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lokifanOMG INTERNET CONNECTION!
Am in the parental bosom, where internet connections are sporadic. Consequently I couldn’t enter this into this week’ssortinghatdrabs. Still, having fought had a DEATH MATCH with the wordcount, I’m bloody well posting!
Title: Healing
Author:lokifan
Word count: ~500
Characters/pairings: Background Bill/Fleur; Draco
Rating: PG
Summary: Healing requires forgiveness - not something that comes naturally to Veela.
Warnings: canon character death
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Veela were very good at two things – neither of which was ‘blowjobs’, despite Bill’s opinion – attracting men, and fighting. Full-blooded Veela were a warrior race, with fire in their eyes and at their command. Flying through the Hogwarts melee with Bill beside her, their hair streaming behind them in mingled red and gold as their wands slashed through the air and light flashed all around –
It had been the most exhilarating experience of her life.
Then she saw Fred’s dead face, and felt Bill stumble. All the screaming, heated instincts swirling inside her turned suddenly to ice.
During the long vigil after Voldemort’s death, while Fleur cried and tried not to notice how cold her knees were, she watched the Healers.
They were amazing.
St Mungo’s was eager for volunteers, and took her happily. The work was hard and complex and smelly, but she helped people. It was nearly as good as when she made Bill smile enough to twist the scar on his left cheek.
Seven months later, Draco Malfoy was brought in. He’d been hexed, and the eight spells used were going to take some untangling.
Fleur refused to help. The matron told her she wouldn’t be allowed Healer training with that on her record. So she went to him, drawn up and haughty and French.
He was huddled under the twisted sheets, his face twisted in pain.
It twisted in scorn a moment later, as Fleur handed him his lunch tray. “What’s this muck? It’ll probably deform me even worse than the hexing – ”
Fleur’s aloofness evaporated against the heat of her anger. “Don’t talk to me about deformed,” she spat. “You were hexed with children’s spells – you’ve a nerve to whine about it, when you let that benighted werewolf half-kill my husband!”
He blanched so fast it was almost funny. Fleur sneered and turned on her heel.
The next day, Draco was white rather than green, and fussed irritably with his sheets. He flinched when she first raised her wand; his only other movement was opening his mouth, right before she left.
Harry visited on Thursday. Fleur was unsurprised to find Draco with windburn-pink cheeks afterwards. His eyes flashed at her, bright and wet. “Oh wonderful, someone else to tell me how I failed. You know what, I don’t regret it! He would’ve killed my whole family!”
“As if it were a fair price, your father for Bill!”
“Don’t – ” His gesture broke open his stitches, and Fleur healed him again.
Tooth-gritted tolerance became something else, via his bright-eyed attraction to her when she had vomit on her tunic and Fleur’s steadfast healing. Draco clearly knew it wasn’t forgiveness, though.
He looked up when she entered – nearly healed now. “You look happy.”
“My sister’s visiting.” She bent to check his chart. “I love Bill as much as her, of course, but it’s different. Gabrielle’s my little sister – I look after her. I’d do anything to protect her.” Straightening, Fleur met Draco’s wide eyes. “Anything at all.”
Am in the parental bosom, where internet connections are sporadic. Consequently I couldn’t enter this into this week’s
sortinghatdrabs. Still, having Title: Healing
Author:
lokifanWord count: ~500
Characters/pairings: Background Bill/Fleur; Draco
Rating: PG
Summary: Healing requires forgiveness - not something that comes naturally to Veela.
Warnings: canon character death
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Veela were very good at two things – neither of which was ‘blowjobs’, despite Bill’s opinion – attracting men, and fighting. Full-blooded Veela were a warrior race, with fire in their eyes and at their command. Flying through the Hogwarts melee with Bill beside her, their hair streaming behind them in mingled red and gold as their wands slashed through the air and light flashed all around –
It had been the most exhilarating experience of her life.
Then she saw Fred’s dead face, and felt Bill stumble. All the screaming, heated instincts swirling inside her turned suddenly to ice.
During the long vigil after Voldemort’s death, while Fleur cried and tried not to notice how cold her knees were, she watched the Healers.
They were amazing.
St Mungo’s was eager for volunteers, and took her happily. The work was hard and complex and smelly, but she helped people. It was nearly as good as when she made Bill smile enough to twist the scar on his left cheek.
Seven months later, Draco Malfoy was brought in. He’d been hexed, and the eight spells used were going to take some untangling.
Fleur refused to help. The matron told her she wouldn’t be allowed Healer training with that on her record. So she went to him, drawn up and haughty and French.
He was huddled under the twisted sheets, his face twisted in pain.
It twisted in scorn a moment later, as Fleur handed him his lunch tray. “What’s this muck? It’ll probably deform me even worse than the hexing – ”
Fleur’s aloofness evaporated against the heat of her anger. “Don’t talk to me about deformed,” she spat. “You were hexed with children’s spells – you’ve a nerve to whine about it, when you let that benighted werewolf half-kill my husband!”
He blanched so fast it was almost funny. Fleur sneered and turned on her heel.
The next day, Draco was white rather than green, and fussed irritably with his sheets. He flinched when she first raised her wand; his only other movement was opening his mouth, right before she left.
Harry visited on Thursday. Fleur was unsurprised to find Draco with windburn-pink cheeks afterwards. His eyes flashed at her, bright and wet. “Oh wonderful, someone else to tell me how I failed. You know what, I don’t regret it! He would’ve killed my whole family!”
“As if it were a fair price, your father for Bill!”
“Don’t – ” His gesture broke open his stitches, and Fleur healed him again.
Tooth-gritted tolerance became something else, via his bright-eyed attraction to her when she had vomit on her tunic and Fleur’s steadfast healing. Draco clearly knew it wasn’t forgiveness, though.
He looked up when she entered – nearly healed now. “You look happy.”
“My sister’s visiting.” She bent to check his chart. “I love Bill as much as her, of course, but it’s different. Gabrielle’s my little sister – I look after her. I’d do anything to protect her.” Straightening, Fleur met Draco’s wide eyes. “Anything at all.”