A/N: This is an experiment while I'm avoiding writing my fmahp that I have going. Don't worry you, the sixth chapter just needs to be edited before it can be posted. But I don't wanna do it so nah. Anyway, this is going to be a short little series if people liked it, I have the recording of him singing the song if you want to hear it, it sounds like a normal choir boys voice instead of those amazing Josh Groban things. Cause let me tell you, he basically lived with his voice teachers. Anyway, feedback would be nice.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Slash, maybe. Swearing. Some sexual content and I just mean him getting a boner.
Song: 'Empty Chairs at Empty Tables' from Les Mise'rables.
Couple: DM/HP Maybe! RW/HG
He was sitting on one of the benches in the empty Great Hall. The deafening silence seemed to be accented by the barren and freshly washed tables. Dinner would be starting soon, so the floating candles were lit but none held heat, no one should have been in the room at that moment. His head rested on one of the long tables tears glistening. He was surrounded by people, but alone. After he had won the battle, defeated their great over lord. The people of the wizarding world had deserted him. Now what was his use? His purpose?
His best friends, for they still boasted themselves as such had vanished without a trace from his life. No smiles in the hallways, no waves. Just nothingness. He knew what was going on in their lives only because he was so quiet now, why was there need to speak? They were together, getting married once school ended. No one had told him they were engaged, or even together. He found out they were together when he walked in on them in a classroom. The reason for him heading into that classroom was to cut himself. To relieve some of the tension and hopelessness he felt.
The cutting had stopped only when he became addicted to it. He was not going to become dependant on anything else ever again. Never again would he put his faith in, trust in something. Even something like cutting, that for a moment in time masked his pain. It would one day too fail. Sitting up he tilted his eyes back head cast towards the ceiling eyes closed.
"There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone."
Unbeknownst to Harry the warmth in the room had risen and the castle's occupants were at the door watching the boy sing with his eyes closed.
"Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here they sang about 'tomorrow'
And tomorrow never came."
He stood up wearily eyes cast towards the head table, and behind that, the stained glass windows that showed the light so innocently, he walked up the dias and put a hand on the old polished wood.
"From the table in the corner
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing.
And I can hear them now!"
He turned sharply and faced the open doors eyes wide and unseeing, glazed over with clouds of tears. His hands clenched in pain as memories washed over him.
"The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion."
His head dropped to the side remembering being alone those final moments on the battle front.
"On the lonely barricade, at dawn!
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me."
He looked up to the sky through the ceiling, his friends were there.
"That I am hear and you are gone.
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain that goes on and on!"
He cast his arm out angrily, all the feeling that he had towards the society that destroyed him, the society he saved, the society who abandoned him.
"Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more."
His hands went up to grip his hair painfully as he sunk to his knees almost screaming,
"Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me!
What your sacrifice was for
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will sing no more."
A choked sob tore from his throat and his body fell over exhausted by the emotions that coursed through him.
Hermione and Ron broke from the amassed crowd and raced over to the young man. Ron helped Harry sit up and Hermione put her hand under his chin, every bit the show of a concerned friend. "Harry, we aren't dead see. Your friends are still here." Harry shook his head and slapped her hand away before shoving Ron off and standing.
"My friends are dead. I don't know who you are, but my friends died the night Voldemort died. You're just living in their shells; a parasite." Ron sputtered and turned purple rearing back to hit him. Harry moved quickly and hit a few keys points before pushing Ron over. Ron who now was unable to move glared at him in pure loathing. Turning back to the doors Harry started to walk down from the head table's dias. Passing Hermione, who had backed away from the stinging blow, Harry turned to her. "Hermione. Who would understand more about their parents being murdered?" She atleast had the shame to avert her eyes to the floor.
Harry walked towards the crowd, who split upon his approach. "Harry wait." Hermione called. He stopped if only out of respect for the friendship they once had. "I'm sorry."
Harry didn't turn back but put his hand on the door frame as if to support all his burdens. "As am I Hermione. I'm sorry the person you once were has become one of the fallen." With that he left the hall alone and broken.
He stepped up onto the platform and tightened his cloak around him, trying to draw as much heat as he could from it. There he was, the boy of mystery. His tiny form was sitting back against a wall staring upwards bathed in the setting moon's quiet moonlight. It was an ethereal image that took Draco's breath away. Going over to the form, who still hadn't acknowledged his presence, Draco unsnapped his cloak and sat down drawing it over the both of them. Harry looked up startled, and into a very different looking pair of grey eyes. "Potter..." Draco started then sighed.
"Potter, I'm not dead, but nor was I ever alive." He stuck his hand out into the nippy air. "Would you befriend the reborn?"
Harry stared at the boy for a moment searchingly, then hesitantly took the hand. He didn't know what had compelled him to take that hand, didn't he promise himself never to care again? "We can be reborn together." The sun blazed over the curtain of hills and as they shook the day was reborn into a new beginning.
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