A/N: Purely written to see if I still have enough willpower in me to carry a story all the way through. I have about five fics on the go at the moment, none of them finished because I get bored far too easily. Please, enjoy!
Gone
Harry stared out of the window at the grey sky that churned restlessly overhead. His forehead rested against the cold glass of the window that sent chills through him; numbed him.
He hadn't spoken to Draco in weeks. The blond flashed through his thoughts everyday and Harry saw him everywhere he went, constantly just out of reach. He knew it would be possible to make amends now: the damage was done.
"Harry?" Ron's head poked around the door of the dormitory. "Do you want to come down for lunch?" His sounded far too casual to be natural, awkwardness crept into his tone. Well of course, everyone knew what had happened. Harry wished they didn't. He wanted to keep it private. He wanted to shut himself off from the world, avoid any contact with people whose eyes would narrow with concern and pity every time he entered a room. He wanted it all to stop. He wanted Draco back.
"Yeah, sure," replied Harry, "I'll just grab a jumper. Meet you in the common room?"
"Cool," Ron smiled, relieved.
Turning away from the window to rummage in his suitcase, Harry saw a flash of white blond hair outside in the grounds. He spun back round to press his nose against the glass, hoping to see Draco, but he had disappeared. For one magical moment, Harry had imagined flinging open the window and calling out to the Slytherin, putting things straight, getting things back the way they were. I'm going mad, he thought, shaking his head and aiming for the common room, grabbing a discarded jumper on the way out.
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"Nice weather," grimaced Hermione, looking up at the stormy ceiling of the Great Hall. The conversation between the Golden Trio was inane and dull; both Ron and Hermione were still studiously ignoring the huge metaphoric elephant of Draco in a vain attempt to steer Harry's thoughts away from the blond and on to more productive things.
Harry wasn't listening to the chatter, instead gazing over to the Slytherin table where he could have sworn he saw Draco's cold, grey eyes flash in his direction. Imagining things now? Harry mused to himself. There was no chance Draco would even look at him now.
"You know what?" Harry cut across the dispute over the advantages of eagle feather quills over peacock, "I think I'm going to go for a walk." And he got up and left.
Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried look as their best friend hurriedly exited the Great Hall.
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Harry sat on the grass by the lake, hoping to catch a glimpse of Draco across the lawns. Never going to happen, said the voice inside his head.
He hated being alone. Every day he missed Draco's sharp tongue and quick wits; every night he missed the Slytherin's warmth. Harry had felt privileged the first time Draco had let his guard down around him. He loved being the only one who saw Draco truly smile, and loved even more the fact that it was him who could make the blond's face split into a grin that radiated mischief and happiness.
He remembered nights spent in the Slytherin dormitory, he and Draco lying in silence until each drifted into sleep. He remembered days spent in the outer edges of the forest, hidden from their friends and the world simply in order to spend time together, alone.
And he remembered the fight. Draco's lips curled in fury as he spat out words and curses. Harry staring in disbelief as Draco vanished, so suddenly, from his life.
He was woken from his reverie by the sight of Draco, clear as day, standing on the opposite bank of the huge expanse of water between him and Harry. He never used to come down to the lake.
Shocked, Harry called out. "Draco?"
The pale boy didn't seem to hear him.
"Draco?"
Harry stood up, shaking. He wanted Draco to hear him. To notice him and come back to him. It seemed to Harry that if he could just get Draco to look at him, he could get things back the way they were.
"DRACO," he bellowed, every muscle in his body aching for Draco to turn around.
Light rain started to spatter the ground, creating delicate ripples in the smooth surface of the great lake.
Draco began to walk away and Harry panicked. He couldn't reach the Slytherin despite how much he desperately wanted to. Cursing the distance between them, he screamed, "DRACO," tears running down his cheeks and mingling with the now heavy rain that pounded at his face, beating at the ground.
"DRACO," Harry cried, grappling at the air, hoping beyond hope that the blond so far out of his grasp would hear him. "DRACO."
Draco was disappearing fast and Harry was falling to pieces as he did so. He couldn't stand being without the Slytherin. He wanted him, needed him back in his life.
"DRACO. DRACO, COME BACK. I NEED YOU," he shouted and shouted into the empty grounds. "Come back, I need you." He fell to his knees, sobs racking his fragile form. "I need you. I love you."
Images ripped once more through his mind. Draco's lips curled in fury as he spat out words and curses at his masked father, wand slicing through the air. Harry staring in disbelief as a bolt of green light whipped through the night sky, hitting Draco square in the chest. The shock in Draco's face as he flew backwards and vanished from Harry's life so suddenly. Harry's strangled screams and choked sobs as he clung to Draco's lifeless form.
"I love you," Harry whispered into the rain, "come back."
Woot! Kind of inspired by a line in Blowdry (WATCH IT) but otherwise just an excuse to get a bit dramatic with myself. Did everyone see that coming? Was it blindingly obvious?
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