Notes: Property of JKR, I just play with them. I am writing a more-or-less long fanfic at the moment, but I felt the need to write something easier and take a break, so here is something inspired by Evanescence's "My Immortal" and frankly, quite scary...
The rain whispered quietly, and kept coming, streaming down his face, down his robes, drenching his hair, his clothes as he raised his face to the heavens that seemed to pour down endless tears, as if they shared his burden, shared his sorrow.
He must have seemed like such a comical sight: a slight, pale face staring upwards with blank eyes, while around him the rain drummed, its murmur the only sound, save for the boy's near-silent breathing.
He was cold, and wet, but that really didn't seem to matter. How could a little water hurt him? He'd always liked rain, others thought he was insane, but he did. Everything seemed more serene, safer, more secure under the blanket of gray clouds, as the drops caressed your skin and sighed softly in your ear. They told secrets, if you knew how to listen. Wonderful, ethereal secrets, each a treasure in itself – they'd been everywhere, they should know. You just had to listen right.
Draco Malfoy knew how to do that, and that might have been why he liked the rain so much. Perhaps.
As well, it always seemed to uncannily reflect his emotions. Many people thought that rain was just rain, miserable and wet, and what sodding fools they were!
There was a happy, light kind of rain, where it wasn't really raining, just spitting, little flecks, and you could see rainbows dancing all around you, and had to be convinced that this was magical, it really was.
There was a harsh, brutal kind of rain, when he felt particularly murderous, slashing and whipping unfortunate miscreants who happened to stumble in its way, viciously, as if it was seeking revenge. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, both in the skies and in his eyes, and people tried to avoid both. He liked that.
Of course, there was this kind of rain, too. Draco didn't know how he felt about this one, really. It was melancholy, heartbreaking, subtle yet insistent. Too heavy to cheer you, too light to enrage you. It was as if it couldn't make up its mind, and decided to torture him instead. Doing quite well so far, too. The sky was as gloomy a grey as his eyes, and the clouds moved restlessly across the wide expanse, rolling and tumbling tumultuously as he brooded silently.
He wished for a bit of lightning, a rumble of thunder. Just a flash, to jolt him – not because he was scared, but because it reminded him of something worth remembering. Quick, yet blinding, much like that smile, and the deep chuckle that followed was the thunder. How he longed for that smile now, longed for the quick shot of adrenaline that seemed to infuse him the moment he laid his eyes upon that smile.
He knew that he would never see that smile again, never feel the same giddy rush, and as the pain stabbed at his heart once more, he turned his face away from the sky, cursing the stream of memories engulfing him.
The sky.
At moments alight with such intensity, much like a pair of eyes his own met so often, eerily alive, bursting with emerald light, dancing with sparks, yet often depressing and grim, as if the other was deep in serious thought, occasionally resonating with a soft glow, sending tingles along Draco's spine, and then sinking into darkness, staring with such hatred, such rage. No matter what the eyes did, it never failed to leave him breathless with excitement, danger, expectancy of their next encounter filling his life with a purpose.
This time, there wouldn't be a next encounter.
The boy cried out involuntarily and buried his face in his hands. This had to stop, he was driving himself insane with these memories, too painful to remember...Too precious to forget. Sobbing violently, he turned around and faced the sky, and screamed, shouted a cry no living soul could hear.
You bastard! You utter, sodding twit, how could you! You told me you wouldn't, never, ever, that it was you and of course nothing could happen to you! Didn't you think that you weren't invincible, didn't you care? For yourself, your friends, me, fuck, didn't you care at all what would happen to me without you! I was always there when you needed me, always there, and you said you'd be here for me too, you liar, you bastard, you're not! I'm here and I need you and you're not here! You're! Not! Here! I'm scared, and I'm lonely, and it hurts...It hurts so bad. You always thought that I needed protecting, but I guess that wasn't true this time, was it? You were the one who needed to be protected, but you were too proud and I hate you! I hate you, hateyouhateyouhateyou! I trusted you, you gave me your word and I believed you, I followed you like a lovesick puppy, what else could I have done? Traitor! You betrayed me! I thought you were so loyal, so brave, I thought that you would always be there. I thought that you would always be there... And now, you're not. And it hurts. It hurts so bad.
You didn't even say goodbye! Of course, you're too good for good-byes, too cocky, too defiant of Fate, and I guess she decided that it was time you got what you deserved. Hear that! You deserved what you got, Harry James Potter, every second of it, because you left me all alone, all alone here. You got what you deserved and I don't care! I don't care! I don't care!
The last was screamed hysterically to the sky and shaking uncontrollably, tears falling down his face, Draco sank to his knees in the soft mud.
I don't care.
Except I do.
He sat and sobbed and mourned his loss, a small, almost pathetic figure shrouded by the mist. He cried and tears streamed down his face.
Or maybe it was just the rain.