A/N: Bless insomnia. Thank you Emelle, for being an awesome beta.

Laughing

I don't understand how they did it. How they managed to stay sane. They went through all the losses that I did, saw the same things. Yet still they moved on with their lives: I didn't have a life to move on to.

I'm actually surprised that no one noticed. That they didn't hear my screams at night; didn't see the shadows under my eyes – they just saw me as their saviour. And I played along, got interviewed by The Prophet; laughed, made appearances at the ministry. I held everything in, all the people I saw dying before my eyes, the blood on the walls, the screams still ringing in my ears.

Then one day, I exploded.

It was in the middle of the Ministry of Magic, in the entrance hall. I had just witnessed an old Death Eater get the Dementor's Kiss, right before my eyes. I couldn't take it anymore, so I flipped. Now that I think about it, I don't remember much. All I can remember is that I took my wand, blew up the fountain, and then burned the place to the ground.

All while I was laughing. Yes, laughing. It wasn't that hollow laugh that I used to have: it was a cruel laugh, echoing loud as people ran out from the flames. Of course, they came after me. Bound me with chains, dragged me away to Azkaban, and put me into a cell. I was still laughing. They said I was insane, turned their backs away from me. I laughed even more.

After a few minutes in the very damp, dreary cell, my eyes started adjusting to the darkness and I noticed something. There was a man curled up in the corner, his head buried into his knees. I could spot dirty blond hair and a skinny – and dirty – body. I watched him for a while, and if I hadn't seen his chest move slightly up and down, I would have though he was dead.

Eventually, I fell asleep on the cold stone floor. When I woke up, I found grey eyes piercing into my own. Now that I could see his whole body – he was so skinny! I could see his ribs so clearly! - I noted that I knew this man. Of course, they had to put me in the same cell as Draco Malfoy.

I started laughing again. Malfoy didn't change his expression though: actually he had no expression. His face was blank and his eyes were dull. I got tired of laughing and then we just sat there, looking at each other.

We didn't talk. Not for weeks. But one night, when the sunset was in progress, Malfoy sat beside me and took my hand. You might think it was a romantic thing. Well, it wasn't. If you had been there you would only have seen two underweight men holding hands in a cold and lonely cell, while red light shined through an aperture in the wall.

Ron and Hermione came next day. They saw Draco sitting beside me, still holding my hand, – yes, I started calling him Draco in my head after he took my hand – and made faces of disgust. I can still remember what they said. "What are you doing with that filth?"

I didn't reply.

"Harry, how are you? You should know that we're very worried about you, and we miss you. But have you really gone so insane that you're holding hands with Death Eater-scum?"

That hurt. A lot.

I told them to leave and never come back. That surprised Draco. So much that he started talking to me.

"Do you remember when we were kids and did something wrong? Then we only got detention. Now we end up in Azkaban," he said and I nodded, having nothing to say. Silence came for a while until Draco broke it again.

"What did you do?" he said and squeezed my hand harder.

"I burned down the Ministry of Magic."

Never in my life, had I ever seen Draco so off guard. His jaw almost hit the floor. I couldn't help but laugh. Again. But this time, instead of just staring at me, Draco laughed with me. We laughed so hard, for so long, the Dementors came and tried to take away our happiness. Of course we weren't laughing because it was fun, no; it was the irony in the situation: the hero burning down the Ministry. I laughed even more at that thought.

After an hour of laughing – I really enjoyed the sound of Draco's laugh – I lay down on the wet cold floor, my stomach hurting. I started shuddering and my teeth were chattering teeth. Then I felt arms around me. Draco had lain down beside me, holding me close. I know it's hard to believe, Draco Malfoy cuddling someone! Even harder is it to believe that that someone was Harry Potter.

Years ago, had someone had told me I would one day be laying on the floor in a cell in Azkaban, being held by Draco Malfoy, I would have hexed them into oblivion.

Now you might wonder what happened later. Did we become best friends, talking with each other all day? Did we become boyfriends kiss? Did we become lovers and fuck each other senseless? Neither actually. We didn't talk, we didn't kiss, we didn't fuck. All we did was to stare at each other, hold hands and laugh. He was just my cellmate. My cellmate that I loved more than life.

You probably think we stayed like that for the rest of our lives. Then I have to disappoint you. I came out only after a few months. After all, I defeated Voldemort. And I took Draco with me. When the minister came to get me out, I didn't let go of Draco's hand. I refused to. So they had to take him too.

When we got new clothes and walked outside – the sun shining and birds twittering – Draco's eyes lit up. The otherwise grey hollow gaze was turned into thousands of hues of mingling greys, whirling around together like a tornado. A bright smile appeared on his face, and I couldn't help but kiss him. I crushed our lips together so hard that I could taste blood. Not that he seemed to mind, as he started running his fingers through my long dirty hair.

Right now, as I'm writing this, a beautiful blonde is laying beside me in the bed and whispering my name in his sleep. I should add that I'm smiling, the corner of my lips almost touching my ears.

Today is Ron and Hermione's wedding. I'm invited, but I'm not going. I've promised Draco to take him shopping. It's been years after I saw Ron and Hermione, so it wouldn't hurt not to see them anytime soon.

Now Draco's waking up! Well, his eyelids twitched and I know he's awake, but wants to sleep more. That slacker. I wonder if I should make him open his eyes by tickling him.

Yep, that will do, I'll tickle him; just to hear him laugh.