Word Count: 913
Summary:As much as Charlie wishes he could look away, his eyes are always fixed upon Draco.
Warnings :mentions of killing
Notes:this was written for hp_creatures's picture prompt
many thanks to digthewriter for the fast and amazing beta-read, without her there would be so much chaos in this fic. all remaining mistakes are my very own
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Always watching you, even if it's devastating me
A blue moon. A magical sight to behold.
Nearly everyone calls a blue moon a rare occurrence. Or they use the phrase 'once in a blue moon' to make clear how unlikely something is to happen, how magical it is when it does happen.
These days, I envy such people, the ones, who are unaware, who don't know better, because now I know that a blue moon- a second full moon in one month- happens every three years, and I dread its occurrence like most of the werewolves. Even if, for my own slightly different reasons.
My eyes wander over the nightly sky. In the past it had been just a sky full of stars, but now I know the shapes the stars outline, know the history to most of the creatures embroidered on this endless quilt, and there right next to Draco, as if mocking me with a secret I'll never fully comprehend, is the dreaded blue moon, glazing the night in it's white, cruel shine, making the truth sharp and cold like an ice spear in my heart.
I never believed myself to be the jealous type; I was never the steady type either. But then of course, things happen and he had to walk into my turf, making me hand it over to him on a golden platter if he so much as hinted he'd wanted it.
I always believed that falling in love, was something that'd happen like firework: lots of preparation suddenly to be there and beautiful and a start to many memories to come.
But my own experience is far less beautiful and way more volatile.
According to my youngest brother, that's the reaction most people have when they come face to face with one Draco Malfoy. What all those lucky bastards who lay their eyes on Draco and drink his sight in with greed and want don't know, that pure-blood Draco Malfoy is a siren. One can love them or hate them but never get to choose what it will be.
I am one of those who have fallen for him with one glimmer of his deep eyes, which never are just blue, or gray, but like the ocean sirens come from ever changing, depending on his mood. I'm helpless when it comes to my feelings, and he knows it, and sometimes he goes so far and teases me about it, never understanding how it hurts to be so lost in one's emotions.
Oh he cares for me, I would even dare say he loves me, as strong as a siren can, but he can't understand how defenseless a mere wizard like me is to his charms.
A soft sigh escapes my lips as my eyes have wandered back to him, and I am watching him yet again from afar, giving in fully to his inner siren like the blue moon compels him every three years.
He arrives here at where the Danube becomes one with the Black Sea before the night falls. He leans against this one huge rock in the middle of the vast delta, waiting for the moon to awake his blood. He waits for his skin to shine pure white under the moon, his whole body to radiate with a beauty that is beyond words, and his need and hunger to rouse.
At first, I hoped he would dread this event like I do since the first time I had seen it. But now I know better; he yearns for this night, and for him it's over way too soon, while I can't bear the minutes it takes for this one night to pass.
I watch as he lets yet another bloodless body fall into the sea without any thought, despite him having drained its blood and ravaged its soul. A siren is like a Dementor, except that one wants them feeding away on you, longs for their deathly kiss.
I know Draco is aware of me watching him, he always knows, but tonight he won't let me see his eyes; won't even go so far as glance in my direction. I don't think he does this to save me, I know he can live without me, maybe even better than with me. Still I believe he is afraid, just like me, afraid of what he might find in the depths of my soul.
I will watch him until the night has turned into a new morning. That's when he will come over to me, and fall asleep in my arms with a mysterious smile on his lips that I will never be able to understand.
There will be no words about the blue moon night, because we never know what to say.
I love him, and he chose me as the one to confide in, to be with, to love, and that is all that counts. Even in this white cruel night that will always haunt a part of me, as much as they are a part of him.
I'll apparate us home, and like always, let him sleep until noon.
After an extensive brunch, we will return to our routine for the next three years. Things will be normal again. Until the next blue moon, when the sea will call him again, and I will follow him again, just like I've done in the past.
Love, even as volatile and as unwelcome as I experience it from time to time, shares dark secrets and only grows stronger upon them.