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hp_shoreofangstTitle: Last Dance – First Dance
Author:smirkingcat
Rating: PG
Prompt: Self-Prompt
Pairing: Draco/Harry; Past: Severus/Draco
Era (Time it plays if you want to state): after the war
Word Count: 735
Content/Warning(s): none I can think of – maybe open ended
Summary: It was promised, and so it happens.
Author's Note: It is just a small thing, but I hope you will enjoy it. All my thanks to my beta f who made it so much better than it was.
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.
He walked onto the dancefloor as if this was his feast. He looked stunning in his light blue dress robes that had a tint of silver to them, making them seem like liquid metal. Nobody had expected him here, nobody thought he would dare to come, and yet he was here.
And as the orchestra started to play the traditional Viennese Waltz, he lifted his arms and danced around the floor with his eyes closed.
Harry watched from the shadows.
He had known this would happen, because Snape had predicted it, had shared it with him. And yet, seeing it happening right before his eyes, hearing the whispers of all the others, not knowing, never knowing, how much pain, how much longing and love they were presented with
“Don’t let him fall. He may not mean much to you, but he means the world to me, and his sacrifice will never be known.” Snape's thoughts still echoed in his mind. It was a command he intended to obey, because he knew he was the only one who knew.
But it was too early. He still danced in rhythm with the music, the movements long and precise, and it was so easy for Harry to see Severus right there moving with him, making both of their robes swish with every step. They would have looked magnificent together. They would have been the envy of everybody, but neither of them would have noticed it, because for them only they existed.
Harry moved slowly in the background, counting the steps and the turns, because he could see the first flaws in the movements, the stride losing its spring. The illusion slowly tearing.
And it was then, when the first falter happened, that Harry took his hand and stepped up, turning them the other way, leading in a new direction.
After the war, everybody had expected one thing or the other from him, but all he had done was move into a muggle flat and start an intense muggle dance course. Back then he had less than a year to nail the waltz, and his teacher had not been impressed with his body coordination or his posture. It had taken months just to manage the simple waltz, to not mess up the turns, to not fuck up the length of the steps. But the Viennese Waltz, as it did a cross rotation and a step that moved the two bodies in a sort of wave, was a whole different story. His body had been aching for nearly half a year before the movement felt natural.
And then the training had gotten more gruesome, because knowing the steps and having the technique to lead a good dancer were two different things. But he had to lead. Because Severus never did. And he could never replace Severus for him, but he could be here, he could understand. As Severus said, they still had a life ahead of them.
Wide eyes were staring up at him as they took the second turn, fingers trembling in his, teeth gnawing on the lip to keep from crying.
And Harry just moved. He had no idea what he looked like, no idea what they looked like together, but they should all stare. This was them celebrating the defeat of Voldemort, and mourning the friends and loved ones they had lost, the future that would never come, the promises that could not be fulfilled.
“What are you doing?” the question was whispered, but the step never faltered. Now that Harry had proven he did indeed know how to dance, his partner had become even more pliable.
“Fulfilling a promise for someone who had to give up on it, so that many other promises can be made and fulfilled,” he answered softly.
Dancing here felt so different than in class. It felt better. For the first time, he felt the pure relief of a war that was over, the sadness that he had lost so much, but also the knowledge that he had won so much more.
“Severus,” his partner whispered, and this time the tears started to fall. “He sent you? How? Why? Why you?”
The questions where nearly inaudible, but Harry understood them. He refused to answer them. He shook his in a slow, miniscule movement.
“Let's just enjoy the dance first. The rest, the future, can wait,” he said and lead into another crossturn.
Read on Ao3
Author:
smirkingcatRating: PG
Prompt: Self-Prompt
Pairing: Draco/Harry; Past: Severus/Draco
Era (Time it plays if you want to state): after the war
Word Count: 735
Content/Warning(s): none I can think of – maybe open ended
Summary: It was promised, and so it happens.
Author's Note: It is just a small thing, but I hope you will enjoy it. All my thanks to my beta f who made it so much better than it was.
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.
He walked onto the dancefloor as if this was his feast. He looked stunning in his light blue dress robes that had a tint of silver to them, making them seem like liquid metal. Nobody had expected him here, nobody thought he would dare to come, and yet he was here.
And as the orchestra started to play the traditional Viennese Waltz, he lifted his arms and danced around the floor with his eyes closed.
Harry watched from the shadows.
He had known this would happen, because Snape had predicted it, had shared it with him. And yet, seeing it happening right before his eyes, hearing the whispers of all the others, not knowing, never knowing, how much pain, how much longing and love they were presented with
“Don’t let him fall. He may not mean much to you, but he means the world to me, and his sacrifice will never be known.” Snape's thoughts still echoed in his mind. It was a command he intended to obey, because he knew he was the only one who knew.
But it was too early. He still danced in rhythm with the music, the movements long and precise, and it was so easy for Harry to see Severus right there moving with him, making both of their robes swish with every step. They would have looked magnificent together. They would have been the envy of everybody, but neither of them would have noticed it, because for them only they existed.
Harry moved slowly in the background, counting the steps and the turns, because he could see the first flaws in the movements, the stride losing its spring. The illusion slowly tearing.
And it was then, when the first falter happened, that Harry took his hand and stepped up, turning them the other way, leading in a new direction.
After the war, everybody had expected one thing or the other from him, but all he had done was move into a muggle flat and start an intense muggle dance course. Back then he had less than a year to nail the waltz, and his teacher had not been impressed with his body coordination or his posture. It had taken months just to manage the simple waltz, to not mess up the turns, to not fuck up the length of the steps. But the Viennese Waltz, as it did a cross rotation and a step that moved the two bodies in a sort of wave, was a whole different story. His body had been aching for nearly half a year before the movement felt natural.
And then the training had gotten more gruesome, because knowing the steps and having the technique to lead a good dancer were two different things. But he had to lead. Because Severus never did. And he could never replace Severus for him, but he could be here, he could understand. As Severus said, they still had a life ahead of them.
Wide eyes were staring up at him as they took the second turn, fingers trembling in his, teeth gnawing on the lip to keep from crying.
And Harry just moved. He had no idea what he looked like, no idea what they looked like together, but they should all stare. This was them celebrating the defeat of Voldemort, and mourning the friends and loved ones they had lost, the future that would never come, the promises that could not be fulfilled.
“What are you doing?” the question was whispered, but the step never faltered. Now that Harry had proven he did indeed know how to dance, his partner had become even more pliable.
“Fulfilling a promise for someone who had to give up on it, so that many other promises can be made and fulfilled,” he answered softly.
Dancing here felt so different than in class. It felt better. For the first time, he felt the pure relief of a war that was over, the sadness that he had lost so much, but also the knowledge that he had won so much more.
“Severus,” his partner whispered, and this time the tears started to fall. “He sent you? How? Why? Why you?”
The questions where nearly inaudible, but Harry understood them. He refused to answer them. He shook his in a slow, miniscule movement.
“Let's just enjoy the dance first. The rest, the future, can wait,” he said and lead into another crossturn.
Read on Ao3
