(Give Me) 20 Good Reasons (Why We Shouldn't Be Together)
by Rice-Ball247
Rice-Ball247: First off, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who read and reviewed my latest oneshot 'My Son'. Because I'm such a prat, and can't wait any longer, I've decided to release the prologue of my next story, because! It's my 17th birthday today (24th July, since FF.N will record this as being the 23rd - Happy Birthday to Daniel Radcliffe, by the way)! I spent all of last night painting Diagon Alley (seriously, pics will be up on LiveJournal later). My party later is a Harry Potter themed dress up party, and of course, I am going to go as Severus Snape! Who wants Snape cake? I want Snape cake!
This story is based on something my friend wrote a few years ago, for the Ryden pairing (Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross). She's given me permission to 'translate' the story into the HP-fandom, but I have changed quite a few things. The concept is the same, though.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling. The title (20 Good Reasons) is from the song of the same name, by Thirsty Merc.
Warning: slash, angst, and if I say anymore, I'll give away the plot.
Thank You: to glitterball for beta-ing this fic for me! The old prologue has been replaced with the edited version, but there is no real need to read it again.
They say love hurts
I wrote that book
I climbed that wall I had one look
But you just came around
To say hello
The streets were filled
With guilty hearts
And here was I right from the start
And I lost everything
When I lost you
- 20 Good Reasons (Thirsty Merc)
Prologue: They Say Love Hurts
The walk from the Hospital Wing to Gryffindor Tower seemed longer than ever, but Harry Potter never slowed his gait as he moved as quickly as possible without breaking into a run. Halfway there, he met up with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. The two instantly ran forwards, embracing their friend in a three-way hug before stepping back with identical expressions of concern.
"What did Madam Pomfrey say…?" Hermione trailed off, one hand clutching Ron's in a death grip, the other lay gently over Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't respond. "…Harry?" He glanced out of a corridor window instead.
"Mate?" Ron nudged Harry a little, telling himself that it couldn't be true. The half-smile on his face was torn between happiness and grief, before fading entirely. "Do you…?"
For a moment, both Ron and Hermione thought that Harry would never respond to them. They exchanged worried glances and turned back in time to see Harry give an almost imperceptible nod. Abject looks of horror washed over their faces before they engulfed Harry in a hug that tried to convey as much love and affection as possible.
Harry would pull through this. He always did.
"How… how much time?" Hermione's voice whispered brokenly, hitching between breathy sobs as she buried her tears into the crook of Harry's neck. The brunet boy felt a large, warm hand, Ron's hand; stroke his back consolingly.
"Five months."
Two-thirds of the Golden Trio closed their eyes in pain. It wasn't enough time. But they would have to make the most of it.
It was a Thursday. Draco Malfoy never particularly liked Thursdays. It meant that the end of the school week was dawning upon them, but there was still one more day to pull through. Draco had had enough of this week as it was. There were probably a number of factors that had, to put it lightly, made Draco's week absolute shite.
1. Classes were now officially in the full swing of things.
2. Crabbe and Goyle were as infuriatingly slow as ever.
3. Blaise Zabini wasn't putting out.
4. Pansy Parkinson was.
5. And Potter – Harry, he mentally amended – was still as oblivious as ever.
The annoying little crush he had developed for the 'precious Gryffindor' had been driving him up the wall since the end of their sixth year, coming at a rather inconvenient (and rather inappropriate) time. It was a period when the entire Wizarding population of Britain seemed to be put under much strain. The Dark Lord – Voldemort, Draco again corrected himself – was as active as ever and it didn't help that Draco's parents were very much in the midst of things.
Draco had lived in fear, for a while, that his father would do as Voldemort had asked and turn his own son, his flesh and blood, into one of the Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy had thoughts on the contrary. Without alerting his wife or son of his plans, Lucius sought out the help of Severus Snape, who in turn, directed him to Albus Dumbledore.
Lucius had walked on thin ice for months, until finally, Harry Potter decided to make a move. Not Voldemort. Harry.
In some foolhardy, no doubt Gryffindor, plan he had concocted in his mind, Harry had successfully managed to lure Voldemort to grounds that could be used to their advantage. Granted, Voldemort would have struck there regardless, but on familiar terrain, and with many allies, Harry had managed to strike down the 'almighty' Dark Lord in the middle of the Great Hall. There was a blinding light when spells collided and what felt like a shockwave began from the eye of the battle and continued outwards.
Draco's breath had caught when he saw Harry fall. He didn't know what had prompted his body into action, but in the span of a few seconds, Draco was at the other's side and had negated any impact. With the power he'd just seen Harry put forth moments before to successfully vanquish Voldemort, it was with great surprise that he held the lightweight body in his arms, so easily. Draco trembled when he felt Harry breath a great sigh of relief, unconsciously, before he stopped breathing altogether.
In an instant, Harry was pulled away from him. People pushed Draco away, screaming at him to "get back, Malfoy!" It was an even greater commotion than when Voldemort had stormed Hogwarts castle. In the flurry, Draco had been pushed further and further away from Harry, who was in the centre of healing spells and potions, and even Muggle revival techniques by the looks of things. Draco knew when he was unwanted.
Barely glancing at his father and mother, who stood in a tight circle of remaining Death Eaters and surrounding Aurors, Draco quietly slipped out of the Great Hall and made his way to his dorm. It felt… strange. The darkest lord of their time had finally fallen and Draco felt no happiness.
It had left as soon as Harry was pulled from his arms, gone as quick as it had come. That light, fluttery feeling made him feel giddy inside. It was then that Draco surmised, he had somehow fallen for that stupid, reckless, dorky-looking, (kinda cute looking), Gryffindor.
He would tell Harry. Eventually.
One day.
Soon.
The sixth year ended and the seventh began. Draco snorted to himself, "You keep telling yourself that, Malfoy."
He watched, longingly, as Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express with something akin to grim on his face. Something was wrong with him, and Draco would find out what, no matter how long it took.
It's funny how you think you have all the time in the world when you're young.
So tell me why-y-y-y
Should I let you go
Give me 20 good reasons
I need to know, yeah
Rice-Ball247: For my sake, please read and review? Tell me what you liked, didn't like etc.