#set adrift

A short comic I made in 2019. It was my first piece of fiction writing and my first multi-page comic. It has served as a jumping off point for a wider setting I've been thinking about.

Just like I thought, Brad wasn’t interested in going to a pumpkin patch, but it was cool since everyone else came. We all had a really great time picking out small pumpkins that we could paint, filling up on apple cider donuts and pumpkin muffins, and riding in a hayride. It wasn’t as chilly that day, which was awesome, but it only made me wish that Matt and I had found some time to be alone. I mean, this time we could have kissed without having to worry about the wind messing it up for us.

New OC aaa- 

Set Adrift

tessarwyn

Chapters: 13/13 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Drama, Romance, Explicit Language, Character Death, Sexual Content Summary:

Adrift in uncharted territory isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not at all. This story is complete.

Excerpt:

As soon as their children were out of sight, Draco’s expression shifted to devastation before he dropped his face into his hand, his slender shoulders shaking.

“Draco? Are you all right?” asked Harry, concerned at the abrupt change, although he had a fair intuition as to the reason. “Draco,” he whispered, trying to respect the other’s need for privacy, but still wanting to reach out to him. “You’re not your father. Not even close.”

Draco raised his head, features pulled into lines of misery. “I swore I would never subject Scorpius to the drivel Father beat into me,” he said quietly. “It’s bad enough he has to live with the legacies bestowed upon him.” He screwed his eyes shut and whispered, “Do you have any idea how awful it is to confess to your child all of the terrible, terrible things you’ve done in the name of Malfoy?”

Harry threw up all of the Privacy and Disillusionment charms he knew and leaned across the table.

“Yeah, you’ve lied and cheated and done any number of horrible things, Draco. I’m willing to bet you don’t need my help listing all the crimes you committed in the name of the Dark Lord. I’m sure you’ve spent many a dark night dwelling on everything you did wrong,” Harry responded, his voice soft and non-judgmental despite his words of condemnation.

Draco’s eyes opened, dark with anguish, and Harry could sense, nearly smell, the other man’s despair. He knew he needed to press on quickly before Draco broke under his burden of guilt and shame.

“You remember everything you wished to forget, but tell me… do you allow yourself to remember exactly how you felt the year you turned sixteen?” Harry demanded and watched Draco flinch away from those memories.

“How at first you felt honoured to be Marked, that being given the order to kill one of the most powerful wizards in the world was a tacit recognition of your skills. Do you recall how little time passed before you comprehended the nearly insurmountable task you’d been assigned, the moment you discovered that hell and being a Malfoy were one and the same,” he whispered, pausing to give Draco a chance to rebut his words. When Draco produced the barest of nods, he continued.

“Did you tell Scorpius how it felt to hold people’s lives in your hand? How you could not kill Dumbledore despite knowing the price of failure meant death to you and your parents? Have you told him how it felt to share a house with Voldemort and merciless Death Eaters, witnessing the stuff of nightmares and unable to do anything to help the people they tortured and murdered?”

Harry looked into Draco’s haunted eyes and bled for him. Despite all the naysayers, Harry knew he’d done the right thing when he testified for this man. Although the events seemed vastly different, Harry and Draco shared the knowledge of what it was to be tortured with helplessness and desperation. The boys in them had not survived, but the men had. Harry doubted his own nightmares were any worse than Draco’s; doubted that Draco’s pain was less significant for having been on the ‘wrong’ side of the war.

His eyes locked on Draco’s, Harry slid his hand across the table and tightly grasped the other man’s trembling one.

“Remember my words whenever you doubt yourself,“ he ordered. "You survived when Voldemort didn’t, because like me you had the power he knew not.” Draco’s confusion at his statement flickered across his face; Harry answered the emotion. “Love, Draco. Like me, you love.” With the word, something in Draco’s face began to light. Harry pressed on. “You remained free when your father did not because you discerned the truth and listened to your conscience. You looked in the mirror and did not like who you saw and changed for the better.” He squeezed Draco’s hand and smiled fiercely.

“You’ve grown into a good man, Draco Malfoy, and an even better father. A man I would be proud to name my friend,” Harry said with conviction, and because it was true. He really wanted to be friends with this Draco.

Draco’s eyes shimmered as he held tight to Harry’s hand. “You-I mean, they-” he stopped and forced himself to breathe before trying again. Holding Harry’s eyes, he said, “No one has ever said anything like that to me. Aside from you, Scorpius and my mother, I doubt there is anyone else who would consider me a good man.”

Draco swiped his sleeve across his damp cheeks without looking away or retrieving his hand. “I struggled after the war, loathing myself to the point of suicide. I think Mum felt much the same, but she absolutely refused to give up. Sometimes it was only the knowledge that I would be leaving her alone to face the world that kept me alive.”

Ro sighed. Kicking their legs a little just for the exercise, they watched the oxygen indicator on their HUD blink in the yellow zone. They wondered if any other crew members had survived the crash and were aimlessly floating around like they were. Not that it really mattered, but having some company would be great while they died in fucking space.

Scanning the vast space in front of them, Ro looked at the stars twinkling who knew how far away. They had made peace with the fact they were all but dead already. When they came to and realized they were still alive, adrift with nothing in sight by way of comrades or ship they had screamed and thrashed for a while, but that had just been wasting oxygen. Now, there was nothing to do but wait. They tried the radio countless times, but it seemed they were dark.