"Falling Slowly"
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
"Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got ti-ime…
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You've made it now"
-Falling Slowly (Once)
Harry stared into the fireplace. At one point, a warm body had been curled up next to him. But not tonight. No, tonight that body was probably warming someone else up. And, as Harry stared into the beautiful fire, he wondered what it would be like to burn…
--
Draco used to love the night. Back when he had someone to share it with, at least. Now night meant loneliness, and night meant nothingness, and night meant remembering. He sighed, and wondered what it would be like to be a star…
--
Harry was sitting in front of the fire, his arm outstretched, almost in the flames…
--
Draco sat on the windowsill, his legs and feet dangling out into the cool night air. He could jump from here, he thought…
--
Harry flinched. The flames were hot (burning he sardonically thought), and he could barely bring himself to go into the fireplace…
--
Draco continued to look to the stars. He didn't want to look at the stars alone anymore, he decided.
--
Harry's hand was o-so-close to being inside the flames, consumed by the flames, when suddenly a head popped into them.
"What the fu—" Harry muttered, skittering backwards in shock.
"Harry…" Draco's voice sounded pleading.
Harry moved closer to the fire. "I thought you wanted out…" He whispered.
Draco hung his head. "I thought I did…" He glanced up at Harry through lengthening bangs. "But I was wrong."
Harry's mind froze. "Then why… why are you here?" He stuttered out.
"Because—" Draco whispered, "I don't want to watch the stars alone anymore."
And Harry found the fire beautiful for a completely different reason.