Forever

Forever

His life had never been a 'once upon a time'. It was far too dark and lonely to be called a fairy tale. There was too much death for it to be called a 'happily ever after'. He supposed that if compared to a character in a fairy tale, he'd be the Wolf. The evil antagonist that just complicates things and delays that precious happily ever after. It wasn't his fault though. He didn't ask for that role. He didn't want it. It was bestowed upon him. His gift. His curse. It was his to bear and his alone. For fifteen years he'd been true to his destiny. He'd done everything in his power to make the lives of those around him miserable and for fifteen years he had succeeded, for the most part. Except in one case, his case. No matter what he did, no matter what he tried, he never managed to foil him. He had never managed to defeat him. Even now, at the age of seventeen, he still does not know how to defeat him. But... he no longer wants to.

For Draco Malfoy has fallen in love with Harry Potter.

He liked to pretend that Harry tricked him, and that he was forced to fall in love with his archenemy. The person he was set out to destroy. Unfortunately for him, this wasn't so. If anything, Harry, being Harry, had pushed him away. Harry had told him countless times that he wasn't worth it, to go own with his life, to save himself and Draco, being Draco, did not listen. Draco Malfoy had always been a terribly spoiled child. He always got what he wanted, and now more than anything, he wanted Harry Potter. Here in their seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco is desperately trying to maintain his relationship with Harry amidst the war. This war that set them against each other and placed them on opposite sides of a deadly spectrum.

Draco paced the room, walking its perimeter for the hundredth time.

He should have been back by now. Draco's thoughts were racing. It had been 6 hours since he'd last seen Harry. Six long and merciless hours had passed, in which Draco had almost gone insane. In his troubled mind, Draco kept replaying the conversation he had with him just before Harry's departure.

"It's time," Harry said, outwardly appearing calm, but the slight tremble in his voice giving away his apprehension. He carefully ran his fingers over his scar he spoke once more.

"He's here."

Draco froze and his gray eyes hardened and fixed on Harry.

"You're sure?"

Harry nodded grimly, not quite looking Draco in the eye.

"I feel it. My scar... I can feel it. Everywhere. I- I know. This is it."

"Don't be so dramatic, Potter," Draco said his voice rising a notch. "You're acting like it's the end of the world."

Harry looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time. And there, in those emerald green eyes Draco saw anger, and sadness, resolve and fear.

"It is. If I don't succeed, it is."

"You're not alone," Draco said with a force he didn't know he possessed. "You have Weasley, and Granger, and if need be you have-"

"Don't say it," Harry said quickly. "Don't make me responsible for more death. If I could convince Hermione and Ron to stay away I would, but I can't. But I can stop you."

"You can't," Draco replied glaring at him. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Fine. Go on. Get yourself killed!" Harry sighed. "You're safe Draco. He thinks you're on his side. You're safe."

Draco stared at him, at a loss for words. "Harry-"

"I have to go. I don't know if I'll come back. I don't know what will happen. I love you. Don't hate me."

"I could never-" but before Draco could continue, Harry was gone.

"He'll come back," Draco said softly to himself. "He'll come back."

"He'll come back," Draco repeated sitting on the floor and bracing his back against the wall.

He did not know how long he slept, but it was well past midnight when he was startled awake by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore entering the Head Boy's room--Harry's room.

Draco looked up startled, a suppressed fear stirring in his heart. The calm and rational part of his mind told him that a visit from the headmaster meant nothing. He could be simply stopping by to borrow a cup of sugar. Draco could tell though, from the look in the old man's eyes that this was not the type of visit he wanted to be making.

"Mr. Malfoy."

Draco did not raise his eyes from the spot on the floor. He simply nodded to show his acknowledgment

"The war is over, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco merely nodded once more. He could guess the outcome. Surely, Voldemort was defeated. He had to be. Dumbledore would not be alive if Voldemort had won. But at what cost? He pondered the question, lines of concentration appearing on his forehead. What had they lost in order to gain victory over the Dark Lord?

"Would you like to know what happened?"

Leave it to the headmaster to ask the questions that needed verbal response. To ask the questions that would provoke the most emotional distress. Did he want to know? Yes. Was he better off not knowing? Probably. If he didn't know, he could move on. He could forget. He could do all the things that Harry-

Harry.

"Yes," Draco said softly, not daring to take his eyes off the floor. "Tell me."

Dumbledore heaved a sighed, and settled on a chair-- Harry's chair. For the next hour, he spoke uninterrupted.

"When Harry came to my office out of breath and panting, I knew. I knew then, that Voldemort had come to finish what he had started twenty-nine years ago. Harry did not have to speak, for the look in his eyes told me everything. The look in his eyes told me he did not want Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to be involved. He wanted this to be secret, a danger only he would face. But as always, Miss Granger out did us. She was by our side in a matter of moments, with Mr. Weasley following close behind. For a moment, I believed she'd put some sort of tracking device on Harry, but no. Naught but love drew her to him. Together, they marched together, under Harry's invisibility one last time. They made their way to the Quidditch pitch, slowly and, painstakingly. I followed, close behind, on the lookout for anything that may have been able to hinder their progress. But it seemed there was no use for me. Voldemort was not interested in surprise attacks. He had come to finish this, and to fight Harry face to face.

"Down on the Quidditch pitch, Voldemort had gathered all his Death Eaters...save one," Dumbledore said pausing briefly to look Draco in the eye.

"They were under strict orders not to attack, but Lucius Malfoy--"
This time, there was no pause. No time for Draco to recover.

"Lucius Malfoy, uttered the words to the Killing Curse, his wand pointed at Hermione Granger. She never had a chance."

At this, whatever little spark was left in the man's eyes was gone. It was as the realization was finally beginning to set in. Draco could see Dumbledore growing older as he spoke. He'd finally realized the price of this war, a price Draco had paid long before he was even born.

"Harry, was overcome with a myriad of emotion. You could see his pain, his grief in his eyes, but it was not he who killed Lucius Malfoy, but Ron Weasley. In an instant, Harry stepped in front of Ron, signalling that it was time. Voldemort stepped forward and they duelled. For hours on end, they duelled, neither of them able to best the other. Then finally Harry invoked the ancient spell-"

"The Lost Family spell."

Albus Dumbledore nodded, looking somewhat surprised. After all, Draco had been silent for an hour, showing no indication he was even listening.

"It seems so simple but in truth it is one of the most complex spells ever written. It called upon the lost powers of all those killed by Voldemort."

"So Harry defeated Voldemort?" Draco asked slowly, almost afraid of Dumbledore's answer.

"Yes."

"But he lost Hermione."

"No."

"She's alive?"

"Yes."

"And Potter?"

"Gave his life to bring her back. He said she did not deserve that fate."

"How- Necromancy-Dark Magic-"

"Harry defeated the greatest source of evil. He saved the world, as we know it. The fates decided he deserved one happiness, one chance to change the world."

"But at a price."

"Yes. Harry brought Hermione back into this world, but lost his life. He gave his life for her."

Draco sat, thoroughly shocked. Harry had been alive. He'd saved the world and had been alive! But he lost him. Harry had died to save his best friend. Harry was dead. Harry was gone. Harry would not be coming back.

"I'm sorry Draco," Dumbledore said, using his name for the first time. He paused at the door, watching Draco before he left.

Draco barely heard him, his mind awhirl. Damn Granger. Damn her for having Potter's love. Damn her for making Harry die.

Harry loved her so much that he gave his life to save her. But what about me Harry? Didn't you love me? Couldn't you leave well-enough alone for me?

Draco shuddered involuntarily and a dry sob racked his body.

"YOU PROMISED DAMN IT!" Draco screamed standing and punching the wall in a rage. "You promised me you'd come back."

But I didn't.

Draco froze. He heard his voice. He heard Harry's voice, but that was impossible. Harry was dead. Harry was gone. Harry wasn't coming back. Unless...

"HARRY!" Draco screamed, circling the room. "Harry if you're there, please."

But there was no response, save the words he'd screamed, resounding, echoing in the room. And it was true. Harry had told him, he did not know if he would return.

Don't hate me.

Those were the last words he'd ever spoken to Draco. Don't hate me.

"I don't, Harry." Draco whispered. "I don't hate you. Please come back."

But Harry would not be coming back. This realization was almost too much for Draco to bear, and sinking down against the wall, Draco's mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of Harry. And he remembered...

Harry lay on his back one arm wrapped possessively around Draco; the other crossed over his chest. "Draco..."

"Mmm?" Draco responded lazily. "Don't tell me you want more. We just spent-"

"Oh shut up," Harry said rolling his eyes. "I'm trying to be serious."

Draco glared. He did not like being told to what to do.

"First you tell me to open up, now you tell me to keep my mouth shut. I don't know what you want from me anymore."

"Oy," Harry said. "That's more than enough out of you. Can I be serious now?"

"Fine," Draco said settling back into Harry's arms.

"Draco, this won't end well."

"Harry-"

"Let me finish," Harry said covering Draco's mouth with his hand

"I don't know what the outcome of this world will be. I don't know who will die. I don't know who will live. But know this, whatever happens, I love you. I used to be so afraid that this... That we were just a dream, some kind of wonderful, but deluded fantasy. I became even more afraid when I realized you were my reality because reality is harsh and cruel-- and I'm still afraid, so afraid to lose you...To lose everything. But no matter how this ends, everything was worth it. This short time that we've spent with each other is worth it."

Draco stared up at him, eyes wide. On very rare occasions did Harry ever bare his soul, speak what was on his mind. To see him vulnerable like this and to hear him tell Draco how much he loved him touched Draco's heart, as nothing else had been able to.

"I lay back sometimes," Draco said softly, startling Harry.

"And I just think. About you, about us, about how much we've been through."

Harry smiled. "That was poetic."

Draco glared.

"Shut up. You had your moment, let me have... poetic? You have something against poems?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and propped himself up on one elbow.

"You wrote a poem?"

Draco looked away, mumbling his answer.

"What?" Harry asked, turning Draco so that they were face to face.

"Yes. I wrote a bloody poem. Damn your negative Gryffindor influence. I hated poetry until I met you."

Harry grinned.

"As I recall, you hated me too."

Draco sighed.

"You're terrible, Potter."

"Read it to me."

"It's not finished."

"So finish it."

Draco glared a rather impatient look on his face.

"It's not that simple Potter."

"Well," Harry said pulling Draco back into his arms, "poem or no poem, I know one thing that's simple."

"What's that?"

"I love you."

Draco smiled and ran his fingers through Harry's jet-black hair.

"I love you too."

Draco sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the parchment. He knew how to finish the poem now.

On the day of Harry's funeral, just before everyone arrived, Draco stood at the foot of Harry's grave, clutching the piece of parchment in his fist. It was simply labelled 'For Harry'. He dropped it into the coffin then, and turned away, not daring to look back. He could not be there. They would not understand, but he had paid his respects. He had given his dues. This is what Harry would have wanted.

Hermione was the last one to leave the casket before it was lowered into the ground. Tears blurring her vision, she grasped Harry's cold and lifeless hand. She had loved him so much, and he had given his life for her. She ran her hands over his face before noticing the bit of parchment rolled up and placed in Harry's left hand. Prying it from his dead fingers, she unrolled it and read the words written in blood. She felt the tears she had worked so hard to keep from falling, flow freely from eyes.

I lie here and wonder
About the enigma that He is
About His smile
His laugh
His imaginary kiss

His eyes bore into my soul, never does He look at me
His voice resounds in my head, never does He speak to me
His hands hold me close, never does He touch me
I am lost, so lost in Him,
I am found, so found in Him

I sit back and ponder
About what He really is
About His mind
His love
His lingering presence

His eyes bore into my soul, never does He look at me
His voice resounds in my head, never does He speak to me
His hands hold me close, never does He touch me
I am ruined, so ruined in Him,
I am safe, so safe in Him

I stand still and cry
About my love for him
About His heart
His pain
His shattered soul

His eyes bore into my soul, never does He look at me
His voice resounds in my head, never does He speak to me
His hands hold me close, never does he touch me
I am so dead, so dead in him,
I am so alive, so alive in him

I lie here and wonder
About the enigma that He is
About His life
His loss
His broken self

His eyes bore into my soul, for He once looked at me
His voice resounds in my head, for He once talked to me
His hands hold me close, for He once touched me
He's so gone, so gone from me
I am so far, so far from me

Hermione sobbed and placed the parchment back into the casket. She was unsure of where the paper had come from, but now she knew why Harry had been so hesitant to return her love. Another person loved him, and whoever that person may be, had the privilege of having their feelings returned. For only a person deeply in love could write words such as those. But in the end, Harry had given all that away, just for her.

"I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione whispered, turning away and beginning the long walk back to the castle.

From his place by the trees, Draco watched as Hermione left. He traced the scar on his right hand absently. She had loved him. Draco knew that. And Harry had loved her. That was why he gave his life for her. But for Draco, he'd given him something better. He'd given his Draco his happily ever after. His till the end. His forever.

-fin-