Author's Notes: Okay, so I wrote this cookie a while ago and posted it up on FAP, but I eventually decided I wanted it here, it's just a little drabble. It's from a scene that was supposed to be worked into Enternity, back around chapter two or three, but by then I had introduced a Draco and Harry that were widely different then this, so I instead worked this drabble to be mostly HBP compliant. And now here it is.
I might, one day, decide I can make a story from this, but chances are I won't. This is just a little scene that I liked so here it is.
Draco's world was a world of chains. He was chained in place, expected to be content with his position. He was chained to his family, to his blood. He was chained to the wizarding world. He was chained to the Dark Lord. There was no such thing as choice in Draco's world. No such thing as freedom of expectations. These chains were his burden from birth and would stay strong and true till death.
"Why don't you think for yourself?"
"I don't have that luxury."
Potter didn't understand Draco's world, and Draco didn't understand Potter's. Draco didn't understand a world where chains existed but didn't hold strong. He didn't understand a world where those who were bound could break free with only a few cuts and scrapes.
"What do you think?"
"My father –"
"I didn't ask you that. I asked what you thought."
Potter frightened him and fascinated him all at once. The boy savior was a hero and a villain, a saint and a sinner all in one package. He saved people by day, and enslaved Draco by night. He broke free of his own chains while chaining others to him.
"You don't have to always obey."
"I'm a pureblood, I don't have a choice."
"Yes you do. You could disobey."
When they meet, it's dark and always in the parts of the castle that people have forgotten about, pushed away so they can be alone. It doesn't surprise Draco anymore that Potter comes out of shadows in the walls with glowing green eyes. Potter's inhuman grace doesn't frighten him anymore. It's only when Potter suddenly has a noose around his throat that he realizes something that does frighten him: He trusts Potter.
"We can't do this."
"This. Whatever this is. We can't. I can't."
The noose is rough and he briefly wonders where Potter got the rope from. He can feel Potter's chest against his back and Potter giggles, breathless. The rope moves and the noose tightens around his throat, not enough to cut off his oxygen, but enough that he gasps. Potter's fingers caress his left forearm, over the very spot that the Dark Mark is branded as proof of his chained existence.
"You're fraternizing with the enemy, you know."
"I don't care."
"Do you have any concept of the idea of loyalty?"
"My loyalty is to my heart."
"Your neck isn't right for a noose, Draco." Potter whispers, as if talking to a lover. He should use that voice for the baby weasel, not him.
"This," his fingers caress his left forearm once more, "is a noose. Your neck isn't fit for a noose." Potter tightens the noose once more.
"I don't have a choice." Potter's lips brush against his cheek.
"You do. Look at me." Potter's eyes are glowing, as they often do in the dark. And looking at him, Draco realizes something. Potter is not someone living outside his world, is not someone without chains.
He is the tool used to break chains.
The chains that have bound him his whole life break away as Draco moves forward to kiss Potter's lips. The noose slips away.
So, there it is. It's really, really short and not connected to anything. I think this fic will be a collection of things like this - cookies, one-shots, and drabbles that don't belong anywhere.
In other news: I am working on Enternity. Just...calm down.