by star of david
Harry/Draco
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters in this story; they were created by the genius, JKRowling. I do own the plot.
SUMMARY: "I am everything you want." The two have set aside their differences and have become friends after the war, and Harry is invited to Draco's birthday party. Draco sees Harry as a friend, while Harry is tortured within by his unrequited love. A song fic to Vertical Horizon's Everything You Want.
More than five years after the war, and everything is at peace. The Statute of Secrecy is upheld, of course. Muggles continue with their lives, unaware that among them walk powerful beings who can do everything at a flick of a wrist. Wizards and witches go on with their lives as well, walking among Muggles, pretending to be just like them, only a bit more skillful at this and that.
You flip through the photo album you've compiled the past eleven years of your life. You were eleven when you got your first photo of your parents. You distinctly remember how amazed you were when you first found out that the pictures could move. And now the book is teeming with moving photographs. James and Lily, with Sirius and Wormtail, on their wedding day. The Marauders. The original Order. Sirius. You, Ron and Hermione. You and Cho. You and Ginny. You and Parvati. Ron and Padma. Hermione and Krum. A huge group of kids clad in black robes, specks of red, gold, silver, yellow and blue distinct against the sea of black.
You stop flipping as you get to this point. A small smile makes its way to your lips, but it doesn't linger. You try your best to identify every single face on the picture. There you were, with Ron on one side, Hermione on the other. Then there was Neville Longbottom. Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnigan. Lavender Brown. Parvati Patil. Hannah Abbott. Ernie McMillan. Justin Finch-Fletchey. Zacharias Smith. Millicent Bulstrode. Blaise Zabini. Pansy Parkinson. Gregory Goyle. Vincent Crabbe. Draco Malfoy.
Your eyes linger at Malfoy's white-blond hair and smug expression. For some inexplicable reason, you had always wanted to be like him. He wasn't dumb -- he got nice marks in Potions not only because he was Snape's favorite, but because he really did know his ingredients. He was good at Defense Against the Dark Arts too. Why wouldn't he be? He practically grew up with Dark magic all around him. He wasn't too bad in Herbology, either. Or Care of Magical Creatures, except when he was tormenting Hagrid. He certainly had charisma -- he had all the girls (and some of the boys) fawning over him. He was a good flier too.
Your eyes dart to the elegant envelope resting on your bedside table. You close the photo album and grab the envelope. You carefully take out the piece of parchment inside it.
Dear Mr. Potter,
You are cordially invited to Master Draco Lucius Malfoy's twenty-third birthday on the fifth of July, year two thousand and three. This will be at the Grand Ballroom of the Malfoy Manor.
Master Draco patiently awaits your RSVP via owl post.
You had sent your RSVP weeks ago. You weren't at all surprised that you were invited to Draco's twenty-third. Your friendship had begun as soon as school ended, for some reason. Here you found out that he was fiercely faithful and loyal to his friends. He was quite the compassionate one. The Draco you came to know after Hogwarts was very different from the Draco you encountered inside the castle walls. You came to find that he is everything you want, everything you need.
You slowly fell in love with the blond-haired boy you hated in school.
You replace the parchment inside its envelope and begin to get dressed. Draco's party is in two hours. You shower and change into a smart black suit. Checking your reflection in the mirror and deciding you looked decent enough, you Apparate into the Malfoy Manor's Grand Ballroom.
The ballroom is a spectacular sight to behold, unlike anything you'd ever seen in your entire life. You spot old Hogwarts friends and quickly walk over to them and begin catching up on each other's lives. House rivalries are a thing of the past now -- everyone had moved on and become friends. You listen inattentively as Neville talks about his experience working with Muggle botanists in one of his most recent projects. You nod your head occasionally as your eyes frantically search the ballroom for any sign of the white-blond hair you had come here for.
A flash of white catches the corner of your eye. You sharply turn and you see the sight you've been waiting for all night. You excuse yourself from the group as you make your way through the throng of people in the ballroom.
"Draco!"
He turns.
"Harry!" His eyes light up, delighted to see you finally after so long. He wraps you in an embrace. You feel the love -- the platonic, friendly love, that is.
You manage to smile despite your great disappointment. You greet him a happy birthday and hand him your present. He thanks you for it and tells you to help yourself to everything and enjoy. He'll be right back, he says before walking away.
You oblige. The food is great, and the drinks are fantastic. You drain glass after glass of Firewhisky, not minding the burning sensation it creates on your esophagus.
Soon Draco comes back. He claps you on the back and comments on the redness of your face. "You've been indulging in Firewhisky again, my friend," he laughs.
My friend. You laugh as well.
He calls a tall girl over. The girl is beautiful. She has big brown eyes, high cheekbones, and a fair, smooth complexion. He introduces this beautiful lady as his girlfriend, and you nearly choke on your nth glass of Firewhisky. You manage a smile, a handshake, and a greeting. The girl excuses herself from and walks off to meet with some other guests.
At that moment, you decide that Draco Malfoy means nothing to you.
Of course, that's easier said than done.
"So, where's the lucky lady?" Draco asks you. You give him a puzzled look, and he responds with, "Your girlfriend?"
"Oh," you say. "Nope, no girlfriend." You ask for another Firewhisky.
"Waiting for someone to put you together, huh?" says Draco.
"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah," you reply nonchalantly. "Sure."
"Yeah, better to wait for the right one than end up with the wrong one," he offers you a piece of advice. "She --" he points to the girl he introduced to you earlier "-- is everything I want and need. Good thing I waited."
You hear your heart shatter.
Oh, it wasn't your heart. It was the wine glass you'd been holding. You unconsciously let go of it. You apologize over and over, and Draco tells you not to mind the broken pieces.
She is everything I want and need. His words echo in your head.
But how can you not mind them when they're the shards of your broken heart?
You apologize again. You've probably had too much to drink, you tell the celebrant. That wasn't exactly a lie -- you have been drinking a lot. And maybe your face is so red from all the Firewhisky that Draco doesn't contradict you anymore. You tell him you're going now, and you thank him for the incredibly nice party. You greet him a happy birthday again. He shakes your hand and thanks you for coming.
You blink, and you're back in your apartment, away from the gray-eyed boy you love unrequitedly.
I am everything you want, you tell him in your head. I am everything you need.
You lie down on your bed without even changing clothes. Your suit reeked of Firewhisky.
But I mean nothing to you, now do I?