Just Like You

~ Just Like You ~

It's not as if I knew you would leave. I knew that you'd thought about it that day when we had that God forsaken argument. Whether it was because you thought we wouldn't work out or because you were just being thick, I'll never know. I'll never know because you're gone now. Not just from me, but from everyone.

I'll never know ... because you're dead.

Why the hell did you go join Voldemort? I always thought you'd decided not to, that you were, after all, disgusted with your dad. I always thought that if any one of the Malfoys died, it would be Lucius.

But no, it was you.

I used to think that it wasn't fair for you to die instead of your dad. I was sure that for you to die would be impossible. I've already lost my parents and my godfather, how is it possible for you to go? That would be too much. God knows it, I know it, every-one knows it. I thought that after Sirius, I wouldn't lose anyone again. I never told anyone this, not even Ron or Hermione, because I thought it would sound incredibly cliché... but I thought we'd be together... forever.

I was wrong. Dead wrong.

You always told me that you'd never become a Death Eater, that you'd never go to that side. "How stupid do you think I am, Potter?" Do those words sound significant? They were quite re-assuring at the time. I knew you didn't support Dumbledore in the least bit, and I thought that us being with each-other was important enough. Of course, you never came out and said that I was the reason, but that was my assumption. Was it stupid or wrong to think so? I suppose I'll never find out now, will I?

Then again, I didn't think you needed to say it outright, because every time I kissed you, I felt it. I don't mean just physically, either. I mean, I really felt it, what-ever 'it' was, deep down, like a lifelong promise. Those perfect lips on mine, your moist breath down my neck... I even remember the way your eyelashes fluttered against me, how soft they were. I knew that I was the only one you would ever kiss that way. Of course now it's impossible for you to share such intimacy anyone at all, isn't it, Draco? I'd imagine so.

I found out about your death the worst way possible. The fact that you'd left already had me more drunk than even the most pathetic Muggle made it all the better. Ron wasn't speaking to me, Hermione wasn't owling me, and even Mrs. Weasley was a little distant with me after she found out about us. Sure she tries to hide it, but I catch her looking at me, confusion clear in her eyes.

When I did receive an owl, there was a simple white envelope attached to its leg. It had a wax seal that I didn't recognise at first, and then I knew it was the one your mum used when she sent you all of those things during school. Now that I think back, it was really quite pathetic just how much I noticed about you. So then I wondered, What could any member of Draco's family want with me?

That was when there was a small ray of hope... Maybe it was a letter from you.

I felt completely stupid after reading the letter. But first, I longed for it to be your small letters in sentences with your deepest apologies and saying that you wanted to come back. I cut myself on accident when I opened the envelope; perhaps I was too eager to read it. I jumped and watched the violent rosy liquid drip from the slit in my skin. Then I remembered those scars on your wrist from the last time I saw you, which dejected me. The sting from the new cut was magnified by tenfold at the thought of you, dragging that blade across your perfect flesh. It seemed like something only an angst-ridden, misunderstood, suicidal Muggle would think about. It seemed like something so beneath you, Draco. Were you still cutting yourself? I hoped to God that I was about to find out.

It wasn't your handwriting, but your mum's. You could probably imagine the shock, couldn't you? Your mother's barely spoken two words to me except 'Hello boy,' and the occasional cold-blooded sniff.

So I read on...

I was cleaning out Draco's quarters today. I found something that you may find rather amusing. I found many letters, perhaps 130? They were all folded rather neatly. I only read some, but after the first one I recognised the handwriting on every single piece of parchment. I didn't need to read on, because I knew that they were all from you.

At first, I was extremely uncomfortable about the situation. For days I was furious with you, because I was certain that you were the reason that my Draco left me. Not only that, but the fact that it was you. Why you, HarryPotter? I never knew about this, well, new-found preference, as Lucius and I always prayed he would marry a pureblood girl.

After some weeks, I finally realised that it would have to be some reason far greater than I could imagine. To this day, I still don't know. There are probably many things about you and my son that I'll never know, but that doesn't matter to me now.

Which brings me to the point of my letter to you.

I received an owl from the Ministry of Magic today at approximately 9:30 a.m. It was the worst letter a mother could ever receive even in her worst nightmares. They told me that they'd found Draco's corpse. I think that you of all people, given the circumstances, have a right to know the truth first-hand before it reaches the Prophet. He's dead, Harry...

God, I can't even read the rest. I'll summarise for you then. She went on to give me the details and odd points of your death. The Dark Mark on your forehead, which is something none of us get, the fact that you were left out in the open, everything.

Do you want to know what I did when I read that last sentence, Draco? I froze. I dropped the letter and I swear I stopped breathing. I just stood there, staring, like some kind of idiot, as if I couldn't believe what I'd just read. At first I thought she was lying to me. Maybe she hoped that I would leave you alone or something. But if it was going to get around anyway, why would she? I picked the parchment back up. It was still crisp from being rushed in the cold evening atmosphere. My hands shook like mad and I re-read every single word of that letter, hoping that I'd only gone mad. But when I did, it was still the same letter. No merciful or miraculous changes, nothing that I wanted to read. That was when I knew that your mum was telling the truth. You were gone. That's when I broke down and sobbed for what seemed like an eternity. Do you know that you're the only one who could make me do these things?

It reminded me of my 5^th year when I'd lost Sirius, only it was worse, much worse. This time, I didn't have anyone but myself to take it out on. I screamed for a while, but nothing helped. I contemplated killing myself. I really did want to die then. I could've been just like you and done something dense. All I had to do was find a good sharp edge and rake it across my own neck and that would be the end. I could have gone out so easily, and what was there to stop me? After all, I'd be with you again.

But then the thought crossed my mind that then, while I may see you, it wasn't exactly what I wanted. I was still angry with you in the first place.

I loathed myself as well, because as long as we were together, and as much as I think you may have known, I never told you that I love you.

I love you, Draco Malfoy.

~Fin