Title: And Life Goes On….
Chapter 1: The Day My World Ended…
Summary: My world ended right in front of me, and I didn't realise till a month later.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author Notes: Please oh pretty please review after you're done with this chapter. Thank you. Love you all.
Hermione wrapped her arms around me. Fat lot of good it did me. At 2:37 a.m. this morning I realised he was dead. My world had ended right in front of me and it took me a month to realise. Realise that he really wasn't coming back. So now at 2:39 a.m. I'm wrapped in the arms of one of his best friends who's also come to be one of mine.
It happened just after he'd killed Voldemort. He turned to me and gave me that silly, happy grin of his. And he was hit from behind by a new unforgivable. Typical of Voldemort to invent a new one. He looked surprised, and then he crumpled to the floor. He took on the Dark Lord at the age of 11 and a measly death eater killed him at the age of 21. I shot the Avada Kedavra at him and his body joined those of his comrades, and Harry's.
So now I'm in Hermione and Ron's living room crying for all I'm worth, which without him isn't much.
"He's gone." I choked out through a sob.
"I know. It's ok Draco, everything will be ok." She muttered as she rubbed soothing circles on my back.
"How can it be? Harry died right in front of me and there was nothing I could do." I said.
"Exactly, nothing you could do. It wasn't your fault." She said softly.
"It hurts Hermione, it hurts so bad. It feels as if my heart has been ripped out." I said. I felt wetness on my fore head as she joined me in the process of shedding unwanted tears.
"I know. Oh god Draco, I know." She whispered through her own sobs. Five minuets later Ron pressed a cup of hot chocolate into my hand.
"Thanks." I muttered, my tears had all been shed and I was left with an empty hollow inside my chest where Harry used to be. Ron then disappeared again coming back after ten minuets.
"Spare room's made up. You should stay." He said as he sat in the chair next to the fireplace. Hermione sat next to me on the sofa, her arm still wrapped around my shoulders.
"Thanks." I muttered again as I marvelled at how I'd come to have such good friends. It had all been down to Harry. I drank about half of my chocolate before I set it down on the coffee table.
"I'm gonna head to bed. I'm really sorry." I said softly as I stared at my bare feet.
"It's ok. We've been expecting a visit like this since it happened." Hermione said squeezing my shoulders gently. I nodded. Suddenly she hugged me tightly again. And then I felt another pair of arms envelope me. Ron had joined into. It almost made me grin. I cried again instead.
How you may ask did seven years of hate and angry words turn into love and friendship? Gryffindor bravery and stubbornness. At the start of our seventh year Harry realised he was gay. By Halloween he'd decided I was what he wanted. I was horrified. By Christmas I'd warmed to the idea, and by March we were sleeping together.
Here's where Ron and Hermione come in. By the end of May Harry wanted to go public, I didn't. As you can see we had a predicament. So I broke it off. He talked to Hermione, and then Ron. Now Hermione was all for letting things run their course, Ron however hadn't seen Harry as happy as he was since Sirius Black was killed, and seeing his best friend so torn up, and over a Malfoy no less, hurt him.
So Ron, who'd always had slightly more brawn than brains, confronted me about it. He told me what my breaking it off with Harry had done to the Golden Boy and it was then I realised I was in love with Harry James Potter. Ironic eh? So from mid June onwards Ron helped me get him back.
Oh I tried just approaching him and saying I was sorry and that if he really wanted I'd go public, but I'd said some pretty awful things to him just after he'd told me he was in love with me, foolish Gryffindor always wearing his heart on his sleeve, so he told me where I could stuff it.
So with June quickly running out and the holidays drawing nearer, we were set to go our separate ways if he'd had his way, then again he didn't count on meddling friends helping me out.
So when Ron suggested I show up at The Burrow on his birthday and refused to leave until he took me back I agreed and at 3:06 a.m. on the 1st of August he did just to shut me up so he could sleep. We were inseparable after that. Especially when I was disowned by my family and put oh so very near the top of Voldemort's to die list.
After the whole winning back Harry escapade Ron and I still wrote and met up, and we became rather firm friends. Hermione forgave me pretty quickly for everything I'd done to her at school but I was still reluctant when it came to her until one night during the war Harry was hit with a curse. It was nasty, not quiet an unforgivable but it would have killed him pretty soon after had it not been for Hermione. It was safe to say I warmed to her pretty quick after that. And so that was how I came to befriend a mudblood and a weasel. And I wouldn't trade their friendship for anything apart from to have Harry back, and even I know that will never happen it's just not the way the story goes. Nothing is ever 'happily ever after', just 'and they were happy for awhile'….
I always thought I'd lived a good life. I'd destroyed a Dark Lord, fought against him countless times before I did and always been nice to others. Well most others. But as it stands I'm in a new level of hell. I can watch them, hear them but never communicate with them, never interfere. Then again maybe I'm here because of the curse Voldemort invented. It would seem fitting. Eternal torment. Yeah, defiantly the sick fuckers work.
As I watch right now I see him. Curled up in Hermione and Ron's spare room, looking paler than normal, and oh so very small. I can still see the tear tracks on his cheeks. And it hurt my heart so badly. And I've never wanted to just reach out and hold him more than I do right now. But I can't and it makes me feel even worse.
I remember the feeling of dieing. It was as if my spirit was a kite and someone had cut the string holding me inside my body. It didn't hurt, I just felt disconnected all of a sudden, and then I was here. I what seems to be a grey cell. I'm chained to the wall by my wrists, ankles and waist and the wall opposite me is like a huge cinema screen. That screen is my last connection to him.
My gaze fell back to it and he's crying fresh tears now. Huge, heaving sobs, that seems to break his slight frame. I feel trails of water on my own cheeks as I cry for him. And as always now I'm crying I feel as if I'll never stop. Never stop grieving for Draco, who I'll never get to hold again, never get to kiss again, never make love to again. He was my lover, my friend, my missing piece, still is but I'll never fit again, because where I am now, he can't follow, and if it means he never has to endure this pain I feel, I would never want him to.
Sirius Black was a strong man. He'd been able to not go insane as he sat behind the veil in The Department of Mysteries. He knew he was dead, but he also knew that if someone was to pull back the veil he could walk out. And that is what drove everyone else mad. The mere knowledge that they could just get up and leave if someone dared draw back that tattered piece of black cloth was enough to drive any average person to lunacy.
But Sirius Black had survived Azkaban, he was damned if he'd fail now. So patiently he sat there, not quiet twiddling his thumbs but not doing anything particularly useful. Then again how could he do anything when he was dead? For the first, what could have been minuets or hours, he'd been behind the veil he'd screamed for someone, anyone, hell he'd have been pleased to see Snape during that time, but alas no one had come, so he sat and waited, not quiet twiddling his thumbs. Yet.
As the hours turned into days and the days into months Draco felt himself begin to heal. It was a strange feeling really, but when he woke in the morning he knew that he would be able to go on living without Harry as painful as that thought was. It was around this time that Harry was no longer able to view him. They'd stopped him seeing Hermione and Ron a few weeks back but to be cut off from Draco as well? Harry decided he'd rather be sliced open and left to bleed.
That was until they decided to show him someone he'd been missing since he was fifteen. They showed him Sirius Black. And somehow he knew why he could view Sirius. Sirius wasn't completely dead. He knew that if he'd fought harder against Remus that awful day, he'd have been able to have his Godfather back. If he'd only managed to pull back the veil, he could have pulled Sirius out. And that hurt just as much as seeing Draco and his friends in pain.
And after awhile he decided it was worse, that it hurt more than seeing or not seeing Draco because Sirius was stuck, he couldn't leave or move on. He wasn't really dead but he wasn't quite alive either. And if by chance the veil was pulled back it could be in a time when everyone Sirius had known was dead. Yes, there was defiantly nothing more painful than this. Until Draco moved on that was….