omi_ohmy | Ficlet: By the Light of the Moon

Well, I've achieved another important fandom marker: I wrote a tentacle!fic. Written quickly and unbetaed, for

faithwood's prompt 'Harry/Draco, tentacles', in

marguerite_26's one word prompt comment fest.

I seem incapable of writing an actual drabble. Sigh. Originally posted here, I'm reposting it for neatness' sake.

Title: By the Light of the Moon
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,789
Summary: Draco longs for the freedom of a midnight swim in the lake, but even in June it is a cold, dark place. With tentacles....

By the Light of the Moon

The moon was cold in the sky. Everything beneath it was white, or lost in the black of the shadows. Draco took a deep breath as he approached the water's edge. He could hear the small waves of the lake, lapping at the shore, along with the gurgles and gasps of whatever was out there. As a Slytherin, he knew the giant squid only too well, but also knew that tonight it would be staying in the waters by the dungeons, drawn by the noise of the party he had left behind.

He wanted none of that. Here, his head felt clear. Or nearly so: no matter how hard he tried, he could never really escape the feeling of judgement which seem to follow him around the castle. Whether it was other students, whispering as he walked past, or the look of pity in McGonagall's eyes as her gaze paused on him in the Great Hall, he was sick of it. Then there were the quiet voices of disappointment only he heard, in quiet moments, in his dreams: his mother's voice, chiding him for not being braver in the face of the world's hatred for their name, his father's chill tones denouncing his weakness, and the snide tones of Severus, trying to warn him but never succeeding.

Draco stood by the cold water on the evening of his birthday, wishing only for some peace. He ignored the chill in the Scottish air as he stripped his robes, his shirt, his trousers. His skin though, rose in a endless landscape of tiny hills as goosebumps covered his body. Gritting his teeth, Draco removed the last of his clothing, and stepped towards the lake.

When the water clasped his ankles and feet in its chilled embrace, Draco paused. He still had his wand in hand, and he cast a quick warming charm, before throwing it to land with this clothes. He continued to walk into the lake. Even with the charm, his breath still caught as the water reached up his legs. After a couple of long, even breaths, Draco decided that he'd had enough of taking it slowly, and, remembering long-ago summer lessons, he leant forwards and brought his hands before him. He dove into the water, barely making a splash.

He came up gasping, for air, for warmth. His head ached with the cold of the water, and he was beginning to shiver. Draco wished he could cast another warming charm, but it was obvious that they dissipated quickly in open water, so he shrugged it off as an impractical solution anyway. Without looking back at the shore, he broke into a swim, his body moving in vigorous arcs and clean kicks as he pushed through the water.

It was... it was wonderful. Draco felt a sense of freedom that had eluded him for a long time. Not since he'd last flown his broom against Potter had he felt this electrifying certainty that he was alive. He pushed on, revelling in the distance that rose between him and the shore, revelling in the sense of power it brought. There was just the deep, dark water below him, and the bright moon above. He swam until his arms ached, his legs burned, his lungs were exhausted. He slowed, until he came to a stop and trod water.

Swimming in the dark was different to swimming in daylight. He'd taken no heed of any landmarks, not even the castle. Slowly, Draco realised just how far he'd travelled away from land. The shivering began again, so Draco began to swim back to shore. But this time, his movements were slower, gentler, as his limbs began to grow heavy with fatigue.

He would not give up, and nor was he scared. Draco had faced enough in his life already that he knew that some cold water was not going to defeat him. He would just push on, push through any tiredness, until he reached the shore.

It was hard, though, and Draco's movements slowed more. The shaking returned, and his head began to ache, a pain that spread upwards from the top of his neck. As his teeth began to chatter, Draco peered forwards, trying to discern how far it was to the shore. Even as he looked, he knew. It was too far.

He would not give up though, and even as his kicks grew erratic, he kept going.

Even as his mind began to fix on the moon, on the circle as it hung in the sky, as reflective and pale as his skin, Draco was still able to feel the tendrils of panic spread through is body as... something clung onto his leg. It was something thick and warm, something muscular that was dragging him away from the brightness above, into the darkness below.

Draco thrashed his legs, kicking blindly. Energy rushed through him, his exhaustion forgotten in his need to escape. Horrifyingly, instead of breaking free another... something wrapped itself around his arm.

"Noooo!” shouted Draco, but his cry became lost beneath the waves as he was dragged under. He was suffocating, airless in the water, trapped by immense ropes of muscle, attaching themselves to him with huge, round... suckers.

As suddenly as he had been pulled below, Draco's body was pushed up out of the water. He took a burning breath, panting as he tried to fill every part of his body with precious air. And then he remembered his last thought before being thrust up. Tentacles. Not the vast tree trunks of the Giant Squid. No, something else entirely. He turned his head, ever so sightly, tilting it too in an effort to see the creature currently still wrapped around his limbs. And, he realised, his torso, as one more tentacle curled around him.

He hadn't really expected to see anything, but there was the creature's head! It was dark, dark like the water, nothing like his own silver-white skin in the moonlight, but Draco could see clearly enough to make out the markings on its head.

He almost laughed, despite the cold and the way it ached to the bone. Because there, as clear as the silhouette of the castle in the distance, was a lightning bolt.

“Potter?”

Wide green eyes turned to regard him, and Draco shivered at their familiarity. They stared at him for a moment more, then moved back to face the shore. This thing, Potter, was pulling them back to shore. Draco tried to struggle against the tentacles, but he couldn't release himself, and besides, he was tired. So tired. So he relaxed into the embrace of the winding tentacles, and let himself be carried along. He stared up at the moon, and it stared back, unblinking.

Just as Draco's eyes were beginning to drift shut, the tentacles slid away. He knew he needed them, he knew he needed to survive, and Draco reached out, blindly feeling for them, wanting to have them back. Instead, his hands met the bumps of ribs, the smoothness of still-warm skin, and then an answering hand took his, and pulled him along.

They were, he saw, almost at the waters edge, and Draco made the effort to move his legs, to attempt to climb the slippery bank that rose to meet the land. He slid though. His limbs refusing to help him, but Potter &endash; Potter! &endash; grasped him beneath his arms and pulled and dragged him to shore.

Draco lay on his side, watching through the lens of confusion as Potter Summoned his wand, transfigured a leaf into a huge blanket, and lit a fire. He pulled Draco onto his lap, both of them facing the fire, and wrapped the blanket around both their bodies. Potter's hands began to move and rub, large circles, lines up and down, over and over again, until the shivering began to stop. Then, he wrapped the blanket closer and held Draco tight. He whispered a warming charm, and dried Draco's hair, but somehow didn't ever let go.

When Draco thought he could speak again, he tried to say Potter's name, but was instantly hushed. The hands began to move along his arms again.

"Shhh. Don't speak. Save your energy. You almost...." The hands kept moving, but the words stopped. Draco missed their comforting rumble, and he fancied he could feel Potter's Gryffindor heart, pounding away in his chest.

"I only wanted to go for a swim," Draco said, his voice croaky. His throat hurt.

"A swim? Are you mad?"

"I'm not the one with tentacles!"

Potter shifted, moving around so he could see Draco's face. "It's my animagus form. It's lucky I was out there, tonight."

Draco looked back, and only saw concern. It was a while before he said anything, and when he spoke, it was in a whisper.

"Thank you."

Potter smiled, and it was as warm as the flames dancing in front of them. "It was in my interests to save you."

There was something else to his gaze now. A heat, which made Draco's heart beat faster. Thinking back, Potter had watched him, over the year, but never been one of those whispering. And, Draco could admit to himself, perhaps he had been watching Potter, too.

He wasn't swimming, but somehow Draco still felt free and reckless all of a sudden. There were no words he could think to say in return, so instead he leant back into the heat of Potter's body. Potter froze for a second, then began to move his hands again. Everywhere that they passed, they left a ghost of sensation.

Tentatively, Draco raised his own hand, and traced a line down Potter's side. Their eyes met, and there was no judgement. Just the spark of promise.

"I think I might be glad that you saved me, too," said Draco as he continued to explore Potter's skin. Potter began to move his hand again, tracing the red raised circles left by his suckers, but never taking his eyes off Draco as he swirled his fingers round, again and again. Draco realised that he was marked by Potter, and he saw Potter realise it too as his mouth curled up. His eyes burned with possesion.

Heat built in Draco, so different to the floating cold of the lake, and he pulled Potter closer.

Finally, Potter closed his eyes as their lips met, cold and hot at the same time.

Above them the moon looked on, indifferent, while behind them the dark waters of the lake lapped at the shore. But in front of them, flames of light, yellow and bright, lit their skin with warmth.