Fic Type: Oneshot.

Summary: He had a ritual. Every year, year after year, Dean Thomas would mourn his lost love and past stupidity before Florcean's Ice Cream Shop. And this year, someone documented it. Parody of Dirty Vegas' Days Go By.

Characters: Dean Thomas, Harry Potter, Padma Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Albus Dumbledore, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

Song: Days Go By.

Group: Dirty Vegas.

Author: Leedle-leedle-lee.

Inspiration: A doughnut shop I passed when I was going to a cross country meet. Well, not really the shop - the dude standing outside it. He looked just like the dude in the official video. And he was kind enough to smile at me in my short bus! Yes, my peoples go to cross country meets in a short bus. It's sad, but true.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dirty Vegas, Days Go By, or Harry Potter. I'm not making any money off of this.

The day was unusually gloomy in London. A few witches and wizards were rushing to get things done. Even if Voldemort had been defeated the last twenty years, some still felt the need to hurry when Diagon Alley wasn't full of people.

Dean Thomas made his way to Florcean's Ice Cream Shop, a broken down cardboard box in one hand and his wand in the other. He looked down at the old red Converse on his feet before flicking a bit of dust off the shoulder of his grey cloak.

Today was the day. The set day of his ritual. The day he'd lost her. He hated himself for it. His own stupidity had driven away the world's most beautiful, kind, clever, and smart witch. What an idiot he was.

He finally made it to his destination. With a flourish, he did a spell to make his wand act as a kind of muggle boom box. Then he carefully layed out the cardboard, creating a mat.

Harry Potter had been striding along without a care in the world, secretly glad he'd finally found a way out of Ginny's clutches. Dear Merlin, that girl was worse than a grindilow.

None the less, Harry was wandering around Diagon Alley. The sound coming fron Dean's wand attracted his attention. He slid onto a bench and watched the man studiously lay out the mat. Inside the building, Seamus Finnigan was watching the man in mourning, a piting look on his face.

Padma Patil was attracted much the same way as Harry, and came to sit next to him. All three watched Dean as he stood up and fiddled with his wand like one would a radio.

Then the music started.

"You... You... You are still a whisper on my lips.
A feeling at my fingertips,
That's pulling at my skin.

"You leave me when I'm at my worst
Feeling as if I've been cursed."

"There he goes again," Padma sighed.

Harry nodded in agreement. "As always."

Dean ignored them and looked back down at his battered Converse.

"Bitter cold within."

Seamus muttered right along with the song. All three watched as Dean did a perfect version of the muggle dance: 'The Robot'.

"Days go by and still I think of you.
Days when I couldn't live my life without you."

Albus Dumbledore hobbled his way up, wearing a short grey cloak that showed too much of his legs for anyone's comfort. He looked down his very long, very broken nose at Dean, who had just swiched to doing a mix between freestyling and the Robot.

He slid into the seat across from Harry and Padma. The four sat and watched Dean try to dance away his past stupidity.

"Days go by and still I think of you.
Days when I couldn't live my life without you.
Without you...
Without you..."

"He shows up, same day every year," Padma said, leaning in as if not to disturb Dean, who had just thrown off his cloak and started into the more complicated freestyling, "and dances from sunrise to sunset."

"You are still a whisper on my lips.
A feeling at my fingertips,
That's pulling at my skin.

"You leave me when I'm at my worst,
Feeling as if I've been cursed."

"I heard," Padma continued, "it's some kind of ritual."

"Bitter cold within."

"He used to dance here," Harry murmured, his eyes glassy. "Back in the day."

Dean had moved on to seemingly impossible looking twists and twirls and slides and swirls. He was simply trying to drown out the memories, with no help from them. They just didn't know how he felt. None of them.

"Days go by and still I think of you.
Days when I couldn't live my life without you.
Without you...
Without you..."

Ronald Weasley was the next to walk up. He looked at Dean in kind of a tired way, almost sadly, as he slid in next to Albus.

"Nice shoes," the old man croaked, watching the beaten red Converse upon Dean's feet.

"She bought them," Ron explained.

"They were in love..." Padma agreed.

"Days go by and still I think of you.
Days when I couldn't live my life without you."

"But he couldn't stop," Harry reminded, his voice hard. "So 'Mione left."

"Days go by and still I think of you."

"No one knows where she went," Ron finished as Dean began to do flips in rapid sucession.

"I heard she was struck by a hex," Albus said.

"I thought she got hit by a hippogriff," Padma stated, her eyebrows scrunched.

"Yeah, well, whatever," Ron growled. "She just didn't show up."

"Days when I couldn't live my life without you.
Without you."

"Now he dances to bring her back?" Albus asked.

"Without you."

They all nodded and watched Dean dance even more.

"Without you."

"End of story," Ron confirmed.

"Without you."

Harry shook his head and got up to leave. He wouldn't watch Dean continue mourning over his best friend, especially when Dean had been the one to force her away.

"Without you."

Seamus was still muttering along with the song. Over the years he'd learned it quite well.

Albus left.

Ron and Padma began away, too. At the last second, Ron turned to Padma. "Wanna get some tea?"

She smiled. "Sure."

Dean picked up his wand and folded his cardboard mat under his arm before beginning away. Back home.

It was unusually gloomy in London. A few witches and wizards were rushing to get things done. Even if Voldemort had been defeated the last twenty years, some still felt the need to hurry when Diagon Alley wasn't full of people.

Good? Bad? Tell me, please.