A/N: a several chapter song fic. Slash so don't read if you don't like. I don't own harry potter or the songs. This one is called the storm by Garth Brooks. The annoying thing is that you have to pretend that harry is represented by the girl in the song. Thanks.
Broken-heartsville
Chapter one, the storm
He sat on the bed, staring at the wall.
Not moving.
Not breathing.
Just staring.
Perfectly normal thing to do.
But it wasn't
The room was in shambles.
Things scattered all over the place.
All of them familiar.
Most of them his.
But some, just some, belonged to another.
He stands, slowly, and walks to the window.
People are outside it.
Muggles.
Talking.
Walking.
Laughing.
Kissing.
Hugging.
Holding hands.
Happy.
As he had been
Before that night.
Before it all.
He wonders why he never suspected.
There was evidence enough.
Oh yes.
There were signs.
But he never noticed them behind those beautiful gray eyes.
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She sits among the pieces of broken glass and photographs
Reluctantly releases the last of what was her past
It struck without warning or did she just ignore the signs
In those dark clouds forming behind those silver lines
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He reaches down to the dresser in front of him.
Picks something up.
A picture.
Of them.
A single tear falls.
The picture makes a dull iclinki as it hits the dresser surface.
Everyone said it wouldn't last.
He never believed them.
What did they know?
How did they predict that night?
How could they have known?
It wasn't possible that they could have had foreknowledge of the ocean of pain he'd been drowning for the last month.
:::::::::::::::::::::::
The door it slammed like thunder and the tears they fell like rain
And the warnings from her family whirl like a hurricane
She's drowning in emotions and she cannot reach the shore
She's alive but can she survive the storm
:::::::::::::::::::::::
He stepped out into the hall.
He cut his bare foot on a small shard of glass lying on the carpet.
The only remnant of the wine glasses.
That night was supposed to be amazing.
That was how he planned it.
Well, it was certainly memorable.
But not because of the magnificent wine.
Or the expensive wine glasses.
He glanced down at his foot.
No, defiantly not the glasses.
They had been flung at his head and, when they barely missed it, had shattered against the wall.
He didn't understand.
What had he done to cause this?
Even if he knew, it was too late.
The note said so.
:::::::::::::::::::::::
A broken jewel box dancer in pieces down the hall
She's finding out the answers don't change nothing at all
It's time she stopped searching for who's to blame or what went wrong
The only thing for certain is he's gone, she's got to move on
::::::::::::::::::::::::
The note.
It was the only explanation.
And wasn't much of one.
iGood riddance.
Don't follow.
To hell with this.
I'm not comin' back.
And it's your fault.
That's right it's your fault.
So get on with it and leave me alone.i
Nope, that didn't sound like he would be able to change anything.
He should probably get on with his life.
And forget.
But he couldn't.
The memories just returned all the stronger when he tried to ignore them.
The warnings.
The trying.
Succeeding.
Loving.
Laughing.
Living.
And then the shouts.
Things flying.
They'd both lost control of their magic.
And then it was over.
He had left, the other had, leaving him all alone.
With the pain.
He needed to get out of this house.
She would help.
She usually could fix anything.
The cleverest girl he'd ever met.
Yes his friends would help.
If they could.
And they had tried.
And it had helped.
Some.
::::::::::::::::::::::::
The door it slammed like thunder and the tears they fell like rain
And the warnings from her family whirl like a hurricane
She's drowning in emotions and she cannot reach the shore
She's alive but can she survive the storm
::::::::::::::::::::::::
She tried to convince him to stay the night, after all, it was raining.
He knew the rain.
It was comforting.
And he might not live through the night.
Walking home was too difficult.
It left him with too much time.
For too many memories.
The sky was clear while he spoke to her but such things don't last.
She didn't know that.
She couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like.
None of them could.
So he put on a brave face.
He didn't trouble them.
And he stepped out into the rain.
:::::::::::::::::::::::
Someday days just roll on by without a gray cloud in the sky
She keeps telling herself, "I will make it on my own"
And her friends they've all gone back to their lives
Thinking she will be all right
As she races through the night to make it home
:::::::::::::::::::::::
Slowly but surely it's killing him.
Slowly but surely he's dying
He's tough.
He has to be.
With all he's taken in his life he is a veritable pillar of strength.
But like many constructs, all it takes is the right stone to be hit, the right spot to be touched.
He who strives to touch a star oft stumbles at a single straw.
He knew what that stone, that straw, that spot, had been.
Who it had been.
The only one he could remember loving with every particle of his being.
Heart and soul.
Harry's love for Draco was killing him.
Drowning in his grief.
Dying slowly in a storm.
::::::::::::::::::::::
The door it slammed like thunder and the tears they fell like rain
And the warnings from her family whirl like a hurricane
She's drowning in emotions and she cannot reach the shore
She's alive but can she survive the storm
::::::::::::::::::::::
A/N: I think his eyes are gray, aren't they? My father is getting my notebook, with the completed next two chapters of the problem with inheritance, back from my cousins today. Sorry about delays on that.
This story will probably not be updated with any frequency but when ever I'm suffering from writer's block I'll write another chapter or so. Comments and reviews are greatly appreciated.