Author : LIZ
Email for feedback : ladyluckretired@hotmail.com
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: G
Summary : A dance in the dark to an old memorable song
Warnings
Notes: I hate songfics, and only included lyrics of the song because they explained what Draco couldn't. Website if any
Disclaimer : The characters are Jo Rowling's and were not an attempt by myself to infringe on copyright. I'm just playing with characters like they were wanton Barbie Dolls.
For Lack Of A Ballroom
by Liz
Moonlight fell on pale, milky skin wrapped in a dark gray wool turtleneck sweater and thin pinstriped slacks of the same color. Bare feet shifted softly over the hardwood floor, turning in place. Hair so blonde it was almost platinum was tucked behind delicate ears, out of the face of a beautiful boy with inquisitive silver eyes and a pouty mouth. His long, elegant hands rested on the hips of distressed-denim jeans, cuffed at the bottom over a pair of white socks. Against the scratchy texture of the wool rested a thin white t-shirt. Round
glasses glinted in the pale light from outside the open window to the room. Eyes of bright, breath-taking green were hidden behind glass lenses, blinking owlishly at the silver set. Unruly hair of deepest midnight was swept half-hazardly over a faintly scarred forehead. Harry and Draco were dancing together in the middle of the night; soft, swaying movements to the sound of the nightingale and the careless whipporwhills.
Draco whispered warm, moist words against Harry's waiting ear. "The band used to play from a platform against the wall opposing the entrance. The big windows behind them looked out over the grounds of
Malfoy Manor. Father always did insist on having a real band perform at his gatherings. For all the things he used magic as a substitute for, music was never one of them. Music is a magic of it's own, not to be tampered with by wands and wizards. There's nothing quite like the sound of violins in a ballroom, Harry. I wish you could have heard them. There would be an hour in which everyone was forced to dance, people whirling around the floor in circles and patterns. Women would wear extravagent, flowing gowns and men were in their finest robes, black and white in a sea of jade and fuschia. You would have loved to attend a ball, Harry."
Harry nodded in assent and rested his head on Draco's shoulder, breathing against the delicate curve where Draco's neck met his shoulder. A tremor ran up Draco's spine at the faint movement stirring against his skin. "What did they sound like, love?"
"They sounded like... I don't know how to explain it to you. The Yule Ball reminded me of the bands that used to play in the mansion."
"Sing a bit of it for me, then." Harry's eyes were fluttering shut. He was growing sleepy in the warm comfort of Draco's arms.
Draco hummed a few bars of a song he had frequently heard, one of his father's favorites. His mind drifted and a soft kiss on the neck from Harry reminded him of a song he'd heard long ago at one of the first balls he'd ever attended. "Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness wakes and stirs imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses. Helpless to resist the notes I write. For I compose the music of the night."
"That's beautiful, Draco." Harry kissed Draco's cheek, a seemingly childish gesture that tinted his lover's ears pink.
"Slowly, gently night unfurls it's splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Hearing is believing, music is decieving. Hard as lightning, soft as candle light. Dare you trust the music of the night?"
"What's that called?" Harry wondered aloud, gazing out the window.
"Music Of The Night. It's from a Muggle musical that my mother used to love. Written by a wizard, so my father allowed it. It used to be my lullabye."
The thought of a baby Draco being soothed by the silky melody made Harry smile. His lips were warmed by the feeling of another's against it, a soft kiss that Draco ended as soon as he started. Harry shut his eyes and smiled, a private smile that stirred something deep within Draco's heart. "For lack of a ballroom, our living room will do."
Outside the window, the Thames flowed quietly within it's banks and night passed through England. When daylight peered into the flat, it found Harry and Draco asleep on the soft beige couch in a tangle of arms, legs, and gentle smiles.
"Close your eyes and let the music set you free. Only then can you belong to me..."
-Fin