Prompt: Is There Something in the Movies by Samia
TW: death by suicide & suicidal thoughts implied
Harry Potter is dead.
Oh, darling. You didn’t deserve this, but everyone who knew you knows it was always coming. I mean, what can be expected of someone who has lived their whole life in a tin box, with only a toothpick as means to poke the air. How can they be expected to survive long enough to live? When somebody is continuously given a knife for his birthday, how can the rest of us be surprised when he finally uses it? Some may called me callous for my words, but I have long ago made my peace with his death. I saw it all coming since a long time ago and even if I think I know who gave him the knife, that’s not my affair. Why, you may ask? Because it was never one knife. As it never was just one birthday.
Harry Potter was someone who died of attention and lived an extraordinary life. Well, to be more precise, the boy who lived was suffocated by the attention his unsolicited extraordinary life gave him.
Oh, Harry, you taught me so many things. My desire to keep fighting for what I believe is right, I got it from you. So did I my resilience and will to survive, ironically enough. But, at these times, none of them matter more than my love. I gave it to you, completely unaware, on the day that we met, ‘cause already I trusted you best, even if I didn’t know it at the time.
Everyone dies but they shouldn't die young. Anyway, now that you are dead, I invite you to finally step aside, my love, while everyone continues to idolatrize you for something you never asked for. Wizards have become so crazy that they are even making movies about your horrible life, as if it was everything one could ever dream for. As if that would make you happy, now that you watch us from above.
I know I need not to ask as the answer I already know. But is there something in the movies that's better than my love?
I won’t send this to the Daily Prophet, no matter how much they have been begging for my thought on your death. I left you in life cause you don't need my pen to embellish your noteworthy parts. The people who had the pleasure to truly see you know who you really are. There is no need for me to repeat what is already living on their minds.
And I only write about things that I'm scared of; your death will forever haunt me at night. So here, now you're deathless in my art. Art which, I believe, if I dare, is as realistic as any art depicting you, Harry, will ever be.
You've got this and the movies and also my love.
You can have it all baby I'm giving it up.
You already took my heart so many years ago.
Now with your death you’ve taken my soul.
- Word count: 500, @drarrymicrofic
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Life Without Hope - Chapter 5.5
Summer turns into fall, which turns into winter. Christmas passes. A new year starts. Draco shares a bed with Pansy, even though he never touches her. He hasn’t since their wedding day. Pansy doesn’t seem to mind. Draco still needs to tell her the entire truth. About Harry and how the boy is a constant hallucination by now. He’s always in the room with Draco. The only comfort Draco has in this dark place he’s supposed to call home.
The Dark Lord’s spirits are up by the time the flowers in the garden sprout, announcing the beginning of spring. He still hasn’t found Black and Lupin, but the resistance’s attacks are fewer in number. He has plenty of prisoners locked up in the Mansion’s dungeons to take his moods out on. Giving Narcissa a little reprice. A time to heal from the torture she had to endure before.
And Draco is summoned on a regular basis to join in on important meetings. His opinion is asked for before the Dark Lord takes big decisions. He’s back in the loop. He just has to find a way to share this knowledge with the Order. Then at least his still being here serves a purpose.
“Do I need to attend dinner tonight?” Pansy asks as she walks into the bathroom.
Draco doesn’t take his eye from the mirror. He concentrates on his shaving charm, making sure he doesn’t cut his skin or breaks another mirror. He can’t keep replacing it. Someone will notice.
“The new recruits are coming, so yes, you do need to attend,” Draco says.
Pansy nods and starts to take off her clothes. “I’m taking a shower,” she says. Without warning, she pulls her t-shirt over her head. Her hands move to the buttons of her trousers. Draco quickly finishes his charm and picks up a brush and then exits the bathroom. He can finish his hair away from Pansy. Draco doesn’t want to see her naked body. It only reminds him of the time he had to force himself on her. Something he will never do again.
And as long as Rodolphus keeps up his weekly visits, Draco won’t have to. It might not be his sperm that dirties the sheets, it’s still proof of sexual activity. And this way Draco won’t have to fake anything to keep up the reuse that he and Pansy are busy trying to conceive.
Draco brushes his hair quickly and then reaches for his formal robes. Once dressed he sits down on the bed and stares out of the window. The trees are filling up with leaves again. The days are getting longer and brighter. Maybe it will help brighten Draco’s heart a little and take away the darkness he can’t shake off anymore.
“You look handsome,” Harry says from his side. Draco just nods. He hasn’t spoken out loud to Harry since the day Pansy moved in with him. It’s a good thing that Harry is stuck in his head. He doesn’t need Draco to say anything out loud, he can hear it anyway. This way Pansy never needs to know how bad Draco’s mental state is.
“I do miss your voice,” Harry says.
Draco laughs. It’s silly. He should be the one that misses Harry’s voice. A voice that once brought him comfort and strength. Now it’s just a reminder of the life he lost.
“Blaise is coming tonight,” Harry says. “He’s good at Occlumency. You should tell him what you know. Give him information.”
Draco nods. He thought the same. Of course, he did. Harry is in his mind. He isn’t real. So there is no surprise that he has the same ideas as Draco.
Pansy comes out of the bathroom. She doesn’t say a word as she puts on one of her favourite dresses. She does her make-up and pulls her hair into a bun on top of her head. Life would have been so much easier if Draco would have been straight. Then he wouldn’t have disappointed his father. Or fell in love with the one boy that was out of limits. The enemy of the person he was supposed to worship.
“You wouldn’t have been happy,” Harry says.
As if Draco is happy now. He hates his life. The person he loves is dead. He’s been dead for three years tomorrow. Three years, and it still hurts as if it happened yesterday. And nothing good had happened after that day. Draco was forced to stay on a side of a war where he didn’t belong. He was forced to kill. He watched as innocent people died. He gets raped almost every week. He’s trapped one of his closest friends in a marriage that will only bring her pain and suffering. And on top of all that, he has to agree with the Dark Lord to make sure his mother doesn’t get tortured. There is nothing to be happy about in this life. All his happiness has disappeared.
“I’m still here,” Harry replies to Draco’s thoughts. “I’m never leaving you again.”
A tear falls from Draco’s eyes. Pansy walks up to him and wipes the tear away. “The anniversary of his death is tomorrow, isn’t it?” she asks.
Draco closes his eyes. Of course, Pansy has already figured it out. She knows him better than she ever let on.
“I know he was the one,” Pansy says. “And I’m sorry you had to lose him. Just don’t lie to me about it. I’m your friend and I won’t tell anyone else.”
“I see him,” Draco says. “He’s here, all the time.”
Pansy sits down beside Draco and puts her arm around Draco’s shoulders. “Fuck, Draco,” she says.
“I know he isn’t real,” Draco continues. “That it is all in my head. I just can’t let it go. I need him.”
Pansy pulls Draco’s head onto her shoulder. “You bloody moron,” she says. “Naturally, you can’t. We all knew that once your heart belonged to someone, you will never be able to let them go.”
“I’m a fool,” Draco sobs.
“No,” Pansy tells him. “You’re a man in pain, trying to survive. And if seeing your dead boyfriend helps you do that, then go for it. Our families still need you. You’re the one keeping us all alive. I won’t judge how you keep it that way. Just don’t condemn us all, please.”
Draco nods. “I won’t,” he says. “And thank you.” He raises his head and wipes away the tears that are stuck on his cheeks. Harry stands in front of him, a hurt smile on his face and a glitter in his eyes. He’s been telling Draco for weeks to just tell Pansy. He’ll be glad to hear Draco’s voice again.
“I will,” Harry says. “And I’m glad you aren’t ready to throw in the towel. I need you alive.”
Not as much as Draco needs Harry to be alive, so all this wouldn’t be his fault. It’s a nice fantasy. One that will never come true.
“You’re ready to go downstairs?” Pansy asks. “We can’t keep the new recruits waiting.”
Draco takes another deep breath. “Yes,” he says as he stands up. He takes Pansy’s hand, and together they depart from the room, leaving the memory of Harry behind.
MASTERLIST
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