Harry stood there, watching Hermione and Draco dance, so in sync, as if they were made for each other. Every step and twirl molding perfectly into their perfect balad-their own escape. The story shown was one of love, passion and determination-how could he ever compare? What could he give that the pale boy with striking grey eyes didn't already have?

----

He remembers a year ago-oh how in love they were-their romance was almost everything Harry had ever wished for. Happiness. Draco and him would wake up next to each other and plan activities or go to work but, still, there was never an "I love you" missing, they said it whenever they saw each other-it was their thing and everybody knew that. So perhaps Harry should've noticed something was wrong when those "I love You"s went from a duet to a solo. And the once beautiful song of love turned into a devastating cry for help-a representation of failure. An empire crumbled into the ground all over one girl.

Harry really would've never seen it coming, his lover leaving him for his best friend, two people against one and Harry was defeated. It took months for him to finally be able to get it all back together, to get his cool and charisma back. It took even longer for him to even genuinely smile-especially when all around him there was the news of the break-up. "A heartbreaking split" the newspapers called it and Harry had to laugh at the sight of it all. How could he have been so blind.

----

Harry drank red wine from his glass cup, looking elsewhere which was extremely hard to do. It was oh so tempting to have a look and take a bite out of the sadness. Right then and there he understood why Adam and Eve ate the apple. Either way, the sadness consumed him little by little-he couldn't stand to be there anymore.

He couldn't help but wonder that maybe if he would've done something different-more effective- Draco would still be there for him. And as he resurfaced back into reality after drowning in dark thoughts-he realized how much he could relate to the song. "And if she ever goes back to the water fountain The handle will be broken and the rust set in But my hand, it will be open and I'll try to fix it My heart, it will be open and I'll try to give it" After a while of keeping it all in, the first tear slipped-almost as easily as Draco and Hermione left him. And all the rest poured out like a waterfall.

When Harry returned home he cried himself to sleep wondering what he did wrong to be left alone like a lost puppy.