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starduchessThis is a repost of my ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_halloween drabble from this year.
Gift for:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
literaryspell
From:starduchess
Title: Choices
Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Rating: R
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: HP is not mine.
Warnings: violence, gore, dark!fic
Summary: Every year, they mourn what was lost. Every year, there is something new to mourn.
Notes: written for her prompt: “twisted minds”
Harry watched as Draco floated in a slew of candles and arranged them on the stone floor in front of him. He shifted uncomfortably as much as the chains on his wrists and ankles allowed.
“You know what day it is, don’t you?” Draco’s speech was light but mocking. “October 31st. Time to mourn the dead.”
Harry pleaded against what he knew was coming.
Draco smirked. He lit one candle. “For Granger; I hope you don’t miss her bossiness.”
He lit another. “For the Weasel; pity on that end.
“Dumbledore ... Sirius ... Lupin ... McGonagall ... of course, we mustn’t forget your father ... your mother ....”
Harry whimpered at each of their names. He hated the war, all he’d lost.
“Now we get to the good ones,” Draco chuckled. “Your left pinky ... your left big toe ... your right ear -- a shame ‘cause I liked that one.”
Harry whimpered some more as Draco lit a candle for each.
“So tell me, Potter, what are we going to mourn next year?”
After a long despairing moment, Harry croaked, “Tongue.”
“You’re sure?”
He nodded, then screamed as Draco carved out his tongue. It hurt, but at least he’d never have to name another body part again.
--
hp_halloween drabble from this year.Gift for:
literaryspellFrom:
starduchessTitle: Choices
Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Rating: R
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: HP is not mine.
Warnings: violence, gore, dark!fic
Summary: Every year, they mourn what was lost. Every year, there is something new to mourn.
Notes: written for her prompt: “twisted minds”
Harry watched as Draco floated in a slew of candles and arranged them on the stone floor in front of him. He shifted uncomfortably as much as the chains on his wrists and ankles allowed.
“You know what day it is, don’t you?” Draco’s speech was light but mocking. “October 31st. Time to mourn the dead.”
Harry pleaded against what he knew was coming.
Draco smirked. He lit one candle. “For Granger; I hope you don’t miss her bossiness.”
He lit another. “For the Weasel; pity on that end.
“Dumbledore ... Sirius ... Lupin ... McGonagall ... of course, we mustn’t forget your father ... your mother ....”
Harry whimpered at each of their names. He hated the war, all he’d lost.
“Now we get to the good ones,” Draco chuckled. “Your left pinky ... your left big toe ... your right ear -- a shame ‘cause I liked that one.”
Harry whimpered some more as Draco lit a candle for each.
“So tell me, Potter, what are we going to mourn next year?”
After a long despairing moment, Harry croaked, “Tongue.”
“You’re sure?”
He nodded, then screamed as Draco carved out his tongue. It hurt, but at least he’d never have to name another body part again.
--