I Don't Care

Chapter 8

Now, instead of Harry avoiding Draco, it was the other way around. The forthcoming articles hadn't been pleasant to say the least. Draco had known they'd be bad, but he didn't think they would be this bad.

"Death Eater Imperios Savior" was not a headline Draco had ever thought he would have to read.

Potter tried doing damage control of course. Putting out his own statement through The Quibbler, essentially saying what he himself had told Draco. He also mentioned that he could throw off the Imperius curse, and would be more than willing to test that theory if anyone was stupid enough to try.

But still, Draco knew he was making things harder for Harry than they needed to be. It was difficult trying to avoid the other man when he seemingly always knew where Draco was. The only safe place he could find was his room, where Potter had enough self-respect not to barge in.

It was a challenge trying to find a schedule where he could enter the art room without Harry being there. Both men seemed to need an artistic outlet, and it was hard for Draco to tell just when Harry was actually in there, because if he was he was in the booth in the back. Draco was beginning to feel bad about the lack of potions help, but if Harry really needed help, Draco was sure Hermione could provide it.

After a week of careful avoidance, Draco should've known that things would come to a head. He was surprised he lasted that long. It was late, or was it early? Time always seemed to escape him at 3am when he was aimlessly wandering about, unable to sleep.

He entered the quiet art studio, locking the door behind him. Taking out his painting supplies, Draco set himself up in the corner. It was too late when he realized Harry was in the booth, but he was transfixed by his voice. Harry's song choices were oh so telling, and Draco wondered how he was doing.

Quickly, he found out the answer was not good.

Close up camera one
The hero sings in this scene
The boy that gets the girl gets to go home where they get married
But stop the tape,
The sunset still looks fake to me
The hero looks like he can't breathe
The damsel just left everything

You're like a black cat with a black backpack full of fireworks
And you're gonna burn the city down right now
Whoa whoa
You're like a black cat with a black backpack full of fireworks
And you're gonna burn the city down right now
Whoa whoa

Oh close up camera two
Cause the hero dies in this scene
Your inspiration is the loss of absolutely everything
And flashback on the girl
As we montage every memory
And we bleed out in the bathroom sink
And we fade out as the soundtrack sings:

You're like a black cat with a black backpack full of fireworks
And you're gonna burn the city down right now
Whoa whoa
You're like a black cat with a black backpack full of fireworks
And you're gonna burn the city down right now
Whoa whoa

She said get your hands off of my star
It's not your part but all your fault
And this jealous actress has a habit of making things sound way too tragic
Get your hands off of my star
It's not your part but all your fault
And this jealous actress has a habit of making things sound way too tragic

And this jealous actress has a habit
Of making things sound way too tragic
Oh this jealous actress has a habit
Of making things sound way too tragic.

You're like a black cat with a black backpack full of fireworks
You're gonna burn the city down right now
Whoa whoa

You're like a black cat with a black back pack full of fireworks
And you're gonna burn the city down right now
Whoa whoa
You're like a black cat with a black back pack full of fireworks
And you're gonna burn the city down right now
Whoa whoa-ahh