[Fic:] Make you come home (Part 5/9)
Aug. 6th, 2018 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smirkingcatTitle: Make you come home (5/9)
Author :smirkingcat
Rating:PG-13
Word Count :1.011
Notes: used forhd_birthdaybash bingo card: picture square: “white owl” (i am not sure if it is a cake or a DIY but i took it as that)
Summary: Waiting is horrible, not knowing for how long you have to wait makes things even worse.
Warnings: angst – because you know this is me writing it
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Draco got up that evening with too little sleep. But couldn’t sleep longer. He had so many things to tell his mother, to ask how she is doing, how their home is holding up... how his father was holding up.
And so he got up made a pot of tea and started to wait for Potter’s return.
Three pots of tea later and five minutes before he absolutely had to go Potter was still a no-show.
Draco was sieving with anger and betrayal. Potter had said he would come back that evening! He came by most of the evenings anyway. So why would he not drop by the one evening he said he would?
Draco spoke less than usual during work. That together with his mood-shifts from raging anger to anxious worry about what possible could all have happened to Potter made even the most sturdy of his colleges moving out of his way. And leaving him alone to do some of the more obscure tasks.
Potter also did not come by the day after, nor the day after that.
Draco started to less worry about Potter’s whereabouts and more about his own.
Sure, Potter never told him in advance when he would drop in and annoy him, and he rarely talked about work, except for some small tales of heroism by the Weasel. But if Potter said he would come by he usually did. So the conclusion was, something must have happened.
There were many scenarios for what could happen to one Harry Potter, hero of everything and everyone but himself, but those would not help Draco in anyway. There were only three possible out-comes, which would impact his life.
The first one was the easiest and equally likely and unlikely to have happened: Potter was dead.
That would mean someone else would have to take on his parole. No matter who that would be, that person was certain to make things more difficult for him. What if he was demanded to go to the Ministry for his meetings? With his schedule and the fact that his magic was blocked ... he would not think about that now, but only if he must.
Potter could also be injured or on a mission. Injured with the outcome of possibility one was easy dealt with. But was about injured and in coma? Would that lead to essentially the same outcome as his demise? And how soon? What if he recovers later on?
And then there was injured or sick just for a few weeks, months. In which Potter’s recoveries was certain, just not right now. The Ministry was more than unlikely to react in such a case.
And finally Potter could also be on an away or under-cover mission. This per se had no outcome not included in possibility one or two, but it meant that whatever the outcome was, it might take months before Draco would know. Months before he would be able to use his present.
Draco was not a patient man.
His father used to say: ”A man who is a master of patience, is a master of everything else.“
His father also had the patience of a rock if he wanted a certain outcome and knew how to get it. Draco had admired that about him, but he had learned early on, that patience was not a virtue that came to him easily, if it came at all.
And yes all his life seemed to be one big test of patience.
Draco huffed at his tea, as he sat down on is sofa. Either he was ill-suited for his life, or his life was ill-suited for him. One of these two statements was true. Not that it mattered whcih one, because in the end it still sucked for him.
It was his night off, which usually he spent with Potter, playing one of the strange games his co-workers mentioned. It was a game itself, to get Potter to bring the game. He would mention the game, the stupidity of it all, and how boring muggle games must be. And then Potter would say he ”shouldn’t knock it until he tried it.“ And He would ask Potter, how he was meant to try it, since he does not see the benefit of wasting his hard earned money like that. Which finally leads to game-nights on his nights off.
But no Potter means no games, and he had not thought of going out and getting a book, so useless brooding was what it was going to be.
It was already into the wee-hours as an insisted tapping on his window disturbed Draco’s circling thoughts. It startled Draco so much, that he needed a moment to figure why that noise was familiar in any way.
When he let in the tiny snowy owl, he was more than just confused.
He knew for a fact that he was untraceable by magic and that now owls could fine him. He also knew that Potter did not as of yet got a new owl, because he somehow never managed to get over the loss of his first owl. Which in a way Draco understood.
There was a small letter attached o the owl, which in a handwriting he had never seen, but was giving Potter’s chicken scratch a run was written: ”Harry is ok. He will come by once things are resolved. Don’t do anything stupid, there is enough going on already. Just stay low, so this can blow over. RW.“
For a moment Draco had difficulty to figure out who RW could be, until he remembered that the Weasel had a first name too.
Well, at least now he knew. Not that there was apparently anything for him to know, but he could finally go on with his routine. Laying low and not doing anything stupid had become his life. He could do that. No problem at all.
And who was he to worry anyway.... Potter was neither his friend, nor anything other than his parole auror. This was perfectly fine. Really!
Part 6
Author :
smirkingcatRating:PG-13
Word Count :1.011
Notes: used for
hd_birthdaybash bingo card: picture square: “white owl” (i am not sure if it is a cake or a DIY but i took it as that)Summary: Waiting is horrible, not knowing for how long you have to wait makes things even worse.
Warnings: angst – because you know this is me writing it
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Draco got up that evening with too little sleep. But couldn’t sleep longer. He had so many things to tell his mother, to ask how she is doing, how their home is holding up... how his father was holding up.
And so he got up made a pot of tea and started to wait for Potter’s return.
Three pots of tea later and five minutes before he absolutely had to go Potter was still a no-show.
Draco was sieving with anger and betrayal. Potter had said he would come back that evening! He came by most of the evenings anyway. So why would he not drop by the one evening he said he would?
Draco spoke less than usual during work. That together with his mood-shifts from raging anger to anxious worry about what possible could all have happened to Potter made even the most sturdy of his colleges moving out of his way. And leaving him alone to do some of the more obscure tasks.
Potter also did not come by the day after, nor the day after that.
Draco started to less worry about Potter’s whereabouts and more about his own.
Sure, Potter never told him in advance when he would drop in and annoy him, and he rarely talked about work, except for some small tales of heroism by the Weasel. But if Potter said he would come by he usually did. So the conclusion was, something must have happened.
There were many scenarios for what could happen to one Harry Potter, hero of everything and everyone but himself, but those would not help Draco in anyway. There were only three possible out-comes, which would impact his life.
The first one was the easiest and equally likely and unlikely to have happened: Potter was dead.
That would mean someone else would have to take on his parole. No matter who that would be, that person was certain to make things more difficult for him. What if he was demanded to go to the Ministry for his meetings? With his schedule and the fact that his magic was blocked ... he would not think about that now, but only if he must.
Potter could also be injured or on a mission. Injured with the outcome of possibility one was easy dealt with. But was about injured and in coma? Would that lead to essentially the same outcome as his demise? And how soon? What if he recovers later on?
And then there was injured or sick just for a few weeks, months. In which Potter’s recoveries was certain, just not right now. The Ministry was more than unlikely to react in such a case.
And finally Potter could also be on an away or under-cover mission. This per se had no outcome not included in possibility one or two, but it meant that whatever the outcome was, it might take months before Draco would know. Months before he would be able to use his present.
Draco was not a patient man.
His father used to say: ”A man who is a master of patience, is a master of everything else.“
His father also had the patience of a rock if he wanted a certain outcome and knew how to get it. Draco had admired that about him, but he had learned early on, that patience was not a virtue that came to him easily, if it came at all.
And yes all his life seemed to be one big test of patience.
Draco huffed at his tea, as he sat down on is sofa. Either he was ill-suited for his life, or his life was ill-suited for him. One of these two statements was true. Not that it mattered whcih one, because in the end it still sucked for him.
It was his night off, which usually he spent with Potter, playing one of the strange games his co-workers mentioned. It was a game itself, to get Potter to bring the game. He would mention the game, the stupidity of it all, and how boring muggle games must be. And then Potter would say he ”shouldn’t knock it until he tried it.“ And He would ask Potter, how he was meant to try it, since he does not see the benefit of wasting his hard earned money like that. Which finally leads to game-nights on his nights off.
But no Potter means no games, and he had not thought of going out and getting a book, so useless brooding was what it was going to be.
It was already into the wee-hours as an insisted tapping on his window disturbed Draco’s circling thoughts. It startled Draco so much, that he needed a moment to figure why that noise was familiar in any way.
When he let in the tiny snowy owl, he was more than just confused.
He knew for a fact that he was untraceable by magic and that now owls could fine him. He also knew that Potter did not as of yet got a new owl, because he somehow never managed to get over the loss of his first owl. Which in a way Draco understood.
There was a small letter attached o the owl, which in a handwriting he had never seen, but was giving Potter’s chicken scratch a run was written: ”Harry is ok. He will come by once things are resolved. Don’t do anything stupid, there is enough going on already. Just stay low, so this can blow over. RW.“
For a moment Draco had difficulty to figure out who RW could be, until he remembered that the Weasel had a first name too.
Well, at least now he knew. Not that there was apparently anything for him to know, but he could finally go on with his routine. Laying low and not doing anything stupid had become his life. He could do that. No problem at all.
And who was he to worry anyway.... Potter was neither his friend, nor anything other than his parole auror. This was perfectly fine. Really!
Part 6
