Theme and Variations

THEME AND VARIATIONS

THEME

One boy turns to the other.

"I-I love you," he says.

I.

It is time.

This parting has been long overdue, it has been looming over them ever since the beginning. Harry has known this, known that he has to leave to confront Voldemort, face his destiny. Even though he hates to do it this way, he knows he would never be able to leave were Draco awake, were Draco able to react.

So he draws the covers up to Draco's chin and tucks him in gently. So he smooths Draco's hair back and plants a lingering kiss on his forehead. So he strokes Draco's cheek and whispers, "I love you" in his ear. And when Draco murmurs in his sleep, Harry smiles fondly, sadly, takes one last look, drops a note on the bedside table, and leaves.

II.

"You had something to say to me?" Harry's voice is impatient, and slightly apprehensive.

Draco keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

"I-I," he stammers, his usual confidence having seemingly deserted him. "I love you," he blurts out, lifting his head, meeting Harry's eyes...

...which are filled with nothing but disgust and revulsion. "You sick bastard," Harry hisses before turning and leaving.

Draco fancies he can see his heart as it falls to the floor and shatters.

III.

Draco watches Harry sleep.

"I love you," he whispers, knowing and regretting that he can't tell Harry this while he is awake. He kisses Harry's cheek gently, then wriggles closer to spoon against him and bury his face in the back of Harry's neck.

Harry opens an eye and smiles.

IV.

The students of Hogwarts are all looking up at the ceiling and pointing, exclaiming in amazement, disgust, or delight.

Harry stumbles blearily into the Great Hall, rubbing his eyes and wondering what all the commotion is about. A female student sees him and starts jibbering excitedly, pointing at him and drawing everyone else's attention. He starts inching back, but is too late. Soon, he is the centre of a squealing horde of teenage females. Catching the odd word about writing and the ceiling, he looks up.

"I Love You, Harry Potter" is written up there in Draco's elegant hand.

Mortified, Harry looks at his feet, blushing madly. He has never been so embarrassed. Or so incredibly happy. He is going to get his incredibly sweet, exhibitionist boyfriend for this.

Across the Hall, Draco grins.

V.

Harry sits up, turns to find...the empty space Draco has left on his side of the bed. Of course he expected it; Draco never stays. But still, every night he hopes, and every morning he is disappointed. Long used to this, he curls up on his side, pulling Draco's pillow to him and burying his face in it.

"I love you," he whispers brokenly.

VI.

Harry watches detachedly as the blood gushes out from his wrists to pool on the floor. He dips his fingers into the puddle of red and begins to write on the wall.

When Ron and Hermione find him, it's already far too late. Face chalk-white, Ron runs for a teacher. Hermione stays longer and her gaze is drawn from Harry's lifeless body to the four words scrawled on the wall.

I love you, Draco.

VII.

"I love you," Draco declares drunkenly, lifting his glass and sloshing half its contents on the carpet. Harry bursts out laughing.

"You're so -hic- funny, Draco," he finally manages to say, having subsided into giggles punctuated by the odd hiccup.

"I'm serious!" Draco insists with a slight slur, slamming his firewhisky on the floor.

"Mm hmm," Harry replies unbelievingly, pouring himself another glass of liquor with intense concentration, but still managing to spill some.

"I am!" Draco says, starting to get annoyed at not being taken seriously. "Here, I'll prove it."

He sets his glass down, moves over to Harry, and presses their lips together in a clumsy kiss.

"Oh," Harry says, and things might have gone further if his eyes hadn't lost focus and he hadn't collapsed. Draco has just enough time to feel disappointment before he, too, passes out.

And when they wake, curled up together on the floor, Draco feels extremely embarrassed and awkward, but Harry snuggles against him shyly and whispers that he shares the sentiment and then everything is ever so much better than okay.

VIII.

Draco is waiting.

Every day since Harry left for the last battle, he has sat on the front doorstep, waiting for his love to return. And he will continue to sit there, every day, until his love comes home.

"I love you," he whispers to the wind, as if it could somehow carry his words to the boy, no, the man he misses so much.

IX.

"I love you," Harry says, immediately blushing a bright pink.

"Oh!" Draco squeaks, eyes wide, face turning a bright red.

Ron watches as each in turn blushes a consecutively darker shade of red. He wonders aloud if this is another of their little competitions, each trying to outdo the other and blush the darkest shade of red.

Hermione hits him.

X.

Draco knocks. The door opens and it's Harry; a bit taller and older, perhaps, but still the amazingly wonderful Gryffindor of five years ago.

"Yes?" A pause, then, "Draco?"

"Yes," Draco smiles. "Harry..Harry, I've come to tell you that...I love you."

"Draco, I-" Harry begins.

"Daddy!Daddy!" A minature Harry runs up from inside the house and latches on to his father's leg.

Harry looks at Draco sadly. "I'm sorry, Draco, but you're too late. It's too late."

Stricken, Draco nods dumbly. He hadn't thought, expected...

"Ah, well," he says softly, regaining his voice. "I'm sorry for bothering you then. Goodbye, Harry." He turns and leaves a lifetime's worth of hopes and dreams behind.

He never thought love would have a use-by date.

"Daddy, who was that?"

Harry looks down, smiles at his small son. "A friend, James. An old friend."

XI.

Harry strides through the school grounds, looking for Draco.

Today is the day he's going to tell him; months of longing, weeks of sleepless nights have all led up to this point. Today he will finally find the happiness, the love he has been searching for for so long. He turns a corner and finds Draco, only Draco is not alone; he is leaning against a wall, kissing a -girl-.

Harry strides through the school grounds, looking for a corner in which he can curl up and cry.

XII.

Before Harry can lose his nerve, he strides up to the other boy and grabs the sleeve of his robes.

"Draco, I love you," he says quickly, in a determined voice. The other boy turns.

"I'm not Draco."

Face flaming, Harry runs.

XIII.

It seems that every time Harry tries to confess to Draco, something interrupts him.

The first time he tried, it suddenly started raining, and they'd had to run back to the castle. He'd stuck to indoor locations after that.

The second time he tried, their cauldron boiled over, and Draco had run to add the vervain, asphodel and dragon's blood.

The third time, Hedwig had flown in and dropped a bundle of letters on his head.

The fourth time, Snape had walked in on them. It had taken him weeks to work up the courage to try again after that.

This time is the fifth. He's going to do it no matter what.

"Harry?" Draco asks mildly. "You had something to say to me?"

"Er, yes. Draco, I-"

"Draco! A fight's broken out in the Slytherin Common room!"

Draco turns to Harry. "I'm really sorry, but you know how it is, being a prefect."

All Harry can do is nod. Draco shoots him a grateful smile," Next time, alright?"

"Draco!"

"Coming!" he calls, before running off in the direction of the dungeons.

Harry sighs. He's beginning to think he's cursed.

Snape snickers. Tormenting Harry Potter is fun!

XIV.

Harry returns to his desk to find a small, red and white wrapped box waiting for him. Thinking it somewhat strange that he has received a Valentine, he reads the attached note. Face suddenly flaming, he looks immediately at Draco, who is hiding behind a large textbook, but who's barely visible ears are decidedly pink.

Hermione, who has been watching all along, smothers a giggle.

XV.

Harry has heard of what his lover has been doing since he left; sitting on the doorstep, waiting for him to return. It made his heart ache, makes it ache still, but it strengthened his resolve to survive all the more. And he has. And he's home.

He sees Draco before Draco sees him, sitting on the doorstep, green scarf fluttering in the wind. He reaches the gate, and is seen.

"Hey, Draco," he says, his voice catching. "I'm home. I'm home."

Draco stands, newspaper falling from his lap, mouth open and face filled with wonder.

"Harry Potter," he whispers hoarsely. "The Boy Who Saved The World."

"No," Harry says. "Just Harry. Just your Harry."

He takes three steps and then Draco is there, in his arms, holding him like he is never going to let go. And maybe he never will.

He feels rather than hears Draco murmur three words into his neck.

"I love you too," he whispers into Draco's hair.

End.