TITLE: Silver AUTHOR: Wildmoonflower DISCLAIMER: these characters do not belong to me blah blah. They are the property of JK and WB. Long may they live. RATING: uh PG-PG13 NOTES: just a short fic, kinda depressing and so on. I wrote this awhile ago and only just remembered it. So enjoy and check out my other stories- sequel to How Voldemort was defeated by an asda lorry coming SOON! Please review but no flames please. PS- this is not slash, I have nothing against slash but I just don't want those who do attacking me. So review please-I love u all!
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November, two years after Harry Potter's graduation from Hogwarts. He is presently being held hostage in Hogwarts by Voldemort's Death Eaters along with other wizards who are fighting on the side of good. Meanwhile outside the war still rages on and on...
I look back on it all and wonder why I never saw it in him before. He who taunted, laughed and hurt me. War is a terrible thing. It is said to leave permanent scars. It left me one. It's just a game, he said, just a game.
I walked down the dark corridors of Hogwarts; the dim candles barely enough to keep me from tumbling over loose flooring or down stairs. The whole place was as silent as the grave. Death Eaters patrolled all over smiling at the fact that they had our wands and we were powerless against them. I laughed slightly as I passed one, out of sheer nervousness, my clammy hands tightly gripping my cloak. Had I been older perhaps I could have been of more help in the war. But was it fair of them really, to lay everything on me because I am the Boy who lived. How could I, a mere teenager have been expected to save the entire wizarding world from a wizard ten times more powerful than I could ever hope to be?
He said he wouldn't leave me. He hated me but he wouldn't leave me. He said I was the only one who understood him yet I never understood him not one bit.
White blond hair, a flash of silver eyes. "Draco!" I called.
Flash of white teeth, a thin body seating itself next to mine. "Still alive Potter?" In jest, we had got over our childish rivalry long ago.
"Yes, how are you?" Eyes flashing in hidden pain. He didn't, couldn't cope with the way Voldemort had us captive. The way they treated us, tortured us. He would look blank, pretend it didn't hurt but I knew, I knew. The blank look flashed over again. Silver pools reflecting nothing but my face.
"Surviving Potter."
"Don't stop." I said.
Silver smile. Liar. "Stop what?"
"Surviving." I need you to go on.
"I won't, sleep easy Potter. I'll see you in the morning and don't look so worried. It's not like I'm going anywhere." Silver is gone. I smiled, comforted for a while. If only for a while.
Where did he get it? How long did he have it? Did he always plan on it? Why?
The night was dark. I sat opposite a glowing red fire in the Gryffindor common room. Draco sat with me his blank eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "I don't ever want to get old Potter."
I met his eyes. Silver pools dragging me down. "Then don't" Silence, my eyes searching his for any sign of feeling. His eyes though showing me nothing looked infinitely old. Too old for a boy of nineteen.
"You'll get old though Potter. Old and grand."
"What if I don't want to?"
"You will."
But can you save me? Come on and save me!
Screams came from me over and over but echoing in my ears were his. Silver boy his sobs invading my head and making me feel his pain as well. Blows got harder curses got worse but I still called to him. "Hang on Draco. Survive!" Later I dressed his wounds. I watched him flinch in pain as I applied ointment. He was too young. We were all too young.
"Don't pity me Potter." I stayed silent. "Do you hear me Potter? I'm fine. I'm surviving."
"Are You?"
He glared "Are You?"
I wanted to say yes but I couldn't. I was going through hell as well but at least I could admit it. He never did. He pretended it was nothing, said he was fine. Lied to me again and again. If only I had seen that then I could have saved him but I was taken in by his calm eyes, failing to see the troubled seas below.
Everything dies Harry. Not you, not yet. Can't you see, couldn't you see I needed you I'll always need you and I'll never have you again.
They killed her. The flame haired sister of my best friend. And we had to watch. Draco fell back clutching at me. I couldn't tear my eyes away. Her body writhed in pain for what seemed like years and then fell silent. Cold and lifeless. "I don't want to die like that Harry."
I looked at him, silver eyes pleading with me. "You won't Draco." He was silent for a while.
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"So do I" He walked away. Black cloak swishing behind him. I watched him go debating over whether to follow him or not. For no reason whatsoever panic invaded me and I took off after him. Following to where I guessed he had gone.
Crying every night. Silver eyed boy you give me no sleep. Don't you understand that what you did cut deep?
I opened the door to the Slytherin common room. There he was, dressed in a white shirt and black jeans, his long white blond hair hanging loose. A small round table was set up in the middle of the room with two chairs sitting opposite each other at it. There was something on the table; I struggled to make it out in the dim light. It was a gun. "I knew you would follow me." He said.
"That's a gun Draco."
Silver eyes turned to me no longer blank but reflecting so much pain that I wanted to cry. "Play a game with me Harry."
I shook my head "No, I won't play with death."
"Everyone dies."
"Not you, not yet."
He walked over to the gun and took all the bullets out and then he put one back in twisting it so he didn't know where it was. He slammed it down on the table. "Play."
"No."
He walked over silver eyes glinting angrily. "It's just a game Potter. Play."
I sat down and he took the seat opposite. He reached out and spun the gun. It pointed to me. "No."
"Fine I'll go first." He picked it up and held it to his head. He laughed at my expression. "It's just a game Potter." Then he pulled the trigger. He was still alive. I sighed with relief. He laughed and pulled it again. Still alive. I grabbed it out of his hands.
"It's my turn," I said. I held the gun to my head.
"Still like this game Draco?" He smirked. I closed my eyes and trying to steady my shaking hand I pulled the trigger. I sighed in relief as I found myself still living. Draco smiled.
"It's my turn now." He held the gun to his head "I just want to say, Potter. There is always a winner and a loser. You win."
"You promised Draco, you promised to survive."
"I know."
I pleaded with him. I knew somehow that if I didn't stop him his next words would be his last. "Please Draco, put it down, put it down."
He smiled with sad silver eyes. "Don't cry for me Harry, I died a long time ago." Everything went blank and all I could hear was the sound of the gunshot. It echoed in my head, ringing in my ears and making me feel physically sick. His body slumped of the chair in front of me. The blood dying his white hair red and dripping down the front of his shirt and onto the table. I got up and went to him. Hugging his lifeless body in my hands.
"You promised me, you promised me..." I whispered over and over again. Even when the Death Eaters dragged me away, even when I saw his body being thrown on a fire with Ginny's I couldn't stop saying it. That night I lay crying, clinging to the last remnants of him. His blood on my shirt.
You Lied.
...............................................................................................................................................................................
November, two years after Harry Potter's graduation from Hogwarts. He is presently being held hostage in Hogwarts by Voldemort's Death Eaters along with other wizards who are fighting on the side of good. Meanwhile outside the war still rages on and on...
I look back on it all and wonder why I never saw it in him before. He who taunted, laughed and hurt me. War is a terrible thing. It is said to leave permanent scars. It left me one. It's just a game, he said, just a game.
I walked down the dark corridors of Hogwarts; the dim candles barely enough to keep me from tumbling over loose flooring or down stairs. The whole place was as silent as the grave. Death Eaters patrolled all over smiling at the fact that they had our wands and we were powerless against them. I laughed slightly as I passed one, out of sheer nervousness, my clammy hands tightly gripping my cloak. Had I been older perhaps I could have been of more help in the war. But was it fair of them really, to lay everything on me because I am the Boy who lived. How could I, a mere teenager have been expected to save the entire wizarding world from a wizard ten times more powerful than I could ever hope to be?
He said he wouldn't leave me. He hated me but he wouldn't leave me. He said I was the only one who understood him yet I never understood him not one bit.
White blond hair, a flash of silver eyes. "Draco!" I called.
Flash of white teeth, a thin body seating itself next to mine. "Still alive Potter?" In jest, we had got over our childish rivalry long ago.
"Yes, how are you?" Eyes flashing in hidden pain. He didn't, couldn't cope with the way Voldemort had us captive. The way they treated us, tortured us. He would look blank, pretend it didn't hurt but I knew, I knew. The blank look flashed over again. Silver pools reflecting nothing but my face.
"Surviving Potter."
"Don't stop." I said.
Silver smile. Liar. "Stop what?"
"Surviving." I need you to go on.
"I won't, sleep easy Potter. I'll see you in the morning and don't look so worried. It's not like I'm going anywhere." Silver is gone. I smiled, comforted for a while. If only for a while.
Where did he get it? How long did he have it? Did he always plan on it? Why?
The night was dark. I sat opposite a glowing red fire in the Gryffindor common room. Draco sat with me his blank eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "I don't ever want to get old Potter."
I met his eyes. Silver pools dragging me down. "Then don't" Silence, my eyes searching his for any sign of feeling. His eyes though showing me nothing looked infinitely old. Too old for a boy of nineteen.
"You'll get old though Potter. Old and grand."
"What if I don't want to?"
"You will."
But can you save me? Come on and save me!
Screams came from me over and over but echoing in my ears were his. Silver boy his sobs invading my head and making me feel his pain as well. Blows got harder curses got worse but I still called to him. "Hang on Draco. Survive!" Later I dressed his wounds. I watched him flinch in pain as I applied ointment. He was too young. We were all too young.
"Don't pity me Potter." I stayed silent. "Do you hear me Potter? I'm fine. I'm surviving."
"Are You?"
He glared "Are You?"
I wanted to say yes but I couldn't. I was going through hell as well but at least I could admit it. He never did. He pretended it was nothing, said he was fine. Lied to me again and again. If only I had seen that then I could have saved him but I was taken in by his calm eyes, failing to see the troubled seas below.
Everything dies Harry. Not you, not yet. Can't you see, couldn't you see I needed you I'll always need you and I'll never have you again.
They killed her. The flame haired sister of my best friend. And we had to watch. Draco fell back clutching at me. I couldn't tear my eyes away. Her body writhed in pain for what seemed like years and then fell silent. Cold and lifeless. "I don't want to die like that Harry."
I looked at him, silver eyes pleading with me. "You won't Draco." He was silent for a while.
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"So do I" He walked away. Black cloak swishing behind him. I watched him go debating over whether to follow him or not. For no reason whatsoever panic invaded me and I took off after him. Following to where I guessed he had gone.
Crying every night. Silver eyed boy you give me no sleep. Don't you understand that what you did cut deep?
I opened the door to the Slytherin common room. There he was, dressed in a white shirt and black jeans, his long white blond hair hanging loose. A small round table was set up in the middle of the room with two chairs sitting opposite each other at it. There was something on the table; I struggled to make it out in the dim light. It was a gun. "I knew you would follow me." He said.
"That's a gun Draco."
Silver eyes turned to me no longer blank but reflecting so much pain that I wanted to cry. "Play a game with me Harry."
I shook my head "No, I won't play with death."
"Everyone dies."
"Not you, not yet."
He walked over to the gun and took all the bullets out and then he put one back in twisting it so he didn't know where it was. He slammed it down on the table. "Play."
"No."
He walked over silver eyes glinting angrily. "It's just a game Potter. Play."
I sat down and he took the seat opposite. He reached out and spun the gun. It pointed to me. "No."
"Fine I'll go first." He picked it up and held it to his head. He laughed at my expression. "It's just a game Potter." Then he pulled the trigger. He was still alive. I sighed with relief. He laughed and pulled it again. Still alive. I grabbed it out of his hands.
"It's my turn," I said. I held the gun to my head.
"Still like this game Draco?" He smirked. I closed my eyes and trying to steady my shaking hand I pulled the trigger. I sighed in relief as I found myself still living. Draco smiled.
"It's my turn now." He held the gun to his head "I just want to say, Potter. There is always a winner and a loser. You win."
"You promised Draco, you promised to survive."
"I know."
I pleaded with him. I knew somehow that if I didn't stop him his next words would be his last. "Please Draco, put it down, put it down."
He smiled with sad silver eyes. "Don't cry for me Harry, I died a long time ago." Everything went blank and all I could hear was the sound of the gunshot. It echoed in my head, ringing in my ears and making me feel physically sick. His body slumped of the chair in front of me. The blood dying his white hair red and dripping down the front of his shirt and onto the table. I got up and went to him. Hugging his lifeless body in my hands.
"You promised me, you promised me..." I whispered over and over again. Even when the Death Eaters dragged me away, even when I saw his body being thrown on a fire with Ginny's I couldn't stop saying it. That night I lay crying, clinging to the last remnants of him. His blood on my shirt.
You Lied.