A/N - Written for a writing contest. It's set a few days after Bill and Fleur's wedding.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or 'Hey There Delilah'. Though sometimes I pretend to, to make myself feel better.
Beyond the Distance
He pushed the door to his best friend's room open with his usual aggression; it hit the wall with a very satisfying bang.
"Oy, Viktor, you're back." Poliakoff didn't even look up from what he was doing, which was to make his shoes fly around his bedroom in a frantic waltz that did not keep time whatsoever with the music he was listening to. "How vuz ze vedding?"
Viktor collapsed into his friend's desk chair and ran a hand over his sharp-featured face. "It vuz terrible, to be honest."
The shoes clattered to the floor and Poliakoff sat up, looking at his friend with a nervous expression on his face. "Vhut happened? Vuz it . . her?"
Silent understanding passed between them before Viktor answered, and in that moment Poliakoff's face fell. "She and ze red-head vere together. I should never haff gone. It vuz a disaster, Boris."
"I am so sorry, my friend." They sat in silence for a minute, Viktor mourning, Boris sharing in his friend's agony as they had both done countless times over the years.
"Vhut is this song?" Viktor said suddenly, interrupting their moment. Boris shrugged, blushing scarlet.
"It is a muggle band, from America. Zis song is called "Hey Zere Delilah. I play it on repeat, sometimes."
"Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City?
I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty, yes you do . . ."
"Zis . . . Zis is a good song." Viktor declared. "I vhud like to borrow zis. Vhut instrument is zat?"
Boris thought for a moment. "A guitar, I zink." Viktor stood up, Poliakoff mirroring his actions. "Here." He stopped the music and handed him the radio. "Just tap it and say "Hey Zere Delilah", and it vill play it for you."
Viktor took the radio and, on impulse, pulled his friend in for a quick hug. "Zank you, Boris."
- -
The next few days passed in a flurry of activity. Viktor's first stop was a muggle music shop, where he somehow managed to barter six sickles and a galleon for an ordinary acoustic guitar (leaving the shopkeeper staring in awe at the coins, which were undoubtedly solid silver and gold, and worth more than his whole shop and everything in it). The next step was to cast a simple charm on his guitar, so that his hands would move along with whatever song was playing at the time. Then he sat down and began to write.
He was alone in his room when Boris came by. The latter didn't knock; the door merely opened to show to 21-year-old Bulgarian wearing a pair of pyjama pants and a muggle 'hoodie' sweater.
Viktor was singing, his eyes closed as his hands moved over the strings. D chord, F chord, another D, another F . . .
Hey zere Hermony, vhut's in like back zere in England?
I am sure zat it's much varmer zan it is back here in my land
vhere it's cold
right now I look so very old,
or so I'm told."
He trailed away when he noticed that Poliakoff was watching him.
"Zat vuz nice," Boris said, moving to sit beside his friend. "Vill you sing it to her?"
Viktor shook his head, putting his guitar gently back in its case. "No," he muttered, sadly. "Zat door is closed. For both of us."
Boris patted the famous Quidditch player's back, and 'Hey There Delilah' played on in the background.
A/N - it's not very good, and I think I messed up on the accent, but whatever. XD