They're all liars, the lot of them. With their honey sweet lips and murderous tendencies. Sob stories for all of them, lies tangled with truth. No tears they weep for the wicked and the loved. And Death loves all of them. (if only they didn't take so much from him, Death muses sadly)

Fruitcake is gross. That's it, that's the plot. Or it takes me five chapters to get Harry to explain to everyone why fruitcake is nasty.

A camera. It's hard to believe all these troubles started with a camera. A cursed camera, a lovesick fool, and a poor boy who only wanted to live his life. "A camera, you say?" "Yes, officer." The officer chuckled. "Give me proof that a camera of all things killed all these people." "Officer?" "Yes?" "Say cheese."

"Well, I licked it, so now it's mine." Tom stares at Harry as if his head's fallen off. "It's my bloody cock, what do you mean it's yours?"

And they danced through the night, blood gleaming in their teeth.

One-shot. Harry is falling apart and Draco doesn't notice until it's too late. Songfic, based on the song Hold On by Chord Overstreet. Rated T for dark themes. Drarry.