Waltz of the Fireflies

By spheeris1

Pairing: light Draco/Harry

Warnings/Notes: Draco POV, angst, father-son issues, introspective poetry

Inspired by words and Kim Richey

Sometimes you do not need magic. Sometimes life presents you with a beauty all of its' own.

And you stand amazed at the light as it hits you.

The shuddering of sunlight dying, watching dusky blue take over.

Impending night.

And it keeps you frozen in awe.

And you lightly finger your wand in your hand.

Wishing you could create a sunset like that one.

Hoping that whispered curses and Latin phrases can save you…

In the end, in the end.

Eyes trained to see far away see dancing points of yellow light.

Around you, above you.

Some reckless part of you wants to catch one.

Holding the beacon of miniscule warmth to your palm,

Basking in the glory of this world.

It seems so childish.

This desire….to hold something precious

In your hands and feel happiness.

Like holding onto a man's hand down a dark alleyway.

It is safety in the dark.

And no monsters can sink claws into you.

Until the monster is that man.

And you cannot run away,

For he taught you not to.

His voice cuts sharp into your nighttime respite.

So smooth and cold, like ice over a pond.

You remember wanting to touch

His hair, to run your fingers through shimmering blond.

And tiny fingers got smacked away.

Coming back red.

You never did that again.

But now you smile. One tiny firefly hovers before you,

Exploring your eyes in the sudden darkness.

And you reach out and it backs away.

Breath comes back to your lungs. You did not know that

You were holding back the air.

Holding back the fear

Of the inevitable.

Of being turned away by simple beauty.

Like touching the cords in his neck, watching

Them move in candlelight.

Muscles under pale skin, slow and imagined

Movements of a dream you had

Long ago.

Dreams of baring yourself to someone

You despise in the daytime.

And they back away.

Dance away.

Taking the light, taking the warmth.

And you raise your wand,

Catching visions of your ghostly arm in the moonlight.

You speak the words clearly.

And each light goes out.

END