Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his world, it all belongs to JKR. I also do not own the song lyrics from Les Miserables..

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

An eighteen year old Draco Malfoy sat quietly in the empty Slytherin common room. It was very late, and everyone had already gone up to their dormitories. He sat, mesmerized by the flames in the hearth. He'd been back at school for a month now, completing his seventh year, like many other older students ho had been involved in the war and unable to attend their final year.

They had been afforded the luxury of their own rooms, to give them a sanctuary when the world seemed too strange or too complicated, that were attached to their old House Common rooms. Draco often found himself sitting alone quietly in the Slytherin Common room, wishing his fallen comrades could return. He had never felt so lonely as he did this year.

There's a grief that can't be spoken

There's a pain goes on and on.

He let his eyes roam the familiar room, imagining the bubble of energy that had enveloped the place over two years ago. He and his mates had just gotten back from summer holidays. Everyone was happy and at ease, looking forward to the year to come.

Empty chairs at empty tables,

Now my friends are dead and gone.

He was torturing himself, and he knew it. Ginny often found him sitting here in this morose state and would drag him back to his room, chiding him gently for dwelling on the past too much. He knew, deep inside himself, that they had been responsible for their own fates. They had merely chosen a different path. It wasn't his fault. He had done what he had had to do, and so had they.

Here they talked of revolution.

Here it was they lit the flame.

Draco thought back to the celebration after their initiation the Easter before last. He smiled as he pictured the fastidious Zabini, chortling along with Montague, in a drunken duet. He sighed deeply as the memory faded, replaced by the lonely Common room.

Here they sang about tomorrow,

And tomorrow never came.

How could they have been so brainless. They swallowed the rhetoric that their fathers had fed them since birth. They were idealists, yes, but with the wrong ideal.

From the table in the corner,

They could see a world reborn.

Merlin, he thought, if only he could have been brave enough to save them before it was too late. He felt so useless now that the war was over.

They rose with voices ringing,

And I can hear them now,

The very words that they had sung.

He brought his gaze back to the fire, trying to block out the bad memories. Impossible.

Became their last communion,

On that lonely battlefield at dawn.

Severus Snape watched his young apprentice from the portrait hole. He closed his eyes to the desperate scene in front of him. So many nights Snape had found him here, and unable to help him, had gone in search of Ginevra. Severus' eyes opened as a broken sob escaped the wizard's mouth.

Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me.

'Gods Draco, I wish I could help you, but I can barely help myself. I'll go get her for you, my boy. She can help you forget all the guilt, I promise.' Snape pledged silently to him. He turned quietly and quickly went to find the one who could help his godson.

Draco tried to tell himself that it was luck, dumb, improbable, luck that had dealt the cards as such. No prophecies, no secret fortelling.

That I live and you are gone.

But he knew it to be a lie. And he was punished everyday for his traitorous acts. His true role in the war had been kept quiet, he had received no honour and no glory, though he doubted he wanted them anyway. But it was the taunts and jeers he got from every ignorant person that hurt. First and Second years shied away from him. The older kids never let him forget about the grotesque mark on his forearm. He was ridiculed, and worse, he was so lonely. Only his crimson-haired sprite stood by him.

There's a grief that can't be spoken,

As the pain goes on and on.

The understanding and acceptance he thought the war's end would bring hadn't come. He often found himself grasping at memories in order to keep his faith alive.

Phantom faces at the window,

Phantom shadows on the floor.

He had to leave this place. Stop this self-imposed torment.

Empty chairs at empty tables,

Where my friends will meet no more.

His hands shook as he lifted himself out of the chair. The tremors hadn't stopped. They hadn't even lessened. He stood, unable to move away from this familiar prison. If only he could go back and change everything. It wasn't fair, just because they hadn't had someone to pull them out of their destinies like he had had, didn't mean that they had to accept their fate. It shouldn't have mattered!

Oh, my friends, my friends, don't ask me,

What your sacrifice was for.

Ginny quietly entered the room and crossed to where he stood, surrounding him with her embrace.

"It's okay, love, I'm here, I'm here."

The strong man crumpled in the girl's arms. She looked at him with anguish. The war had destroyed so many people. Sometimes she thought bitterly about those that had been lucky enough to die, or the cowards that had run away. Draco, Severus, Ron, Hermione, even herself, they were the real heroes of the war. They continued to battle everyday with the demons the war left within them all. It hurt her so much to see Draco in so much pain. At least they had each other though, so many didn't even have the comfort of that.

She started pulling him out of the Common room.

"Come on, love, let's go to bed. It's late, love, very late to be up and fighting."

He let her lead him through and out of the lonely prison.

Empty chairs at empty tables,

Where my friends will sing no more.

They walked slowly towards his room, their room really, as she seldom left him alone at night. She carefully undressed her tired sweetheart, and tucked him into bed. Crawling in beside him, she curled her warm body next to him.

"We have us, love, never forget." She whispered to him.

"I couldn't." He breathed out, relaxing with her next to him.

"And you have the world ahead of you, and a century or more to make your dreams come true." She smiled.

He rolled onto his side to face her. He kissed her gently on the lips, and pulled back to look at this beautiful witch who done so much for him. The woman who had saved his life a thousand times.

"Thank you Sprite," he closed his eyes and held her tightly, whispering. "Thank you for everything."

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Author's etc.: Well that's it for this one, bit mushy at the end but I thought a little bit of mush was called for ...Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you did! I love reviews! (oh no, my secret's out!)

I have recently just got my first flame for this story, I feel sorry that that reviewer could not stretch their imagination to enjoy my story. I wish they did not feel offended by my use of the lyrics from Les Miserables. I do hold the Classic story in high regard, and feel that some of the songs held universal emotion that could fit well with the story that was forming in my brain, and in no way am I denigrating the story of Les Miserables, nor the that of the musical, honest, as we all know in the fanfiction universe, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!

To the rest of my readers and reviewers, thank you thank you thank you! If you like my writing keep on the look out for my new DG story : Cultured Left Foot..... until then ,

Cheers! -sweetp