1,000 Days

~Chapter 2~

Draco

Draco ticked off another day on his hand-made parchment calendar. He had 452 more to find a cure. 452 out of 1,000. Where had the time gone?

The curse his father had put on him gave him one thousand days to live, to find a cure. Harry knew, of course, he was there when it happened. Lucius died that day, by Harry's wand.

Everyday, for nearly 1½ years, Draco concocted a new potion to try to lift the curse. It was one of the reasons he took the job at Hogwarts. It had been weird, at first, to take over his mentor's shoes. And it was hard, Snape had died only months before in battle. He knew he'd probably be dead soon. After all, the curse may last a thousand days, but that doesn't mean another curse may have been put on him to speed up the effects.

He walked into the staff room for breakfast soon after his shower, and, of course, gelling his hair back.

Giving Ginny Weasley a kiss on the cheek, he settled into the chair next to her and began to fill his plate.

"Are you going to tell him?" she asked. He knew she was referring to Harry and the fact that he was with Ginny and everyone but Harry knew. Draco knew he should be the one to tell him, but how do you tell your ex-fiancé that you're over him and dating again? Epically since you just lied to him and said you weren't.

dquo;Maybe," he answered.

"If you don't, someone else will. You know he and Hermione are close."

"I also know they haven't spoken in nine years."

"And he hasn't spoken to Ron in eight months, that doesn't mean they're not still friends. Speaking of Ron--"

"No." Draco said firmly. "You know he hates me, he has the entire time we've known eachother. He only put up with me while I was with Harry, and you saw his face when we announced we were getting married. He would go ballistic if he knew about us."

"Fine, fine. And if he sees us at a Quidditch match? What then? Are you going to explain or are you going to let him curse you into oblivion?"

"He'd probably curse us both," Draco muttered.

"He wouldn't touch me," she answered. "I'm his innocent baby sister, remember?"

"All the more reason he doesn't know about me. I'm the evil Malfoy who was supposed to be a Death Eater. If I'm with the baby sister, my intentions could only be evil."

The staff room was starting to fill up. Parvati and Lavender were sitting together, obviously they were married after all, and Harry and Hermione were walking in with Neville and Loony Lovegood. Draco laughed at his own childish behavior.

"What's so funny?" Ginny asked.

"My thoughts," he replied. "Thinking like a teenager again."

"That's never a good sign," Harry said sitting across from him. "You were a vile teenager."

"Oh, like you were any better?" Draco demanded, the fight from the other day surfacing in his mind.

"I was joking," he replied getting angry again. Draco knew the look in his eyes. They always got darker and more intense when he was getting angry.

"Keep your shirt on," Draco answered. "We're all adults here Harry."

"Maybe, maybe not. You were the one thinking like an adolescent bonehead just a minuet ago."

"You don't know what I was thinking!"

"I don't do I?" Harry asked. "You laughed when you looked at Luna. Teenage plus Luna equals--"

"Loony," Luna interrupted sounding surreal. "That's what everyone called me. Loony Lovegood."

Draco stared at Harry in disbelief. "Your memory is too good."

"Only about certain things," Harry answered. "I can't remember everything like for the life of me, I can't remember why I decided to ask you if you would--"

"Wasn't it obvious, Harry?" Draco demanded knowing Harry didn't want the beans spilled for Hermione. He knew Harry had never wanted her to know. He was good at protecting him like that. "Why you asked me that? Five years. It's the obvious next step. Or at least it was to you. Why didn't you wait until the war was over? Why did you ask me two weeks before my father cursed me?"

"Because of what day it was. And I didn't know if the war would ever end."

"So that prophecy meant nothing inside your small brain? You knew the war would end, you just didn't know how. You asked me because you were afraid you'd die before you got the chance."

"Well if you know so much, you tell me? Why did I ask you only two weeks before your father cursed you?"

"The same reason you're still fighting me now. The same reason you're not dating yet. Because you still--"

"Yes I do. Is it that big a secret? But who said it to whom first? You did."

"I know I did!"

They were both standing, leaning across the table, almost nose to nose. Draco felt the urge to kiss him again, but knew he couldn't. There was a reason he'd left Harry. There was a reason they were fighting about this. There were so many reasons why they could not be. And it wasn't just because those 452 days would pass by quickly, it wasn't just because those days were filled with finding a cure, it was also because Draco wasn't sure he could find that cure. He wasn't sure he could handle it if' Harry saw him die. That was the reason Draco left him in the first place.

Ginny cleared her throat and they sat down.

"So," she said changing the subject, "any lessons planned yet, Harry?" she asked.

"A few," he answered shortly. He wasn't in the mood to talk, Draco could see that easily.

"Are you going to enlighten us?" Hermione asked pointedly ignoring what she had just seen.

"No."

"Harry, get a grip," Draco muttered. "It won't kill you to have a conversation."

Harry stood and walked briskly out of the room, slamming the door shut on his way.

Draco said his good-byes to everyone and walked out as well, though not to follow Harry. He walked in the direction of his room.

He stared at the standard size 2 pewter cauldron on the floor in front of him and waited for the water to start boiling. When the water bubbled and splashed over the side, he dropped in a bezoar and waited ten minuets before adding other ingredients.

He turned down the temperature of the fire and let it simmer while he went back to his lesson plans. The potion would have to sit a few days before he could take it.

He decided to test his older students on what they remember before carrying on with the lessons and teach his first years the basics before going into any potions. Hopefully, this year's bunch wouldn't be as bad as last years, and hopefully he'd live long enough to not only finish the year, but also see next year and many after that. He didn't want to die.

He had decided not to favor his house last year, unlike his predecessor, who had never once taken a point away from the Slytherins. But he wouldn't do that this year. The other Heads favored their houses, well, not Hermione who took over being Head of Gryffindor when McGonagall became Headmistress. She also took over McGonagall's teaching post. Nine years.... Dumbledore retired nine years ago.

It was weird, all of them being back in the castle. They hadn't all been together since the Order dismantled. There were still get-togethers, but not everyone showed up for those. Draco hadn't shown up to one since the break up. He had always known that Harry would be there and he couldn't show his face like that. And he most definatly couldn't handle the way Ron would look at him. Loathing, disgust, pure unadulterated hatred. He could see it every time he closed his eyes.

No one really knows why Dumbledore retired from being Headmaster, except of course Dumbledore. The same reason no one knows why Harry quit being an Auror. That was all over the papers. He could still remember seeing the front page headline that read: Boy-Who-Lived Quits Ministry Employ.

For three weeks the Daily Prophet tried to reach Harry for an interview. The headlines kept saying: Harry Potter Refuses To Talk; Minister Interview Inside, and Senior Auror Jennies Talks About Potter's Resignation, stuff like that. Then, over a month ago now: Professor Potter? Harry Potter New Teacher At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The week before September first rolled around and all the teachers were excited.

Draco and Ginny sat in front of the fire, each reading a book. Draco had read and re-read the one sentence without taking in a word of it six or seven times before giving up and putting the book down.

"I can't concentrate," he said out loud, admitting it to himself as much as Ginny.

"And that's a surprise?" she joked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "The things I put up with from you," he sighed.

"You love me and you know it," she replied.

But that wasn't true. Draco didn't love Ginny, he had feelings for her, but he wouldn't go as far as to say it was love. He'd never said it either; he didn't think he ever would, not when part of him still wanted Harry. Proof of which was that morning after they'd fought. He'd missed Harry so much more since then.

"I-I didn't mean," she said slowly. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Draco said quickly. "Don't worry."

He studied her. She moved gracefully as she put her book down and stared at him. Her dark chocolate eyes held his gray ones. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"No," Draco replied softly. "Don't be sorry. I'm the one who should be apologizing here. You haven't done anything wrong. I can't even get over my own past."

"You loved him, Draco. I know you did. Part of me thinks you still do, and that is what confuses me. Why did you leave him?"

"Because I'm dying. I couldn't let him see me die."

"I think he still loves you too. I've talked to him--" Draco, who had been previously looking outside, looked at Ginny with his mouth slightly open. Girlfriend + ex-boyfriend + talking = trouble. Trouble was never good. "--and he seems fine and cheery on the outside, but, I've known him long enough to see that he's lying. Maybe you should go to him. That way, my brother won't have a fit when he finds out you two are no longer together."

"He doesn't know?" Draco asked in shock. "But Harry's told him everything."

"Not everything. As of yet, I am the only Weasley who knows. Go talk to him, I'll see you at mealtimes."

She stood and kissed him on the forehead before walking out of the room.

Draco sat for a moment in silence. Did she just break up with him? She did didn't she! He stood and walked out of his room, unconsciously going to Harry.

When he in fact realized where his feet were carrying him, he stopped. So far every confrontation had turned into a full-blown argument. Would this time be different?

He took a deep breath and went to the door. He closed his eyes and raised a fist to knock, but his nerves got the best of him at the last second. He turned as the door opened and started to walk briskly down the hall.

"Draco, wait," Harry said.

Draco stopped dead. Well, not dead, but he had stopped so suddenly you would have thought he'd just walked into an invisible wall.

"You going to fight with me again?" he asked smoothly with his back still facing Harry.

"No. Ginny said you'd be coming. She said it was important."

Draco gritted his teeth. "What else did she tell you?"

"Nothing."

Draco turned around and saw a glimpse of Harry as he walked back into his room. Draco followed, not entirely sure why, just doing it because, well, this was Harry, he never could resist the man.

He shut the door quietly behind him and joined Harry on the sofa. "Ginny cornered me tonight," he announced. "You never told Ron?" he asked.

"Err...no, I haven't. I don't want to hear 'I told you so.' And that's probably what he'll say."

Draco nodded. "She also thinks I still love you, or at least a part of me does. She's not wrong, Harry. But we can't. Not with me dying like I am. I can't love you then die on you. That's why I loved you and left you."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself, Draco," Harry replied softly. He stood and walked over to a shelf of knick-knacks. Draco recognized almost every single one of them; he'd bought most of them. Harry lifted a small box and brought it back over to the couches and opened it.

Inside were two identical rings: simple gold bands with their anniversary engraved on the inside.

"You still have them?" he asked in disbelief. Draco remembered he sent his ring back to Harry in the mail, unable to face him in the flesh at the time.

"Of course I still have them," Harry answered. "I didn't know what else to do with them. Why did you give it back?" he asked taking Draco's out.

"Isn't that the rule? You asked me, I broke it off, so I have to give it back. If you were the one who broke it off, I'd be able to keep it."

"Why did you really give it back?"

"You know me too well," Draco retorted. "I gave it back because I didn't want to remember what I had just given up. You can understand that, can't you?"

"I can," Harry answered. "But I don't want to. Now you're the one who doesn't get it, Draco. When I asked you to marry me, I knew that would mean staying together until one or both of us died. I was prepared to see you die, not that I wanted to. I've seen so much death in my life, love. Yours was the one I wanted to help you through when your father cursed you. I wanted to be there for you till the end. Is that something you can understand?"

"But like you said, you've seen so much death. I didn't want to put mine on your shoulders."

"It would be there anyway, Draco. I would have read about your death in the papers and I would have been crushed because I was not there for you. You hurt me more by pushing me away."

"I am so sorry, Harry."

They were close, so close Draco could kiss him if he wanted to. And boy did he want to. But no, Draco couldn't do it. Kissing Harry again would mean that he was willing to get close to Harry again and he couldn't do that if he was about to die. No, he had to be strong. Give it another 453 days and then maybe. But not until this bloody curse was cured.

But was Harry was getting closer? Or maybe he was getting closer to Harry, he couldn't be sure. He could smell Harry now, that intoxicating sent that was of rain and grass and a hint of soap. Draco felt himself becoming light headed again, as that old feeling of lust and love overtook him. He couldn't help himself any longer: he kissed the other man.

Harry kissed him back hungrily, passionately, desperately. Draco brought a hand up to tangle in the raven colored locks and was surprised when he felt a dampness on Harry's cheeks. He pulled away concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Tell me," he said when Harry stayed quiet, avoiding his gaze. Something was wrong; Draco could feel it in his bones.

He saw the answer in Harry's brokenhearted glance. Draco hung his head. All of his protests and pleads said that this could not happen, that this should not happen, but was happening was hurting Harry again, even worse than before. He swore and hit the back of the sofa with a clenched fist. "Merlin, Harry, I'm sorry," he said fighting his own tears.

"How about we end it like it should have ended," Harry suggested drying his tears. "One last night just for us, the way it should have been."

Draco looked up at him. I'll do everything right, he decided nodding. "One last night."

They kissed again, Harry's face was still moist but he had stopped crying. Slowly, he unbuttoned Harry's shirt and allowed his hands to roam over the newly exposed flesh and scars and push the shirt off of his shoulders as Harry's hands found their way beneath the hem of his. They broke apart so Harry could slip the shirt over his head, then went back to their kissing. Eventually, they stood and made their way to Harry's bed

They woke up the next morning in each other's arms. Draco looked down at the sleeping man in his next to him. He stroked his fingers down Harry's tan cheek a smiled as he smiled.

Seconds later, Harry's eyes fluttered open to reveal those brilliantly green irises. He looked up at Draco sadly. "Breakfast?" he asked pretending the previous night hadn't happened. Draco knew this tactic. It was the one Harry used the first time they had kissed, back in sixth year. Pretend nothing happened; hide your pain.

Draco closed his eyes and lay back on the pillow. "So we're done then are we?" he asked. "Finally found closure?"

Harry sat up. "Is there anyway to answer that question without sounding cold or desperate?"

"Not really, no. Hey, that's what the night was for though, right?"

Harry nodded. "Breakfast?" he asked again.

Draco nodded. "Breakfast," he answered.