is it the weekend yet?

[hackthis_archive]

ethrosdemon has written me some SV. I suspect that my being gobsmacked by this turn of events is what has resulted in this drabble. Post-traumatic Lex disorder.



R.I.P
Improv: tatter, vinegar, trample


Draco is practically mesmerized by how bright and luminous the flower petals are under a setting sun: some things thrive on death, and Everreds radiate life like blood shirred with gold paint. Naturally, no other flower would ever be able to grow on this spot.

Even amidst all that death something beautiful still remains. How appropriate.

However, the flower stems are a sickly shade of green and the leaves are in tatters. Obviously no one has tended this grave in some time, possibly since they locked up the youngest Weasley in Azkaban, and Draco knows better than to touch flowers that thrive on human blood. Of course, Everreds never completely die, and truly, Draco’s not surprised to find them on his grave.

TheDarkLordVoldemortTom always did like his flowers, particularly ones that belied their appearance. Tom was always contrary that way: magnificent flowers and a monstrous mind, harsh words and soft touches.

Tom believed in being everything at all times, never either or, and Draco can respect that. Draco can respect a lot as he’s still alive, and there aren’t people trampling and hexing his grave at every hour of the day. Draco can respect Tom’s power, and still hate him for a thousand and one grievances.

Draco has no problem with either or. Draco can admit to his emotions in a rapidly darkening cemetery with no one else around. Of course, Draco has never pissed on anyone’s grave either, but the sentiment is not lost upon him at this moment in time. Draco might honestly consider consecrating the ground if it didn’t already reek of vinegar and sulfur and dead dark wizards.

But Draco can respect flowers that suck human blood, just as he can respect the dead. Long live the dead.


I’d also like to take this moment to say hello to fearlessdiva who’s LJ I fell into courtesy of Kass. I’m in awe of your WIP (as posted to your LJ) Draco story

Comments

[yourpoison.livejournal.com]

didn't mean i identified with voldemort. had to correct that.
i meant i identified with the sentiment. the whole good riddance thing ^^; that morning after sort of feel, like a pavement wet with rain, in the city-- where there's that damp, uncomfortable feel in the air, and all the litter seems to be sparkling with dew as if it was flower-petals. something in the air is ripe with pain, and nothing is what it should be, and yet it is. the storm has blown over, and things are dead, and everything is changed, but you're alive, and you're not sorry.

erm. now watch me get even more morbid, apparently ^^;

some things are just hard to put into words, and i'm glad when someone does, anyway~:)