Arsonist's Lullaby
As you may have guessed, this one is inspired by "Arsonist's Lullaby" by Hosier. cw: arson (as you might have deduced, no one is hurt and they're burning their own property)
Draco was doing that thing with his hands again. The thing Harry had noticed first in 8th year and then hadn't stopped being able to notice in the past five years since.
It's what had drawn him to Draco in the first place, like a moth to flame (pun very much intended). There was something completely mesmerizing about watching him snap his fingers and then cradle the blue flames in his palm absentmindedly while he talked, or read a book, or performed any number of mindless tasks. It was sexy as fuck.
"You're staring again," Draco murmured, not raising his eyes from his book as the fire danced across his knuckles.
Harry hummed, "You're doing the fire again."
"You're as obsessed with fire as I am," he said, mouth curling at the corner.
"Mostly obsessed with you," Harry replied and Draco laughed and finally looked up for his book.
He stared at Harry for a moment, the fire winding its way through his fingers the way some people rolled coins along their knuckles. "You know," Draco said, voice a hint too casual and Harry internally perked up at what was sure to be a fantastic confession, "I thought it would end."
"What would?" Harry asked after a moment when it was clear that Draco wasn't going to go on without a bit of prompting.
His silver eyes latched onto Harry and his head tilted as he looked at him, like he was trying to parse something out. "The desire to light things on fire," he said and something hot flared in the pit of Harry's stomach.
"Tell me more," Harry said softly, voice low and seductive in a way that it normally wasn't outside of their bedroom.
Draco's pupils dilated sharply, "when I was a child," he said, the fire burning brighter in his hand for a moment, "I would sit for hours and stare at the flames in the manor's giant fire place. My parents couldn't understand it, they'd find me just sitting there, doing nothing but watching, like I was transfixed."
And frankly, Harry could understand that; he could watch Draco hold fire all day.
"When she caught me, Auntie Bella would say, 'don't ever tame your demons, Draco,' then she'd wink and tell me, 'but always keep them on a leash.'"
"What did that mean?"
Draco gave him a little smile, eyes flashing, "she could sense the bit of chaos, the desire for destruction, I think."
Harry hummed, "What did you want to destroy?"
"Oh, it changes," he replied easily. "When I was sixteen, the last time she said those words to me, I wanted to burn the entire world to the ground."
A shiver raced up Harry's spine, he remembered feeling the same way at sixteen. "And now?" he asked.
"I always thought it would go away," Draco said, "after I fell in love, after I had given the fire within me permission to consume someone the way I've consumed you."
Harry made a soft noise, low in his throat in agreement.
"The way I've let myself be consumed," he added. "But there's still this desire to burn down the past, to start fresh."
He nodded slowly, "that makes sense, actually."
"What if-" Draco started before snapping his jaw shut and clenching his fist around the fire to put it out.
"What if..." Harry prompted, moving to straddle Draco's hips, looking down at his lovely face.
Draco swallowed and rested his head against the back of the sofa, staring up at him. "What if we did start over? What if we moved to the states, or moved to some muggle city? What if-"
"Yes," Harry said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Draco's lips, fingers skimming up his neck. "Godric, yes," he said, living in the world as the chosen one had only gotten harder since defeating Voldemort.
"What if I burned down the Manor first?" he whispered.
He felt his eyebrows hit his hair line, "What?"
Draco shrugged nonchalantly, but Harry could see the tension in his jaw, the fear of being too much. "Just," he sighed, "no one lives there. It's full of dark, cursed magic and even darker, more cursed memories." He blinked up at Harry, "What if I burned it first?"
He stared at him for a long moment, just searching his face, and finding only earnest desire there. "Alright," he said finally.
"Yeah?" Draco asked.
Harry nodded and leaned in to kiss him again, Draco's palms skimmed up his back and sides, touching him reverently.
"Pack for us?" he asked when he pulled back.
"Everything?"
Draco shrugged, "not furniture."
He closed his eyes and gathered his magic for a moment, letting it pool in his gut before holding out a hand and snapping. The contents of the flat organized themselves into boxes, shrinking down until everything fit into a tote that they could easily put into the back of the beat up old Subaru that Harry had purchased and refit with magic.
"Fucking hot," Draco said, pulling his face down and kissing him soundly.
Harry let himself get swept up in the moment, lost himself in the fire of Draco's kiss, let himself be consumed as Draco's fingers slipped under his shirt, nails raking up his back.
Far too soon in Harry's opinion, Draco was pulling back, flushed and panting. "Drive us as close as we can get to the Manor?" he asked, "then I'll get us through the wards?"
He nodded and stood, tugging Draco up behind him and out the door. The Subaru brought them faithfully through the night to the Manor and Harry parked just on the other side of the wards.
They climbed out of the car and Draco reached for Harry's hand, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him. Harry took it and they were being moved through time and space to a hill where they could see the whole of the Malfoy estate, the Manor centered in front of them.
There was fire flickering in and out of the hand that wasn't clasping Harry's and he watched the other man carefully. "Are you sure about this? You don't have to-"
"No, I know," Draco said. "And there's a part of me that doesn't want to. I loved this home when I was young."
"We could-"
"But it feels all wrong now," he said, shaking his head. "Can't you feel it?" he asked without looking at Harry, "the way that the darkness seeps from this place, it's killing everything around it," he added, pointing to the forest and the meadows, even the yard was brown and dead.
Draco shook his head, "For a little while, it felt like all I had was this fire burning within me, ready to scorch the earth, to wipe out that maniac and everything he stood for. I just feel like there's something more for me out there."
He slid his fingers through Draco's, holding the hand that wasn't currently holding fire. "There is," he promised, raising Draco's knuckles to his lips.
"I don't think that you can tame your demons," he said softly like he wasn't talking to Harry at all. "And I don't think you can keep them on a leash, either," he added. "I think the only thing to do is to destroy them entirely."
Without another word, he released Harry's hand and held up both of his, letting balls of flames build in his palms before hurling them down toward the Manor. As soon as those were sent on their way, he started on two more, then two more, and so on until the entire building was ablaze, flames leaping dozens of feet in the air.
He threw one last ball of fire, then collapsed. Harry dropped with him, reaching out for him and supporting him as they watched the representation of his old life, of everything evil, burn.
What could have been minutes or hours later, they heard the sound of distant sirens and the first few firefighters apparated in, wands blowing streams of Aguamentis at the raging fire.
"Time to go," Draco said, squeezing Harry's hand and apparating directly into the car.
"Where are we headed?" Harry asked, starting the car and punching the button that turned it invisible.
Draco hummed, turning his head and staring at Harry with a thoroughly blissed out, content expression on his face.
He leaned across the center console and kissed him, "You're so," he shook his head and kissed him again, "fucking amazing."
Humming, Draco kissed him back before redirecting his attention to the open sky, "the world's ours. Wherever you want to go," he shrugged, "we're free."
And it never really mattered where they went, there were always plenty of things to find joy in if they were together.
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Read more of my fics inspired by songs
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spiral awakening
my father used to light
so much on fire
we'd watch it together
my mother was a tornado
her eyes were only alive
when she knew she could take
her rage upon my flesh
so many broken brushes
bruising my shoulders
slapping me upside the head
when I made any sort of noise
as a girl with long hair
and the merciless drive of
bristle into snaggled silk
I was born with white hair
now it's copper red
like the taste of blood
in my cheek
when she'd slap me
over and over
looking for a reaction
I refused to give
I was gone
my father called me a
little moon person and sweetpea
he'd tell me I was full of prunes
when I told him the secrets
my imagination would whisper
we went mushroom hunting together
he was the hero of my heart
that never protected me
so how can I blame myself
for always seeking the same
kind of character?
when I had my own children
and saw them in my childhood home
my mother grabbed my son's face
like she used to grab mine
my father turned from the
two year old tears of my daughter
and got into bed while drunk
and naked into the bed
of my brother's wife
I knew I had to burn everything down
I did it in my mind
they were inside that house
and I took an oiled torch
dipped it into my soul
enflamed and consumed
all of them
all of it
peace in ashes
and sometimes feel guilty
that I miss nothing
I sing songs of destruction
as a prayer to myself
because I had to become
the person who saved me
my children know nothing
of fearing those who claim
to love you
that died
with me
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