wook77: (Mary Blue Draco)
[personal profile] wook77
The big reveal has been posted at [livejournal.com profile] hd_remix. I was lucky enough to get [livejournal.com profile] dacro... after much wibbling, I chose Our Tree as the fic to remix. This story made quite an impression on me.

This remix is from a different pov and I'll leave it there for you to experience. As always, I'd love to hear what you think.


Title: Weathering the Storm
Remix of: [livejournal.com profile] dacro's Our Tree
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1624
Warnings: Angst, Flangst, First Person, (warnings from original: Vampire!Draco, Character Death)
Summary: Harry made a promise to wait, forever if need be, at their tree.
A/N: Many many thanks to my betas, [livejournal.com profile] anael, [livejournal.com profile] ficlette, [livejournal.com profile] elle113 and [livejournal.com profile] wildegirl_05 for putting up with me. Also – loads of thanks to [livejournal.com profile] coffeejunkii for not only putting up with my wibbling but for being so generous with her suggestions, her patience and her encouragement.



Day 3
Where am I? Why can't I move?

Day 5
I… I don't remember…

Day 9
I want to swallow. I need to swallow. Why can't I? Where, what, why, what is wrong with me?

Day 11
It worked. I didn't think that it would. I doubted there at the end, even though I knew that they knew what they were doing, had the power to do it. My soul is bound. Did I make the right decision? Am I just being selfish? Why can't I remember who they are?

Day 38
It's odd being here, trapped in this static place with a view that doesn't change. I'm not sure that it's what I was expecting. Being here is like being back in that cupboard. This time, it was myself that locked the door and tossed the key. I just need to move. How is it that I can remember the cupboard but I can't remember who locked me in? Why I was locked in?

Day 45
I've survived my first storm. I still question whether this was a good decision on my part. I'd thought trees fairly simple things but the pounding rain ripped off leaves. The pain was unexpected and sharp. They never appeared to mind the rain or the wind. But now I know that the rain and the wind bend and rip and tear. It hurts and I want… I can't remember.

Day 82
The sun feels glorious today. Even as the air chills my bark and branches, I find myself trying to twist them towards the sky and that glorious sunshine. I've the best view here. I try not to concentrate on the things that I can't have again but I miss sitting at the table with him. Breakfast, that meal that we rushed over, barely even bothered with most days, that's the one I miss the most. Breakfast was for goodbyes and we, or at least I, hated them. I find that those lost moments are the ones I long for now.

Day 94
I know his face. Why can't I remember his name? Why do I want him to stop when he walks past and never looks at me?

Day 108
A young man stopped by. I couldn't do anything other than stay in place and listen to his sobs as he hugged my trunk. The vibrations went through to the tips of my leaves and down through the ends of my branches. I hate not being able to move. After he left, I remembered my son.

Day 190
The world isn't as static as I'd thought previously. The sky constantly changes with clouds and colours. I've never really noticed the depth of blue in the sky. There are so many shades of blue. I wonder what that one would be called?

Day 215
I've finally figured out how to move with the wind and the rain. The pain is much less and I can enjoy the electricity in the air. It thrills me to have it crackling around me. I can feel my heartbeat like I couldn't before and won't be able to again until the next storm, the next bit of lightning. This is almost better than running after a young boy, flying after a golden ball. I feel alive.

Day 321
Why hasn't he stopped yet?

Day 394
The young man stopped by once more. I remember him now. Nigel, my son, my young boy, now a man. What else am I missing?

Day 485
It is peaceful in this grove but I still want him to come and touch my trunk, my branches, me.

Day 641
Nigel and Draco stood together under my branches. Their voices were raised in an argument and I so desperately wanted to hear them, hug them. They stopped when I touched them with one of my low hanging branches. They stared as the warmth of their shoulders seeped into my leaves. The moment was more electric than the heat lightning of the summer. Why did he leave?

Day 648
Draco sat under my branches and wept, hugging me tightly around my trunk. I've wanted this for so long only to be disappointed. My branches aren't arms and I cannot wrap him firmly in my embrace. As I struggled against my confines, there was an instant that I almost ripped free.

Day 654
Draco came again, leaning his back against my trunk, it almost felt like those long ago days when we'd sit underneath this tree and catch up on our days, our lives, Nigel. Draco murmurs and I can't hear him.

Day 952
The wind tears and rips at my bark and I welcome the pain. If I shed the bark, I should be able to hear Draco when he comes and lies at my roots. I should be able to feel him.

Day 954
The damage from the storm was too much and the pain in my branches and trunk is unbearable. I can't stand to have him touch me. What have I done?

Day 1826
Draco planted a tree, a young sapling that nestles near my roots. I remember planting this tree with him those many years ago. It's been so long, how much longer will I be bound here before Draco passes on?

Day 1895
I'm a grandfather.

Day 7349
I've lost all sense of time. Seasons pass and I stay here, waiting for my world to come to me. They humour me by bringing their children, having reunions, presenting the newest additions. Nigel's eldest brought a boy past and waited for me to acknowledge him somehow. Just last season, she was a baby, wasn't she? The boy doesn't jump when I lower my branches to brush my leaves across his back.

Day 7488
Draco sits with me almost daily and tells me of his life. It's stopped mattering that I can't hear his words because the rumble of his voice vibrates through my bark and I can feel him deep inside.

Day 8130
I'm a great-grandfather and I don't know their names.

Day 9688
Draco hasn't aged a day. Neither have I. Is this our curse or our blessing? I wonder how he copes with feeding? Does he miss me reminding him of his needs or does the thirst remind him instead of me? Did he ever need me?

Day 10597
I've resigned myself to the changing of the seasons, to the storms and the whims of the weather. I've given myself over to the never-ending vista of sky and tree, to this world except… I can't resign myself to not hearing his voice.

Day 11111
The quiet moments between us have increased. Draco barely speaks and I can see, in his hunched shoulders and his slow departing that he misses me as desperately as I miss him. When I touch his shoulder with the outmost branch, he turns and I can see a sheen of tears in his eyes. Have we done the right thing?

Day 11200
The sapling has grown to be a fine, strong tree. I've sheltered it to the best of my abilities, even through the raging storms. It's close, possibly too close, because our roots have intertwined.

Day 12625
Draco didn't speak today. He just stayed huddled beside me, pressed as close as possible. I wish my branches were flexible enough to embrace him. My leaves rustle as I embrace the sapling, instead.

Day 12918
Nigel walked by with a cane.

Day 13482
The wind listens to their troubles as the children pour out the heartache, the pain and the suffering into my roots. It carries their voices, hopefully to someone that can listen and aid. Their pain is palpable in the strength of their hold on my trunk.

Day 15629
Where is Draco?

Day 15690
I take comfort in the closeness of the sapling. Perhaps this is why Draco planted it so close to me. Perhaps he knew my loneliness. Where is he?

Day 15727
I can feel something in the air, a tingle that only appears when Draco comes near.

Day 15791
He comes by almost daily and I've remembered now. That tingle is magic. How could I forget the prickle of magic?

Day 15794
His tattoo. The trees. I know. I see. I know.

Day 18649
Draco looks as old now as he did when I was first bound into our tree. Is this why I don't feel the years in the weight of my branches?

Day 21320
My son is a great-grandfather. I bend my branches to brush across the baby and Draco's shoulders. I feel the giggle on the wind.

Day 21648
Nigel won't be to see me again. I can feel it. The sapling's branches twine with mine to form a roof over my son as he embraces my trunk. His tears water my roots in the middle of the unseasonable drought. Draco stands to the side, allowing us this moment and I bend to touch him, trying to communicate without words that I want him here, with us. When he comes over, it feels complete.

Day 21927
I remember that ceremony. Even now, all these seasons later, I can chant along with the younglings as they prepare the sapling. My Draco was always one for planning. He knew all those years before and my branches reach out, entwining further into the sapling.

Day 21941
The sapling bends around me, intertwined and I wait for the coming.

Day 21948
Soon.

Day 21952
Draco's tears tell me everything I need to know. In them, I see my son's passing and the end of my loneliness. It's been so long, am I wrong to be so impatient here at the end?

Day 21964
Finally.

January 2012

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