DISCLAIMER::: I own nothing but my own sick and twisted ideas...everything else, EH..not so much. The song is Avril's (bwahahah) HP characters are JK Rowling's...so there!
A/N:: I didn't get the song at first, but I think now I do...read on!
...:::Song in italics:::...
...:::Story in bold:::...
How Does It Feel
I'm not afraid of anything
I just need to know that I can breathe
I don't need much of anything
But suddenly
"Now are you prepared to speak?" a voice hissed from behind a dark cloak which covered most of the person's face. Peering out from behind the cloak were a pair of beady, red eyes piercing though the blackness of the room. Nothing could be heard but the harsh, ragged gasps of another person lying on the floor. Their face cannot be distinguished because the light radiating from the fireplace was blocked by the tall, cloaked figure hovering over the person. Receiving no response, the taller man hissed again, this time more loudly.
"S-SPEAK!"
The shape on the floor stirred, slowly rising to rest its weight on its shoulder and lifting its head up to face the man. Its hair was matted down with blood and sweat, giving no clue as to who this mystery person may be. Suddenly, it spoke.
"I'll never tell you anything." Though barely audible and very raspy, one could still assume it was the voice of a young man.
The glowing eyes narrowed. And, as if by magic, the perspective of the room changed. Now visible was the young lad on the floor, face illuminated by the fire, and the back of the cloaked figure. The reflection of the flames burned in the younger man's glasses, contrasting greatly with his brilliant green eyes behind them.
"So be it, Mr. Potter."
Suddenly the tiny, dark room enlightened with a bright green glow. A scream echoed loudly, followed immediately by a high-pitched laughter. Then, both stopped abruptly and the red eyes navigated their way around to stare straight ahead and his eyes penetrated your own. An evil, crooked smile crossed the Dark Lord's face and the room begins to spin.
I am small and the world is big
All around me is fast moving
Surrounded by so many things
But suddenly, suddenly
Back in reality, a very distressed and restless Harry tossed and turned in his bed. Sheets sticking to our poor, sweaty hero, he quickly jerked into a sitting position. Terror evident in his eyes, he scanned the room for his surroundings. When he realized where he was, he raised his hand up to his chest and took a deep breath. He was still safe in Hogwarts, under the protection and, sometimes too close, watch of Albus Dumbledore. After last year's events at the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore carefully eyed Harry's every move.
After calming himself down, he glanced at the clock. It was only a quarter past three in the morning. Knowing he would never be able to get back to sleep, he put on his robe and grabbed his invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, and one last item. Stuffing the other two in his pockets, he threw the cloak over himself and climbed down the stairs from the dormitory. Crossing the common room, he heard rustling coming from the far left corner and stopped in his tracks. However, he quickly relaxed. Sleeping in the corner were a few third years, whose names Harry didn't know offhand. He brushed them off and continued out the portrait hole. Pulling out the map and his wand, he quickly brought forth the writing and followed it up to the Owlery.
Once he reached his destination, he pocketed his belongings and pushed open the door. Several owls stirred at his entrance but quickly quieted down. They knew his presence since he was here quite often. It wasn't the cleanest or the quietest place to be, but it had a calming effect on him. There were two windows on the wall opposite Harry. He climbed on the sill of the window farthest away and pulled the cloak tightly around his body to keep the cool wind off. He stared out at the clear, starry night, sighing as the stars twinkled brightly against their royal blue background. He wondered if Sirius was up there now, watching over him. Laughing and joking with Harry's father, James, like old friends. Both scorning Harry for their deaths. Blaming him. Hating him.
He reached into his robes and pulled out the last object. A mirror, which shined as it caught the moon's reflection in its glass. He looked deep into it, almost expecting Sirius's angry face to appear and curse him into oblivion. He wouldn't blame his godfather either. He didn't deserve this mirror, or any gift. He didn't deserve his friends. He didn't deserve love. Or life. He had been responsible for the deaths of so many people he "loved". But how could he truly love them if he caused them to die? Everyone said he shouldn't blame himself, but he knew the truth. It was his fault. All of it.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice a certain platinum haired boy step through the door. In fact, he didn't realize until, being so mad and angry and frustrated, he threw the mirror against the wall across from him. The glass shattered everywhere and a rather large piece sliced his hand. Harry cursed and the blood began to drip from his wound. As he unraveled himself from the cloak, a voice drawled from the shadows.
"Someone has a bit of a temper. Looks like you're bleeding there, Potter." Draco said, stepping into the light and sitting by the window nearest the door.
How does it feel to be
Different from me
Are we the same
How does it feel?
"No shit," he winced as he slowly extracted the glass from his flesh. He wrapped the bottom half of his shirt around his hand and tossed the shards of glass out the window.
Draco spotted the cloak spread across the seat. Smirking, he made a grab for it and placed it over his own shoulders.
"Didn't know anyone in the school had one of these." He looked up. "These aren't allowed. I'll have to report this to Dumbledore as part of my duties as Prefect. I'm sure he was curious, as was I, how you always barely escaped trouble."
"Oh, sod off, Malfoy!" Harry called out. "Do you always have to be an impossible git!?" He snatched the cloak away from the blue-eyed boy and threw it back on the seat behind him. "Besides, he already knows."
"Well, of course he does," Draco blurted out. "Bloody hell Potter, aren't you sick of always getting special treatment? All because you're the famous 'Boy Who Lived'. You just live the perfect life, don't you? Perfect family, perfect friends, perfect school. You just have the perfect life, everything you've ever wanted!" Draco glared at Harry.
"You don't know anything about my life. It's far from perfect. So, why don't you shut the hell up!"
Slightly taken aback by Harry's retort, Draco just stood there as his scowl faded. But as quickly as he was silenced, he spoke up again. "What? The 'Golden Boy' can't handle a little pressure. Aww, poor Harry. Honestly Potter, how big of a-?"
He was cut short. He was attacked and had been knocked to the ground, with a very irate Harry on top of him. Harry punched Draco's face several times before Draco reacted with an elbow and a hit to Harry's stomach. In addition, one of Harry's hands was already hurt so he had a slight disadvantage. As Harry caught his breathe, Draco pushed him off and sat up.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" He asked, fingering his now bleeding lip.
Hunched over, Harry straightened up. "Because....I'm so sick....of you....and your smartass remarks." He said between gasps. "You will never understand all that I've been though. You and your stuck-up, rich, pureblooded family. Being the spoiled little prat that you are and always getting the best and the most expensive."
Before Draco could pounce on Harry, a large tawny owl flew in through the window and landed on his shoulder. A small parchment was attatched to its leg. He pulled it off and then sent the bird on its way. As Draco opened the letter and read it, Harry stood and walked back to his window. He folded the cloak and turned to pick up the remnants of the mirror frame. He glanced at Draco and stopped. The emotionless mask he usually wore was thrown off by the swell of panic in his stormy grey eyes.
Not feeling the least bit of sympathy for his enemy, Harry continued on picking up the mirror. "What's the matter Malfoy, not getting the new broomstick you wanted this year?" He asked mockingly, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. But instead of being thrown another insult, Harry could've sworn Draco went another shade paler, if possible. The letter dropped from his hands and floated to the floor.
"What's the matter. Ferret Boy?"
Draco looked up. "H-he killed her." He stammered.
"Who?" Harry questioned, curiosity taking over.
Making eye contact with Harry, Draco said again, "My father....he killed my mum."
How does it feel to be
Different from me
Are we the same
How does it feel?
Any other boy would have broken down if they lost their mother, but not Draco. He was a Malfoy and Malfoy's don't cry. Crying shows weakness and Malfoy's are not weak. He tore his eyes away from Harry's and focused them on the letter.
"He wants me to get the Mark during Christmas Break," he mumbled, more to himself than Harry. "She was the only one who convinced him to wait until I was out of school. He said she was in the way, so....so he killed her. I'm not ready to become a Death Eater, not yet. I'm not even sure if I-" He looked up again.
Harry had just been standing there, staring and listening. Draco suddenly grabbed the letter and stood up.
"Look Potter, don't tell anyone that. You don't...understand." He was mere inches away from Harry's face and spoke in a most threatening tone.
Harry clutched the mirror, or what was left of it anyways, and nodded. Not out of fear, but more for lack of words. Draco had just done a complete one-eighty on him, and he was still amazed at the turn around.
Draco retreated to the door, preparing to leave, then suddenly turned around and walked back to sit on the windowsill. He leaned against the stone frame of the window and stared outside. Without asking any questions, Harry simply followed suit.
Seconds. Minutes. Hours passed. Neither spoke. Both lost in their thoughts as the deep royal blue lightened with the growing of the morning hours.
I am young and I am free
But I get tired and I get weak
I get lost and I can't sleep
But suddenly, suddenly
"I never really had a choice. I was raised this way." Draco said, still staring out the window. Harry looked Draco's way but didn't say anything, not sure who Draco was talking to.
"My father taught me his narrow-minded ways and, not knowing any different, I believed him. I always looked up to him, thinking he was brave to kill those people. I was told they were dangerous, bad people. But they weren't. They were innocent wizards and muggles. Then, when Voldemort gained power, my family just fell apart. My mum hated the fact that my father was always pressuring me to join as soon as I could. And I was-"He paused. "I was scared. But being scared wasn't allowed. Malfoy's were brave and fearless and only watched out for themselves. I don't know how many times I watched him hurt my mum, or me for that matter. I accepted it then, but now...this time he went too far. He killed her." He strained with the last few words because a new sensation had taken over him. Tears were streaming down his face, and it felt good.
How does it feel to be
Different from me
Are we the same
How does it feel?
"And now he wants me to get the Dark Mark as soon as possible. There is no well in hell I will ever listen to him again. If I get it, I'll get it when I want to. In my own time. Not when he says to. And I might not even get it...but no matter. It's up to me, only me." His voice faded as he drifted back into his own world.
Harry was also not all there. He was thinking about how Draco wasn't the spoiled little brat he thought he was. He was just raised to live this way. It still wasn't right, but somehow shifted the blame.
"So," a voice interrupted his thought process, "What's so important about that bloody mirror you're hugging?"
Harry quickly released his grip on the broken mirror and set it on his lap. He wanted to let go of all his bottled up feelings...but not here, not now, not to Malfoy, of all people. He needed to get it all off his chest. His friends never listened. They just tried to comfort him. He didn't need comforting, he needed a listener. Maybe he could tell Malfoy, in moderation of course.
How does it feel to be
Different from me
Are we the same
How does it feel?
He gulped. "My godfather's, he gave it to me last year...before he died." He felt Draco's gaze upon his face and took a deep breathe.
"He was the only link I had left to my parents. We were just starting to get close. I was going to move in with him, away from the Dursley's, but then...I killed him"
"What?" Draco asked, his interest slightly peaked at this statement.
"Last year, in the Ministry of Magic, there was a big battle with Death Eaters and Voldemort. I was led there falsely. Everyone was right, I tried to play the hero. Well, Sirius showed up and battled Bellatrix to save me. She pushed him through the veil and...and..." He stopped. Just thinking about that day made tears well up in his eyes.
Would you comfort me
Would you cry with me
"Sirius Black, the murderer, was your godfather?"
"He was no murderer," Harry said though gritted teeth. "He was innocent. Yet he still died. For me. Dammit!! Why?" He started to increase his volume, not caring who heard him anymore. "How many people do I have to kill before someone finally kills me? First, it was my parents, then Cedric, and now Sirius. I can't defeat Voldemort and then I'll let the whole wizarding world down. I can't be the hero they want me to be. But I don't care anymore. Forget Occlumency classes, let Voldemort do what he wants! Kill the fucking world, and everyone will blame me for it!! Everything is my fault! I just want it to end. I just..can't take it anymore." He broke into silent angry tears, and adjusted himself on the ledge to hide his emotions from Draco. That's all he needed was another reason for Draco to give him hell.
And that was that. Both boys had vented their true feelings and there was nothing left to say. It's as if a small rock had been lifted off the big pile on their shoulders. Again, silence crept into the early morning hours.
I am small and the world is big
But I'm not afraid of anything
When the sun was visible over the horizon, the two made a move to leave. Neither said a word, but as Harry gathered all his things, Draco stayed behind and held the door open for him. A simple gesture but it symbolized much more.
How does it feel to be
Different from me
Are we the same
How does it feel?
Each boy had a new understanding of the other. They realized each other's lives weren't what they were all cracked up to be. On the outside, both were very different. However, on the inside, both dealt with emotions, insecurities, and problems that they kept hidden from the world. Both put on a brave face and continued on. Were they friends now? No. Would they call each other by their first names? No. Would they stop the fighting and name-calling? Probably not. Were they still enemies? Pretty much. So, why was this encounter so important? They learned that they do have something in common. They are different, yet the same in so many ways.
How does it feel
How does it feel
You're different from me, different
How does it feel
How does it feel
You're different from me, different
FINIS
A/N::: so..wut did ya think? Its too late...I doesn't matter to me..i think it's a good idea, but I don't know how well I got it across...if u think you can do better, tell me and I'll pass my idea on to you. Please review..good or bad..i deal with flames cuz I'm a PYRO at heart..MWA!