'And I'd give up forever to touch you

Cuz I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

Cuz sooner or later it's over

I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me

Cuz I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you'd bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me

Cuz I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me

Cuz I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me

Cuz I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am.'

'Iris' sung by the Goo Goo Dolls.   ;)

Authors Notice:  Short lil' ficlet. Yes, I said I wouldn't write again till after Christmas.  But, here I am...and I'm writing.  This just...came.  Although I can guarantee I will not be writing tomorrow on Christmas (goodness no, too many prezzies!)  This was supposed to be a lot happier than it turned out to be. So sorry to all of you hoping for fluff.  Oh and by the way, Draco's not terribly articulate in this one, blame it on me not liking the idea that he has a way with words.

Anyway. Happy Christmas Eve and rock on.  Now I'm gonna go take a nap =P

xo

xo

xo

She likes Christmas, it's strange, she knows.  To like Christmas and to have no one but your best friend--and therefore have everyone--to celebrate it with.  It's like this every year, she knows. This sensation, this chaos...it's like a war, almost.  It's almost something bad.

She loves the smell of pine and gingerbread.  Candles hanging from trees, snowmen with scarves all around them.  Presents wrapped in silver and lace, begging to be opened.  Lives forever changed, everything put on hold.

It's odd, she knows, that after seventeen years it still amazes her and takes her breath away. It's odd, she knows, that after seventeen years he still amazes her and takes her breath away.

'Malfoy.'

'Parkinson.'

'You're staying here, aren't you? For Christmas...'

'I'm going home this year,' he says, 'I won't be back for a long time.'

'Oh.  It's just...just'

'What?  That I always usually stay? I'm sorry, Parkinson,' the young man says, and really doesn't sound sorry at all. 'I know. I know all the bloody stories and all the bloody tales but I also know...that they need me back there and I can't not go.'

'What about bringing down the system?  What about...what about killing those in charge?' She asks, almost laughing, almost near tears.

'The world,' he says, 'is getting torn apart by war and sickness and terror and I'd love to sit here with you, by the lake, and just talk and drink whatever it is we drink...'

'Whisky.'

'Yes, whisky...'

'Stop it,' she says, 'this isn't any of my fault.'

'Then don't bug me when I decide to go home for the hols!'

'Don't you yell at me, Malfoy. Don't even try.'

'You know...' he says, his tone changing slightly 'I forgot we were seventeen. A few days ago, it was like...like all the problems of everything went away and today, today I remembered it again.'

'Everything?' She whispers.

'All of it.'

'I don't want you to leave me here...'

He smiles grimly, 'this is what life is all about.'

''Bout what?'

'About...moving on. Look, Parkinson.  This is like...the brink of a war.'

'And this is when you leave me!'

'And this is when...' he whispers '...we live.'

The wind swirls around them, the sky gives way. The heavens...tired.  And two children, two unimportant beings, stand alone...and yet united.  Presents are forgotten, scarves on snowmen fall to the floor, gingerbread loses its taste.

And this is when...they live

xo

xo

xo