Hi guys!!! Here's my disclaimer. Anything involving Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm not making any money off of it. "When Doves Cry" belongs to Prince, and once again, I'm definitely NOT making ANY money from it.
I'm using the Prince version of this song, although I prefer the Quindon Tarver version. But both are great, and worth listening to.
Touch if you will my stomach
Feel how it trembles inside
You've got the butterflies all tied up
Don't make me chase you, even doves have cried
Harry trailed his hand lightly over Draco's stomach, creating a tiny path in the light sheen of sweat there. "Look, Draco, we need to talk. I think that we should stop seeing each other. You know, as it's our last year, with the NEWTS and everything, we really just don't have time. I mean, I have Quidditch and all, and you're Head Boy, so neither of us has the time. I guess maybe we should just cool it for a while."
Draco sat straight up. "Harry, you can't mean that! Why should we break up? We're perfect together! You love me, you told me so, and damn it, I love you as well! What the fuck do you mean by breaking up with me? I'm a Malfoy, damn it. People do not dump me, I dump them, and I do it when I feel like it. So, Potter, don't think you can simply break up with me. It just won't work."
Harry stood up and begin to dress as he spoke. "That's just it Draco. You're a Malfoy, and you think that entitles you to whatever you want. Well, I for one, don't have to do whatever you tell me. Just because you're a fucking Malfoy and your family's a bunch of assholes who think they can do anything, doesn't mean the rest of us have to let you. Besides, we were never a couple. We had great sex, but other than that, there was nothing there. We agreed on it from the beginning, you fucking knew it, and that's all it was. Now, I have Quidditch practice in a bit. I'll see you around, Malfoy." He picked up his wand and strode out of the room.
Draco stared numbly at Harry's receding back. 'You may think that's all it was Potter,' he thought to himself as a single tear slid down his cheek. 'Why the fuck did it have to be so much more for me? Why can't somebody love me, instead of just expecting me to do things for them? Nobody cares for me, not my mother or father, and not even Harry. I fucking thought he loved me! Why the fuck do I even need to be alive?' He picked up his wand, pointed it at his heart, whispered, "Avada Kedavra," and slumped to the ground. And that was how Harry found him later that night.
How can you just leave me standing alone in a world that's so cold?
Maybe I'm just to demanding; maybe I'm just like my father, too bold
Maybe I'm just like my mother, she's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like when doves cry