to him!"

Draco obeyed, moving quickly back to the living room, pausing at the entrance when Potter stirred and groaned again. The heat was almost cloying now, the air thick with it. "Is it too hot?" He found himself asking the figure sketched in firelight and furs. "Are you feverish?" There was no reply, so he moved and placed a hand gingerly on Potter's forehead – he was slick with sweat, his eyes open and black as coals. Poison, of course, because the Fates had decided that Draco hadn't yet earned a quiet life.

"Potter? Potter? Oh, for fuck's sake Potter, do try to pay attention," he said loudly, moving so his face hovered over the other boy's. "What are you poisoned with?" Potter's eyes were rolling back into his head, his mouth slack. Draco slapped him. Possibly a bit harder than absolutely necessary. "Come on," he growled, "I'm not ready to go to Azkaban for killing you just yet. POTTER!"

Another slap. His eyelids fluttered and Draco placed his ear just above Potter's lips in time to hear a single rasp of a word. "Aconite."

"Right," Draco said, moving swiftly to his potions cabinet. After a slightly panicked scramble he found a bezoar and shoved it unceremoniously into Potter's gob. After an agonizing pause, Potter's waxen skin began to flush a more normal colour, and his constricted breathing eased. Draco eyed him warily, summoning a cloth dipped in snow to lie across Potter's forehead.

"Now what?" He asked his mother's portrait irritably, after pouring himself a goblet of sherry to calm his nerves.

"You are sure you had nothing to do with this, Draco? It's all quite a coincidence," Narcissa repeated, glancing disapprovingly at his glass.

"Yes, I'm sure. Unless I attacked him without my noticing," he said tersely.

"Then make him comfortable until he regains his wits – what he had of them, anyway. He can decide whether he wants to go to St. Mungo's. If you drag him in yourself, poisoned and delirious he might accuse you, and it's not as though our good name would stand to scrutiny in this … delicate situation." Narcissa paused, frowning with distaste when Draco downed the remaining sherry. "And that will hardly help."

Draco rolled his eyes and slipped the cover back over the painting, laying it in the lower compartment of his clothes chest. His mother's portrait spent most of her time visiting his father's, hung high above the mantle in Malfoy manor, collecting dust. Before his parents had died he'd thought the business of portraits perfectly natural but now it seemed rather macabre.

He went on a search for the Aldrich Ivan's Compendium of Ills and was rewarded with a chapter dedicated to the care of the recently poisoned. He was tempted to leave the book open by Potter's limp form and hope for the best but the image of being hauled to Azkaban forced him into his study to brew a Replenishment potion.

He returned to the living room with a blistered finger and in a truly foul mood, only to be greeted by the hero of the wizarding world raving about Death Eaters, stark bollock naked and quite possibly mad. His hair was in a wild tangle and his teeth were bared, his body taught and lean, shining with sweat and blood from a reopened wound. Draco was (mortifyingly) so caught up in the bizarre image that it took him a moment to realise that in absence of a wand Potter was wielding an umbrella, and the picture of savagery was ruined. It wasn't sensible to aggravate Potter (as he was clearly insane) but the sherry, the shock and the nudity went to his head and ten-year-old Draco emerged, leaving him howling with laughter.

Apparently, the reaction was not one Potter was expecting and he lowered the umbrella a fraction, pulling the furs up his body to approximate decency. "Mmmalfoy?!" he slurred, squinting in the yellow light of the fire. After several attempts at speaking, a few deep breaths curbed Draco's case of mild hysteria and he managed to speak without snorting.

"I found you outside, in the snow," he said slowly, as though talking to a child. A stupid one.

"Where!?" He stumbled in an attempt to walk, the umbrella cluttering to the floor. "Where am I?" he asked, grimacing as he grabbed at the mantle to steady himself.

"You're in my home," Draco said curtly. "Feel free to piss off at any time."

TBC

Comments:


aubergineautumn at 2008-07-05 20:10 (UTC) (Link)
wielding an umbrella- I liked that image!
dragley
dragley at 2008-07-06 09:42 (UTC) (Link)
thank you, I'm glad you liked it :)
Carla!
utteramusement at 2008-07-05 20:55 (UTC) (Link)
*is intrigued*

I'm bummed Narcissa and Lucius are dead, but her portrait was a close enough copy for me to love!^^

The umbrella! xD Borrowed from Hagrid I'm guessing? or is he really hallucinating?
dragley
dragley at 2008-07-06 09:44 (UTC) (Link)
I'm glad you weren't too put off by them being dead :) Thanks!
martinstjohn
martinstjohn at 2008-07-06 01:10 (UTC) (Link)
okay, this story looks like it's going to go places, its well crafted, good use of characters... very hopeful.
dragley
dragley at 2008-07-06 09:44 (UTC) (Link)
thank you! there will be more soon, so I hope it does go places :)
suonguyen
suonguyen at 2008-07-06 04:52 (UTC) (Link)
LOL I love portrait Narcissa! So far so good!
dragley
dragley at 2008-07-06 09:45 (UTC) (Link)
Ha thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it!
Voldemoo
frantic_mice at 2008-07-06 22:42 (UTC) (Link)
Hi! I've added you in hopes of reading more. I hope you don't mind, thanks. <3
dragley
dragley at 2008-07-06 22:47 (UTC) (Link)
Of course i don't mind! Thanks for taking an interest. btw - awesome icon :)
trichinopoly ash
aldehyde at 2008-07-08 18:35 (UTC) (Link)
raving about naked with an umbrella! that would bring out the 10 yr old in me as well ;)

intriguing start, and love the title of the story, hee. fellow coldplay fan, i assume? update soon!
thrnbrooke
thrnbrooke at 2008-07-10 20:57 (UTC) (Link)
Oh I sooo need more! But why is Draco living in a tent?
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