Author's Note: This is just a rather sweet little fic about two boys starting off on their own, trying to make it against all odds. It was supposed to be dark and depressing, because that's how I'm feeling right now, but it ended up rather fluffy. In any case, I hope you enjoy, and please review. Disclaimer: They belong to JKR, no copyright infrengment intended, no money being made, so don't sue!
It's just you and me against the world now. All those friends we thought we had, gone. Fleeting away like fickle autumn leaves beneath this new breeze gathering force beneath us, lifting us slowly up and away from all we knew. Or at least, everything we thought we knew. Rivalry and anger brewing for years between us, as hollow and fragile as the bones of some long dead owl, supposed to carry on the message of hate but shot down instead by love. Without that message, we forgot how we were supposed to act. Without my father at my back, and the rest of the world at yours.
I still remember that first night, fists flying; a broken nose, a bloodied lip. I hit you so hard, your glasses flew off and shattered, and for the first time ever, I saw your eyes without them, and noticed the constant glimmer there for what it truly was. Innocence, and fear. No hatred there, none at all, and something inside me clicked. I think that's when it clicked for you too, that strange feeling of something deep inside your chest groaning and rolling over, falling only to land hard and sudden, jarring your senses awake. For then we were kneeling in the mud, and for once, I actually forgot that my new dress robes were getting ruined. I traced the deep cut along your cheek where broken glass had sliced through, trying to wipe away the blood but only smearing it with dirt and you hissed under your breath with pain. I told myself later that was the last time I would cause you pain, but I can't help feeling now like it was only the beginning. I never would have imagined the pain the following months would bring.
Who would have guessed they'd hate us so? Your loyal Gryffindor's appalled by your fall from greatness, my faithful Slytherin's disgusted by my mutiny.
The Slytherin Heir and the Boy Who Lived, we'd each been famous in our own right, respected wherever we went in the wizarding world, loved and adored. Please, don't think I didn't see the fan letters you stuffed into your robes every morning at breakfast, glaring at Hedwig and begging her not to bring them anymore. Whether you liked it our not, you were idolized, and so was I. Not anymore though.
We became the queerest of the queer, no pun intended of course, but none the less outcasts of the Wizarding World in many respects. When news reached my father, he promptly disowned me, making it publicly known I was not a Malfoy any longer, and never would be again. That was perfectly fine with me though, as the public discovery of my father's allegiance to the Dark Lord those few years back had already soiled the name beyond repair, and the rumors flying around my family certainly hadn't died with Voldemort. Luckily, I'd seen it coming though, and had long since emptied my vault at Gringots. As for you, your aunt and uncle's refusal to take you back in was as great a relief as you could have hoped for. At last, you were free from cupboards and Muggles and hand-me-downs that swallowed you whole. Who ever imagined abandonment could taste so sweet? They called it exile, but us… we called it freedom.
That's how we find ourselves tonight, bundled up in our warmest robes and clinging together on your Firebolt, soaring high in the clouds so as not to be seen by any sea goers who may be looking up at the stars as we pass over the Atlantic Ocean. Your broom is fast, to be certain, much fast than mine, but we're not even halfway there and already it's been a long flight. You fell asleep before we'd even left London, flying over Oxford, or maybe it was Bristol, your head lolling back against my shoulder, and I pulled you close, tucking your glasses away carefully in my robes so they wouldn't fall into the sea. You're eyes squeeze tightly shut against the wind whipping at our faces and blowing our hair about wildly. The gusts are so strong up here that the wind bats us around like loose feathers, and it stings our faces, makes my eyes water as I try to keep us on course. Your cheeks are pink from the cold and harsh wind, your lips terribly chapped and I'm getting tired as well. I fly down, breaking through the clouds to ride above the shimmering surface of the ocean instead, which is by far much calmer. The clouds overhead are heavy, blocking out the small sliver of moon and it's dark enough by now no one will see us as we skim along above the water. I whisper a protective charm around the broom to block out the water and some of the wind, carefully trying to maintain our balance as I pull you closer, tugging the blankets up to shield your face and let you rest your head on my chest as you smile softly in your sleep. You're so beautiful right now, but then, you always are. In the months we've been together, I've never seen you so peaceful as you are now, and with the soft color staining your cheeks from the wind, you look innocent.. almost. My partner in crime, you've been so tense since this whole thing started last fall, and it's nearly summer now. I know losing your friends this way hurt you more than you'll ever say, discovering all their promises to stand by you no matter what were all just lies. Decidedly more painful than it was for me to lose my own so called friends, I always thought they were more trouble than they were worth anyway. We never have to see them again though, any of them.
Dumbledore had actually been the one to suggest we leave for America, where a Pureblooded wizard was little more than a myth, and few had even heard of the famous Harry Potter. A new beginning, just the two of us. Two nameless faces in the sea of humanity, the Melting Pot of the world, America. Just me and you and your Firebolt, and enough galleons stowed away that we could live like kings forever, or at least a year. Whichever comes first, it doesn't really matter at this point, because we're away from all the publicity and hurtful words and whispered curses. Alone now and starting a new life in a different country. It's just you and me now, Harry… you and me against the world.