Title: Philadelphia
Author: Patchfire )
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
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Notes: Well, I'm late to the party, but here's my offering. 'Twas hit with the idea and I couldn't leave it alone now. It's a songfic, of sorts, to "Philadelphia" by Neil Young. It's also a deathfic, despite the fact that I don't generally even like to read them. Lastly, it's very definitely set in winter. Thanks and loves to Little Alex for beta'ing. Hugs.
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Sometimes I think that I know What love's all about
Harry pulled his cloak tighter around him, stepping through the driving winds and drifting snow as he stared out over the lake.
"I wish that you could be here right now," he said softly into the still silence. "Even... even knowing what you did. I wish you were here with me."
He bit his lip and looked down at his feet, which were rapidly being covered with a cold damp blanket of fresh snow. "I have cried every day for the past two weeks. And I'm just empty. I don't what to do. I need you. I love you."
And when I see the light I know I'll be all right
"But I'm just not sure," Harry continued. "I'm not sure where to go, what to do.
Everyone expected that I would defeat Voldemort, take my N.E.W.T.s, and become an Auror. But they also expected a lot of other things that I never did, that I never will do. I've already shattered so many expectations."
Harry turned and could barely make out the light in Hagrid's old hut. He had asked if he could live there, at least for awhile, and permission had been granted. He slowly trudged towards it, knowing that night, and the temperatures, were rapidly falling.
I've got my friends in the world
He hung up his scarf, then his cloak, and made his way over to the fire. It's a warm cloak. Though it's not mine. It, or the scarf, he thought absently. He had raided Draco's dormitory before anyone thought to forbid it, taking a few things, things to remind him of the man he had loved. Still did love, despite everything.
I had my friends When we boys and girls And the secrets came unfurled.
He sighed, and started to fix himself some dinner. He didn't go up to the castle except when he absolutely had to. It was too painful, watching Ron's face slide into a barely sympathetic version of "I told you so," and looking at Hermione's turned back. Too painful, walking by the places the trio had studied, played, laughed. They hadn't laughed together for two months even before that horrible day. Ron had come back from Hogsmeade much earlier than expected, and had found Harry and Draco together.
City of brotherly love Place I call home Don't turn your back on me
Yet, despite that, it was lonely in the small wooden hut. The snow piled around its walls regularly, isolating Harry from everything and everyone, except for the faithful Fang, and, of course Hedwig. The snowy owl, so fond of the snow herself, had been screeched out of the Owlery by students' owls, told by their angry, vindictive owners to do so.
Harry missed the castle. Missed the places he and Draco had hidden. Missed the familiar stones, the classrooms, the Great Hall. But he wasn't alone there. There he had to smile, and be happy, because Voldemort was Finally Dead.
But Harry wasn't happy.
I don't want to be alone Love lasts forever
Harry crawled into the bed, piled high with blankets and furs. Still, it had been Hagrid's bed, and as such, was large enough for at least three people. Harry tossed and turned in the night, reaching out for a body, a friend, a lover that wasn't there. That would never be there again.
But Harry couldn't forget him. He would always love him. He just didn't know how to move forward.
Someone is talking to me, Calling my name
He was startled the mid-morning the next day by a knock at the door. No one visited him. Whether because they knew he didn't want any visitors, or because they didn't want to see him, he didn't know. He didn't care. He shook his head irritably and ignored the knock.
"Harry Potter!" The person called through the door. "I know you're in there. Answer the door and talk to me!"
The voice was female, but it wasn't Hermione. Harry blinked, and went to answer the door despite his decision moments ago to ignore the knocking. He stared at the person on his doorstep, his mouth dry. "Hello, Pansy," he finally said.
Tell me I'm not to blame
Pansy Parkinson swept in, taking off her own cloak and scarf. She started when she went to hang them up, then turned sympathetic eyes towards Harry. "It wasn't your fault, you know."
"I know," Harry said in a monotone. "But... perhaps if I hadn't been there... or
we had never gotten so close... or something, anything I could have done differently." He looked her straight in the eye. "I would have forgiven him anything. I would have fought to keep him out of Azkaban, I would have broken him out, I would have gone anywhere in the world, I would have spent my life as a fugitive. Anything."
Harry laughed bitterly, his eyes brim-full of pain. "And I'm not supposed to even be sad that he's gone. I'm supposed to be mad that he `betrayed' me, or even glad, that one less of Voldemort's so-called minions is alive. Well, I'm not."
I won't be ashamed of love
Pansy pressed her lips together. "I knew about the two of you," she began, almost conversationally. "He loved you too. But he had to choose between you and living, or so he thought."
"I know," Harry said quietly. "I understand that. But why did he have to go and bloody get himself killed? And why doesn't anyone care that I loved him? Dark Mark and all, I LOVED HIM!"
Philadelphia, City of brotherly love. Brotherly love.
"I was supposed to be fighting for the side of Light, the good side. But there's
so much hatred still around. And I'm not suppose to grieve. Maybe some people fall in love multiple times in their life, but - " and he could say no more.
Pansy embraced him. "Grieve, Harry. Grieve. Someone has to teach those people up in the castle about love and acceptance. Otherwise, you fought for nothing. Which would also mean that Draco died for nothing."
Sometimes I think that I know What love's all about
Harry shook with silent sobs. Here, finally, was someone not condemning him, not expecting of him, just letting him be. Here, finally, was what he had needed since that horrible January day: a friend.
And when I see the light I know I'll be all right Philadelphia
Harry straightened finally, and checked the clock. "It's lunchtime," he said hollowly. "Would you like to eat here?"
She shook her head. "No, but I'd like to eat with you - in the Great Hall."
Harry sighed, reluctant, but joined her by the rack that held their cloaks, each
wrapping long lengths of silver and green wool around their necks.
As they were about to enter the hall, Pansy pressed a box into Harry's hand. "He had your Valentine's present for months now. I think... I think you should have it. Perhaps it could even be said that you need to have it." She slipped in, just ahead of him, offering him a moment of privacy.
Harry opened it without looking, slid the cool metal onto his finger. He had thought so. He closed his eyes. "I'll always love you, Draco," he whispered into the air, and then he turned into the hall.
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