Always

Tear-filled eyes bored into his own. He dropped his gaze, unable to look any longer. He was filled with shame. With grief. With longing.

"I've lead a pampered life?"

The question hung in the air. Silence ensued until he spoke again.

"Have you forgotten all I've done? All I've faced? What I'd lost before I was even born? I was marked. I was marked for death before I even had a chance to live. By some sadistic humor that belongs to the gods I am still alive today because they love to see me suffer. They love to see me cry. Yes. CRY. C-R-Y. I do it often. Do you know why? DO YOU? No. No. You think it's because I don't have sixty Galleons to spend. Or because my shoes don't match my socks? Do you know why? IT'S BECAUSE NO ONE CARES IF I HAVE THOSE THINGS OR NOT."

His voice rose several octaves, the tears beginning to fall freely now. He was baring his soul to him. To him.

"My parents. They laugh at those kids that kill themselves. The say their 'unfit' and 'unworthy' and my personal favorite, 'stupid'. Oh what would they say if they knew I was one of those kids? WHAT WOULD THEY SAY? Or would they even be there long enough to care?"

His eyes now contained challenge. He was daring him to answer that question. The other boy remained silent.

"They never realized that I had been trying to kill myself at the age of eleven. Eleven, and I was drinking Ogden's Fire Whiskey and downing sleeping pills like there was no tomorrow. Well, I was hoping for there to be no tomorrow. No such luck tough. He had bigger plans for me. I wasn't meant to die then, without a cause. But I can die now. Once I've completed my task. I can die and I can die happy. I did my duty. I made him proud. I can stand up to every sadistic bastard that has made my life a living fucking hell and say 'I DID HIM PROUD'. That's my life's goal. I live to say four fucking words."

"If you saw what he does to me. What he makes me do to him. And you know what? My parents are bloody fucking proud because I'm doing it for the 'greater-good'. Well, that's if they even realize it's happening. My father's obsessed with him and my mother's got her head stuck up his arse. THEY DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME!"

The tears were falling once more, but his words were cold as ice. When the other boy did not speak, he continued.

"I hate them. I hate them, for not caring, for not being there, but there's nothing I can do. It's been proven. I am evil. I am sadistic. I am a bastard. I am foul. I am pathetic. You've told me these things plenty of times over. I am evil. I am meant to kill. I am meant to kill you."

After a long silence the other boy finally spoke.

"No."

Silence hung in the air again as both boys stared at each other. Finally, the he spoke again.

"You forget. I've been through the same. No one loved me. No one was there for me. Even they..."

He motioned to the Great Hall, where his friends were seated.

"They could never be there for me because I always had to be there for them. For seventeen years I've had no peace of mind. Every time, I had to wonder who would try to kill me. Who this spy at Hogwarts was."

"I was marked for death before I was born. I had done nothing. Same as you, I lost everything before I had anything."

His voice was even, forceful. He was beautiful.

"Now I know. It's you. You've been trying to kill me. You, Draco Malfoy, the vein of my existence are the one's that's trying to kill me. And I..."

He trailed off slowly. His eyes downcast. Draco could see the tears forming in his eyes. What was going on? Archenemies were staring at each other. Crying in front of each other. And at the moment Draco wanted to do nothing more than hold him.

"Harry..." He held up his hand signaling that he was not yet done.

"You are not evil."

"I am."

"No. You are NOT evil."

Draco glared.

"SHUT UP POTTER. You can't change what I am. You can't-"

Before he could finish the sentence, Harry had him pinned against the wall. His green eyes ablaze.

"Listen to me. For seventeen years I was able to save the world. I can save you. I will save you. I HAVE to save you."

Draco froze.

"You're a git with a hero complex."

"And you're beautiful."

Harry froze. He had not meant to say that. He did not want to say that. He wasn't supposed to say that.

Draco felt his heart swell. He thought he was beautiful. The first person to ever compliment him. What made it even better was the fact that Harry was the only person he'd ever cared about. Before Draco could comprehend what he was doing, he was kissing Harry. His hands were tangled in that mass of beautiful, soft, jet black hair. Then his hands were trailing over his body. He broke the kiss reluctantly. He did not want to but he had to. He had to tell him.

"I love you."

Harry's eyes opened wide.

"You- You- But aren't you supposed to kill me."

Draco shrugged.

"I didn't get to chose my destiny. I didn't get to chose whom I fell in love with either. I could have killed you so many times by now, but I didn't. I couldn't. I loved you and I had always loved you. At first, it came out in the form of hate, but now..."

Draco stared into his eyes. Grey eyes into green.

"Please don't hate me."

Harry felt his heart melt. Draco's voice was pleading.

"I love you too."

It was all he needed to say. Draco flew into his arms. Harry stood there holding him.

"Always," they whispered at the same time. "Always."