Prompt 73 - Rope - "Tinsel and Truth" - ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spikespetslayer - Harry
Dec. 15th, 2007 11:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
dedra.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Tinsel and Truth
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: On a cold winter's night, the only thing that separates them is strands of tinsel and years of hatred.
Malfoy shook his head from side to side to clear his vision. He tried to move his arms without success. Looking down, he saw that they were tied to the arms of a chair with silver and gold tinsel. Who in their right mind would use tinsel as a substitute for rope?
The obviously insane person was pacing in front of the fireplace, wringing her hands as she looked at him occasionally with a worried frown. Her wand protruded from her robe pocket as she paced, bobbing up and down with each step that she took.
“What in the world should I do? Perhaps I should floo Harry and Ron—they’re Aurors, they know the ins and outs of the system. Why did he show up? What does he want?”
“Granger, maybe you should be asking me that instead of asking your hands.” He smirked when she turned around, her eyes wide and searching. “I don’t have a wand, if you’re wondering. Why did you stupefy me when I knocked on the door?”
She walked slightly closer to him and looked down at him from her advantage. “You’re a Death Eater, Malfoy—you tried to kill Dumbledore and…and everything!”
He had never seen the fussy swot at a loss for words so this was a rare treat for him. “So you shoot me down with a hex and tie me to a chair with tinsel? Merlin’s sake, Granger, you could have conjured some proper rope, couldn’t you?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I was decorating the house for Christmas and improvised, okay?”
Malfoy graced her with a wicked grin. “Face it, Granger, you panicked. It’s all right—we all panic at one time or another.”
Her eyes narrowed and he could almost see the stick that inserted itself into her arse, stiffening her spine and drawing her to her full height. “I did not panic, Malfoy. Improvisation is not panic, it’s creativity. What do you want, anyway? Were you going to kill me?”
He twisted in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. “Not at all, Granger. If you’ll look in my right hand coat pocket, you’ll have all the answers that you need.”
She withdrew her wand from her robe pocket and pointed it under his chin. With her free hand she patted the outside of his robes and found the pocket in question, then stuck her hand inside to grasp the items within.
She withdrew her hand and found a letter and a box in her palm. “They’re shrunken. Cast the counter spell and open them.”
She waved her wand and mouthed the counter spell, watching closely for tricks as the box grew larger in her hand until she had to set it down on the table beside her. The envelope grew only slightly and she saw her name written on the outside in elegant script. “What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s for you, Granger. Open it.” Malfoy eased back in the chair, looking like he was seated there by choice and had all the time in the world.
She broke the seal on the envelope and read quickly and silently, her eyes growing wide with the import of the words therein. He watched her closely, waiting to see what she would say after she finished the letter.
Her mouth tightened and she snapped the letter shut, shoving it violently back into the envelope. “What’s the meaning of this, Malfoy?” she said.
“Exactly what it says. I’m sorry for years of bad behavior and prejudice and I wanted to attempt to make amends. It’s part of my Ministry required program of rehabilitation.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless.
“Really, Granger. Would you like to use Veritaserum? I’m sure that a potions whiz like you would be able to whip some up pretty quickly if you needed to.”
She smirked at him and walked over to a cabinet. She extracted a small bottle and sidled back over to stand in front of him. As she twisted the cork out of the bottle, she nodded toward him. “You know the drill. Stick out your tongue.”
Obediently, he extended his tongue and she dropped two drops of the potion on the wiggling pink muscle. She went back to the cabinet and replaced the bottle, then walked back to sit on the couch opposite his chair, her wand resting on her lap. “What is your name?”
“Draco Abraxas Lucius Malfoy.”
“Okay. Interesting choices for middle names. Okay then—why did you do all those horrible things in sixth year?”
His face twisted into a grimace as his eyes blazed with anger, but he had no choice but to answer. “I was trying to protect my mother. Lord Voldemort told me that if I failed my task, my mother would be given to the Death Eaters as a toy, then executed. I knew that she couldn’t have lived through the shame of being used by those animals so I did everything I could to try and complete my assignment.”
“Why are you here tonight?”
He grimaced again but was unable to fight off the pull of the potion to tell the whole truth. “I wanted to see you, Granger. I knew that you had broken it off with the weasel and wanted to see if you were as beautiful as you were when we were in school.”
Her mouth O’ed in surprise, but she quickly recovered. “Why did you treat me like dirt all those years?”
“I couldn’t act on the feelings that I had for you so I suppressed them and spurned you to keep myself from doing something that would get us both killed.”
“What’s in the box?”
“A gift for you. Something that I know you would like.”
“It isn’t rigged or hexed, is it?”
“No. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
With a touch of her wand, the wrapping fell away to reveal a large, old book. Its cover was leather that was flaking and cracked with age; the gilt limning the edges of the pages was faded with time and use, whole areas completely bare where fingers had lingered and flipped through them rapidly.
When she looked inside the cover, she gasped at the inscription on the flyleaf. “To Malfinnus Malfoy for services rendered to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, December 1289. Malfoy, this is a first edition of ‘Hogwarts: A History’. I can’t accept this.”
“Why not? It’s not like anyone in my family ever reads the bloody thing. I know that you love that book and I want you to have it.”
“Why?”
Squirming in his chair, Malfoy looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Please don’t ask me that.”
“Why do you want me to have this particular book, Malfoy?”
“Because giving it to you gives me great pleasure and I want you to know that I really am sorry for all the pain that I caused you throughout our years at school. I could have been—we could have been so much different but I refused to be myself. I don’t know if I was even given the choice if things would have been different, but I would like to think that you and I could have been friends—or something more.” His head dropped to his chest, hiding his emotions that had shown unbidden in his eyes.
With a wave of her wand, Hermione removed the tinsel that held him fast to the chair. She stood and looked down at his bowed head, mulling over the truths that had spilled from his lips.
She slipped out of the room and quickly prepared tea for two, setting it on a tray with biscuits and some leftover pudding. With a small smile, she carried it back in to the lounge. Malfoy was sitting where she left him in exactly the same position, his chin on his chest.
“Would you like some tea—Draco?” she asked, setting the tray on the table between them.
His head shot upward, his eyes brimming with hope. She couldn’t help the pleasurable feelings that shot through her when he smiled at her for the first time, a true smile that held no malice. “Certainly—Hermione.”
It wasn’t much; it was only tea on a cold December night. Still, it felt like a beginning for both of them. For her, it was the beginning of a friendship. For him, the beginning of a new life.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: On a cold winter's night, the only thing that separates them is strands of tinsel and years of hatred.
Malfoy shook his head from side to side to clear his vision. He tried to move his arms without success. Looking down, he saw that they were tied to the arms of a chair with silver and gold tinsel. Who in their right mind would use tinsel as a substitute for rope?
The obviously insane person was pacing in front of the fireplace, wringing her hands as she looked at him occasionally with a worried frown. Her wand protruded from her robe pocket as she paced, bobbing up and down with each step that she took.
“What in the world should I do? Perhaps I should floo Harry and Ron—they’re Aurors, they know the ins and outs of the system. Why did he show up? What does he want?”
“Granger, maybe you should be asking me that instead of asking your hands.” He smirked when she turned around, her eyes wide and searching. “I don’t have a wand, if you’re wondering. Why did you stupefy me when I knocked on the door?”
She walked slightly closer to him and looked down at him from her advantage. “You’re a Death Eater, Malfoy—you tried to kill Dumbledore and…and everything!”
He had never seen the fussy swot at a loss for words so this was a rare treat for him. “So you shoot me down with a hex and tie me to a chair with tinsel? Merlin’s sake, Granger, you could have conjured some proper rope, couldn’t you?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I was decorating the house for Christmas and improvised, okay?”
Malfoy graced her with a wicked grin. “Face it, Granger, you panicked. It’s all right—we all panic at one time or another.”
Her eyes narrowed and he could almost see the stick that inserted itself into her arse, stiffening her spine and drawing her to her full height. “I did not panic, Malfoy. Improvisation is not panic, it’s creativity. What do you want, anyway? Were you going to kill me?”
He twisted in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. “Not at all, Granger. If you’ll look in my right hand coat pocket, you’ll have all the answers that you need.”
She withdrew her wand from her robe pocket and pointed it under his chin. With her free hand she patted the outside of his robes and found the pocket in question, then stuck her hand inside to grasp the items within.
She withdrew her hand and found a letter and a box in her palm. “They’re shrunken. Cast the counter spell and open them.”
She waved her wand and mouthed the counter spell, watching closely for tricks as the box grew larger in her hand until she had to set it down on the table beside her. The envelope grew only slightly and she saw her name written on the outside in elegant script. “What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s for you, Granger. Open it.” Malfoy eased back in the chair, looking like he was seated there by choice and had all the time in the world.
She broke the seal on the envelope and read quickly and silently, her eyes growing wide with the import of the words therein. He watched her closely, waiting to see what she would say after she finished the letter.
Her mouth tightened and she snapped the letter shut, shoving it violently back into the envelope. “What’s the meaning of this, Malfoy?” she said.
“Exactly what it says. I’m sorry for years of bad behavior and prejudice and I wanted to attempt to make amends. It’s part of my Ministry required program of rehabilitation.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless.
“Really, Granger. Would you like to use Veritaserum? I’m sure that a potions whiz like you would be able to whip some up pretty quickly if you needed to.”
She smirked at him and walked over to a cabinet. She extracted a small bottle and sidled back over to stand in front of him. As she twisted the cork out of the bottle, she nodded toward him. “You know the drill. Stick out your tongue.”
Obediently, he extended his tongue and she dropped two drops of the potion on the wiggling pink muscle. She went back to the cabinet and replaced the bottle, then walked back to sit on the couch opposite his chair, her wand resting on her lap. “What is your name?”
“Draco Abraxas Lucius Malfoy.”
“Okay. Interesting choices for middle names. Okay then—why did you do all those horrible things in sixth year?”
His face twisted into a grimace as his eyes blazed with anger, but he had no choice but to answer. “I was trying to protect my mother. Lord Voldemort told me that if I failed my task, my mother would be given to the Death Eaters as a toy, then executed. I knew that she couldn’t have lived through the shame of being used by those animals so I did everything I could to try and complete my assignment.”
“Why are you here tonight?”
He grimaced again but was unable to fight off the pull of the potion to tell the whole truth. “I wanted to see you, Granger. I knew that you had broken it off with the weasel and wanted to see if you were as beautiful as you were when we were in school.”
Her mouth O’ed in surprise, but she quickly recovered. “Why did you treat me like dirt all those years?”
“I couldn’t act on the feelings that I had for you so I suppressed them and spurned you to keep myself from doing something that would get us both killed.”
“What’s in the box?”
“A gift for you. Something that I know you would like.”
“It isn’t rigged or hexed, is it?”
“No. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
With a touch of her wand, the wrapping fell away to reveal a large, old book. Its cover was leather that was flaking and cracked with age; the gilt limning the edges of the pages was faded with time and use, whole areas completely bare where fingers had lingered and flipped through them rapidly.
When she looked inside the cover, she gasped at the inscription on the flyleaf. “To Malfinnus Malfoy for services rendered to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, December 1289. Malfoy, this is a first edition of ‘Hogwarts: A History’. I can’t accept this.”
“Why not? It’s not like anyone in my family ever reads the bloody thing. I know that you love that book and I want you to have it.”
“Why?”
Squirming in his chair, Malfoy looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Please don’t ask me that.”
“Why do you want me to have this particular book, Malfoy?”
“Because giving it to you gives me great pleasure and I want you to know that I really am sorry for all the pain that I caused you throughout our years at school. I could have been—we could have been so much different but I refused to be myself. I don’t know if I was even given the choice if things would have been different, but I would like to think that you and I could have been friends—or something more.” His head dropped to his chest, hiding his emotions that had shown unbidden in his eyes.
With a wave of her wand, Hermione removed the tinsel that held him fast to the chair. She stood and looked down at his bowed head, mulling over the truths that had spilled from his lips.
She slipped out of the room and quickly prepared tea for two, setting it on a tray with biscuits and some leftover pudding. With a small smile, she carried it back in to the lounge. Malfoy was sitting where she left him in exactly the same position, his chin on his chest.
“Would you like some tea—Draco?” she asked, setting the tray on the table between them.
His head shot upward, his eyes brimming with hope. She couldn’t help the pleasurable feelings that shot through her when he smiled at her for the first time, a true smile that held no malice. “Certainly—Hermione.”
It wasn’t much; it was only tea on a cold December night. Still, it felt like a beginning for both of them. For her, it was the beginning of a friendship. For him, the beginning of a new life.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-16 10:38 pm (UTC)His head shot upward, his eyes brimming with hope. I really felt for him here, hon.
Nice job.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-17 10:04 am (UTC)Thank you, Steph! :D
no subject
Date: 2008-03-27 05:26 am (UTC)Can I have it? and more like it ?
Pretty please? with sugar on top *pleading look thrown in for good measure..*
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or is download them...?
Kimmy