A/N: Written for Jenna McCoy's "Lyric Challenge 2"
A Draco/Harry centered friendship (if you can call it that) story. Song used is Pray- Justin Bieber. Lyrics from the song used in the story are underlined. Prompts are "whiskey" and "green".
Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter *cue sob*
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"Mum! Dad!" Albus screams in excitement hopping off the train. He had just completed his first year at Hogwarts, and as promised, had written them every week. He was still in school robes, his green Slytherin tie hung proudly around his neck.
"Hey kid," Harry says laughing as his youngest son launches himself into his arms. "Where's your brother?"
"Who cares? I want you to meet my best friend, the one I wrote to you about."
A small blonde boy around the same age as Albus walks up to the family, a timid smile gracing his face.. "Hello," he says shyly.
"Oh he looks just like his father," Ginny whispers, smiling back at the young boy. "Without the smirk."
"You know my father?" He asks her, curiousity shining on his innocent face.
Before either could answer, the man in questions appears before them, his left hand resting softly on his son's shoulder.
"Potter," he says curtly, holding out his free hand. "Mrs. Potter," he nods to Ginny.
"It's been a long time," Harry says grasping it in a firm shake.
"17 years as of, yesterday if you want to be exact" His infamous smirk gracing them with it's presence. "You look well,"
"As do you." They stare in silence, both remembering the day they had last seen each other.
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It's 1998 and Harry is in an abandoned church. The Battle of Hogwarts was long, with dozens of casualties from both sides; but once it was clear that they were on the losing side, Harry and all those who stood with him began to retreat. They fled to the forest, apparating to different parts of England. It was had been the agreed on plan should things go wrong; everyone would hide out on their own and three weeks from that day they would regroup in Godric's Hollow.
When the day finally comes, Harry finds himself standing face to face with Draco Malfoy, wands drawn.
"There's a war going on outside, in case you didn't know." Draco tells him, his arm shaking as he clutches his wand tighter than necessary.
"Then what are you doing in here?" he asks.
Stepping forward out of the shadow Draco examines the bloody boy-who-wouldn't-die. He had heard about what transpired in the Forbidden Forest, dumbstruck at the thought of anyone surviving the killing curse. Harry is thin and fragile, a shadow of a man who once had been. "I'm obeying orders," he says, lowering his wand, "took us three bloody weeks but we finally found you. I was given the task of bringing you out to him alive."
"Shame," Harry mutters, his voice void of any emotion. He mimics Draco's motion, lowering his arm once he was sure he wasn't going to be attacked. "I thought we'd have more time." Sighing he sits in the nearest pew, motioning for Draco to do the same
"Have you been here this whole time?" He stares curiously at Harry, an odd wave of sympathy washing over him.
"Yeah." 21 days, 4 hours,5 minutes and 47 seconds.
"What do you do in here day after day? "
"I pray," Draco can't help but scoff at the idea of prayer. If there was a god, he had abandoned them years ago. What kind of god would allow evil such as he to exist.
""What do you pray for?" Draco asks.
"For the ones not breathing," Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Fred, Remus, Tonks and god only knew who else.
"Yeah there are plenty of those," Draco mutters bitterly. Harry says nothing, but hands him the bottle of whiskey he had been saving for this particular day, the day it all would end.
"I pray for all the souls in need too" He whispers, staring directly at Draco.
"Don't bother," He tells Harry, taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, "our souls aren't worth saving."
An hour of silence passes, the only interaction between the two men being the hand-off of the whiskey bottle.
"They're gone Potter"
Against his better judgment, Harry asks the question he already knows the answer to.
"Who?"
Draco winces, refusing to say their names. "You know who."
Of course he knows. He knew days ago when he woke up with that inexplicable feeling of dread. Before the sun set that day, he felt as if he had just lost both his arms.
Ron and Hermione.
"You loved them." Draco's voice cracks, longing and craving for the kind of friendship he was forced to watch them share while growing up. It was part of the reason he hated the three of them so much; they had something he would never have, a weakness his father never allowed him to have. Staring at the broken man in front of him, Draco silently thanks his dead father; the bastard had saved him from the heartache he was forced to witness day after day since the start of this war.
"I do," Harry responds, his voice hollow, more emotionless than before if possible.
"How much?"
"More than they'll ever know. "
Draco stares at his enemy in amazement. He had lost no one in this war, he had loved no one; and he was a bloody mess. Potter, on the other hand, just lost the biggest part of his life.
"How do you do it Potter? How can you possibly get through this war after losing them?"
Harry closes his eyes, and for the first time allowed himself to feel the pain of losing his best friends. He cries, harder than he had ever cried in his life, and he clings to all he has left; the very reason for his existence.
"I close my eyes and I can see a better day." He barely manages to say the words, his cries so loud, so heartbreaking and painful, it stabs through Draco's heart
"Even without them?" Draco asks
He chokes back a sob, on the verge of dropping to his knees and begging Malfoy to kill him; swiftly and painlessly, because he knew Malfoy would if he asked. He would show him the kind of mercy Riddle would not.
"Even without them," he echoes, his tears finally subsiding.
"He knows I'm in here in with you. If we stay here any longer they'll come looking for us." Malfoy whispers, the fear in his eyes so transparent. Harry can't help but feel for the lost soul. He watches in silence as Malfoy slouches against a wall and slides to the ground clutching his face in agony
"You have to kill me," he cries, rocking back and forth, "Kill me or he will if I leave this church without you."
"Have you ever killed anyone Malfoy?" Harry looks down at him; broken, defeated, hopeless. Perhaps they weren't so different
"I never had the nerve," he sobs into his arms. Reaching down Harry grasps him by the upper arm and pulls him up. "Neither have I. So I'm not going to kill you Malfoy. I'll go with you."
"Are you mental?" Malfoy practicall yscreams, "Why?"
"Because I don't think you're evil," Harry tells him seriously, releasing his grip on the other man's arm.
"Then you're the only one."
They stare at each other, the empty bottle of whiskey long forgotten on the floor next to them. Hardened by so much war and pain at such a young age, neither could feel the effects of the alcohol. Both were hoping it would numb them from the pain they had suffered, but that relief would not come so easily; they would not find refuge from this war in a bottle, not until it was all over.
"I'm sorry," Draco whispers, blinking rapidly as tears began to cloud his vision. He stands motionless as he watches Draco point his wand at his head.
"Don't be," Harry smiles, his eyes still blank one couldn't tell he was smiling if not for the curl of his lips. "You never had a choice."
Turning around Harry raises his hands as he feels the tip of Draco's wand on the back of his head. "Neither did you," he says, finally realizing what he wish he had years ago. They weren't so different from each other. He marches them out the door and only to be met with the biggest war the wizarding world has ever seen. The sunlight blinds Harry and so he squints, eyes attempting to adjust to the light. All movement ceases as both sides stop and stare at the two men who had just emerged from the church.
"You're mine Potter," Riddle hisses.
The battle resumes.
"The snake is dead," Malfoy whispers, "When Longbottom went down he took that bloody reptile with him." With those words he shoves Harry towards Voldemort and quickly raises his wand to cast a shield on himself.
The last horcrux had been destroyed.
He wonders if he can win this. The thought of joining his two bestfriends in the afterlife is highly appealing to him as he watches his fellow comrades fall beside him.
And then he sees her; red hair contrasting so vividly against the green of all the trees and grass.. Neither Voldemort nor his death eaters see her though, everyone focused on their own survival. Their eyes lock and she smiles at him, her eyes shining with happiness at the sight of him. She looks terribly thin, pale as a sheet; but she's breathing.
She's alive.
She smiles at him.
He raises his wand.
"I'm going to win," he whispers.
And for the first time in months,
Harry Potter smiles.