hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-10-09 10:58 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-10-09 10:58 am
lar is a goddess. really.
1. In continuing with the Ryan-love, Lar also revamped my blog. She amazes me with her capacity for giving one minute and evilness the next (she’s trying to lure me to Firefly). Long live Lar.
2. Hope made me my very first piece of story fanart (not including the site that Lar built). She rocks so hard y’all should take cover.
I’m trying something different
Finale: The Options
+++
Option A
Death looks a lot better on Draco than he thought it would.
Of course, potential and actuality never seem to measure up. One always falls short of the other as do all possibilities that never reach fruition.
Draco will never grow old. He will never again play Quidditch or drink butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks – not that he had been welcome there in some time, but it’s the principle of the thing. Draco likes his principles – and his ego, and his pride and his looks - but they have only gotten him here.
His future is a route that has been cut off, and now all Draco’s missed alternatives taunt him with glowing lights of promise that are more painful than the broken bones and labouring breaths.
It never happened this way in his dreams.
Draco can feel the ashes getting stuck in his throat, but they won’t choke him to death. The potential means nothing and none of it really matters. All the magic in the world could send him back to change this outcome, and yet, he’s not sure if things wouldn’t end up the same regardless.
Fate is tricky that way.
It’s a credit to himself that he doesn’t beg for things to be any other way. Draco stopped crying a long time ago, stopped asking soon after.
Things are the way they are. Situations are fixed in immediacy, and the first step marks the path. There is no backing down from Lucius, or Draco’s legacy, and the mark on his arm will never burn again. He chose his side, even when he knew it was wrong, he will stand by that till the end.
Draco would have stood by him in the same vein had things been different. But things aren’t different, and even when Draco knew that Voldemort would lose, he stayed. His sense of preservation is strong, but Draco is nothing if not loyal to the exclusion of all else.
In this instance his loyalty overrides his sense of self-preservation because his first loyalty is to his family. They are his only loyalty. Everything else is irrelevant, and nothing else matters. Draco will die before he will betray them, but then again he will die regardless.
The words are in the air even if they don’t come from Potter’s lips, so the moment of time when Draco suspects things could have been different is meaningless. He always knew there would be lights in the end.
Not that it matters -- he’s dying anyway.
+++
Option B
Draco always thought that Potter would look more dead. There’s no mistaking that he is, in fact, dead, but his eyes are just as bright as always. They’re still open.
Draco needs to change that.
Naturally, in his dreams Draco enjoyed Potter’s death more. In his dreams he felt exalted and celebrated and vindicated, finally. Draco Malfoy killing The Boy Who Was Never Really as Good as Everybody Thought and Certainly Wasn’t Better Than Draco. He’s sure that the sense of completion will come in time, but perhaps he was expecting too much too soon. Perhaps it will take more time for Draco to understand the finality of his actions, of their actions.
No Voldemort, no Potter, just him, except that in Draco’s estimation vengeance normally smells sweeter. Normally there aren’t ashes in Draco’s nose and bloodstained tear tracks on his cheeks.
The stains will still be there in ten days, ten months, ten years.
In Draco’s dreams Potter’s death was prolonged and bloodless and at his hands with words and potions. Except even in Draco’s dreams of Potter’s death, he never actually died. Wanting Potter dead and being there upon his death are not the same thing. Draco can see that now.
Potter was supposed to be perma-tinted by green spells and covered in singed robe lint. Potter’s robes were never clean. Potter was supposed to look more dead, and Draco was supposed feel more satisfaction. Draco’s long-awaited joy is missing from everything now like it’s been sucked into an air-tight bag and tossed away. Draco suspects that if he lives forever he still won’t be able to find the contentment that should be there. That he always hoped would be there.
For something he has wanted for so long, the actualization is very disappointing.
Reality often is.
Not that it matters – Harry Potter is dead now anyway. Nothing will change that, not even the idea that it didn’t have to be this way.
+++
Option C
The stench of dead bodies is never going to come out of lambswool, and Draco had hoped not to be wearing his favorite jumper when the end of the world decided to present itself. He certainly had had enough chances to think about it, and really it was only because he didn’t expect to be portakeyed out the house that it happened this way anyway.
Draco never dreamed he’d face the Dark Lord in his jumper and a pair of Harry’s cast-off trousers. Of course, Draco has always told Harry that he didn't remember his dreams about the end of the world. Naturally, the reality was twice as bad his imagination, but even that wasn’t that bad.
It could always have been worse.
The air reeked of death and loss and there were ashes in Draco’s eyelashes, but he wasn’t dead and Potter wasn’t dead either. True, there were bodies on the ground and wands stuck in trees, but he was on the right side. It was just a coincidence that they happened to win.
Draco never thought of himself as a white hat. Draco never intended to fall in love with Harry Potter either, but only because the thought never occurred to him before it happened. If he had actually thought about it, chances are it never would have happened -- Draco has always prided himself on his cynicism. He’s learned to pride himself on a lot of things, despite what he’s had to give up to make things right.
At least he’ll never have to visit his father in Azkaban.
“Can we go home now?” Potter asks quietly. Draco had always thought Harry would sound happier when the end finally came around, he just wasn’t sure if he would be around to hear that note of resignment.
There was always the possibility that things wouldn’t work out – that someone would leave.
“Back to that charred shack that you call a house?” Harry’s ode to the Weasley’s ramshackle abode will never be close to Malfoy Manor, but it feels more like a home than the manor ever did.
There was always the possibility that one of them would die before they could get to this point.
“That would be the one.”
There was always the possibility that neither one of them would live to see the end.
“Yes, please.”
Life tends not to be predictable, and even a pessimistic realist like Draco can appreciate the fact that sometimes people get lucky and beat the odds. After all, there was always a chance that this ending would never happen.
2. Hope made me my very first piece of story fanart (not including the site that Lar built). She rocks so hard y’all should take cover.
I’m trying something different
Finale: The Options
+++
Option A
Death looks a lot better on Draco than he thought it would.
Of course, potential and actuality never seem to measure up. One always falls short of the other as do all possibilities that never reach fruition.
Draco will never grow old. He will never again play Quidditch or drink butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks – not that he had been welcome there in some time, but it’s the principle of the thing. Draco likes his principles – and his ego, and his pride and his looks - but they have only gotten him here.
His future is a route that has been cut off, and now all Draco’s missed alternatives taunt him with glowing lights of promise that are more painful than the broken bones and labouring breaths.
It never happened this way in his dreams.
Draco can feel the ashes getting stuck in his throat, but they won’t choke him to death. The potential means nothing and none of it really matters. All the magic in the world could send him back to change this outcome, and yet, he’s not sure if things wouldn’t end up the same regardless.
Fate is tricky that way.
It’s a credit to himself that he doesn’t beg for things to be any other way. Draco stopped crying a long time ago, stopped asking soon after.
Things are the way they are. Situations are fixed in immediacy, and the first step marks the path. There is no backing down from Lucius, or Draco’s legacy, and the mark on his arm will never burn again. He chose his side, even when he knew it was wrong, he will stand by that till the end.
Draco would have stood by him in the same vein had things been different. But things aren’t different, and even when Draco knew that Voldemort would lose, he stayed. His sense of preservation is strong, but Draco is nothing if not loyal to the exclusion of all else.
In this instance his loyalty overrides his sense of self-preservation because his first loyalty is to his family. They are his only loyalty. Everything else is irrelevant, and nothing else matters. Draco will die before he will betray them, but then again he will die regardless.
The words are in the air even if they don’t come from Potter’s lips, so the moment of time when Draco suspects things could have been different is meaningless. He always knew there would be lights in the end.
Not that it matters -- he’s dying anyway.
+++
Option B
Draco always thought that Potter would look more dead. There’s no mistaking that he is, in fact, dead, but his eyes are just as bright as always. They’re still open.
Draco needs to change that.
Naturally, in his dreams Draco enjoyed Potter’s death more. In his dreams he felt exalted and celebrated and vindicated, finally. Draco Malfoy killing The Boy Who Was Never Really as Good as Everybody Thought and Certainly Wasn’t Better Than Draco. He’s sure that the sense of completion will come in time, but perhaps he was expecting too much too soon. Perhaps it will take more time for Draco to understand the finality of his actions, of their actions.
No Voldemort, no Potter, just him, except that in Draco’s estimation vengeance normally smells sweeter. Normally there aren’t ashes in Draco’s nose and bloodstained tear tracks on his cheeks.
The stains will still be there in ten days, ten months, ten years.
In Draco’s dreams Potter’s death was prolonged and bloodless and at his hands with words and potions. Except even in Draco’s dreams of Potter’s death, he never actually died. Wanting Potter dead and being there upon his death are not the same thing. Draco can see that now.
Potter was supposed to be perma-tinted by green spells and covered in singed robe lint. Potter’s robes were never clean. Potter was supposed to look more dead, and Draco was supposed feel more satisfaction. Draco’s long-awaited joy is missing from everything now like it’s been sucked into an air-tight bag and tossed away. Draco suspects that if he lives forever he still won’t be able to find the contentment that should be there. That he always hoped would be there.
For something he has wanted for so long, the actualization is very disappointing.
Reality often is.
Not that it matters – Harry Potter is dead now anyway. Nothing will change that, not even the idea that it didn’t have to be this way.
+++
Option C
The stench of dead bodies is never going to come out of lambswool, and Draco had hoped not to be wearing his favorite jumper when the end of the world decided to present itself. He certainly had had enough chances to think about it, and really it was only because he didn’t expect to be portakeyed out the house that it happened this way anyway.
Draco never dreamed he’d face the Dark Lord in his jumper and a pair of Harry’s cast-off trousers. Of course, Draco has always told Harry that he didn't remember his dreams about the end of the world. Naturally, the reality was twice as bad his imagination, but even that wasn’t that bad.
It could always have been worse.
The air reeked of death and loss and there were ashes in Draco’s eyelashes, but he wasn’t dead and Potter wasn’t dead either. True, there were bodies on the ground and wands stuck in trees, but he was on the right side. It was just a coincidence that they happened to win.
Draco never thought of himself as a white hat. Draco never intended to fall in love with Harry Potter either, but only because the thought never occurred to him before it happened. If he had actually thought about it, chances are it never would have happened -- Draco has always prided himself on his cynicism. He’s learned to pride himself on a lot of things, despite what he’s had to give up to make things right.
At least he’ll never have to visit his father in Azkaban.
“Can we go home now?” Potter asks quietly. Draco had always thought Harry would sound happier when the end finally came around, he just wasn’t sure if he would be around to hear that note of resignment.
There was always the possibility that things wouldn’t work out – that someone would leave.
“Back to that charred shack that you call a house?” Harry’s ode to the Weasley’s ramshackle abode will never be close to Malfoy Manor, but it feels more like a home than the manor ever did.
There was always the possibility that one of them would die before they could get to this point.
“That would be the one.”
There was always the possibility that neither one of them would live to see the end.
“Yes, please.”
Life tends not to be predictable, and even a pessimistic realist like Draco can appreciate the fact that sometimes people get lucky and beat the odds. After all, there was always a chance that this ending would never happen.
no subject
this line like,so rocked my socks. it's just so... so draco!!
He chose his side, even when he knew it was wrong, he will stand by that till the end.
ARG!! this line is so perfectly him too!!! do you have any idea what you do to me?! ::sighs::
and i thoroughly enjoyed option b as well. his matter of factness, his honesty, and still his hope that the satisfaction will come as he admits that it probably never will.
Draco never dreamed he’d face the Dark Lord in his jumper and a pair of Harry’s cast-off trousers.
::chokes on her water::
that... that was good. yes.
and to top it all off, i loved the recurring ashed imagery. yes, that i did. ^^
no subject