A Flawless Plan

A Flawless Plan

by Drea Leeways

Epilogue

"...And you have no idea why Draco did this, Harry?"

Dumbledore's gentle voice reached him from a great distance, echoing through the Great Hall. Harry tear his gaze from the floor, where it had been resting for the last ten minutes, to look at his still trembling hands before lifting his eyes to meet the Headmaster's weary face. He shook his head.

"I have no idea," he whispered faintly, his voice hoarse.

He had no idea. To begin with, he had no idea why he, Harry Potter was still alive. He had no idea why he, Harry Potter was staring, almost voiceless and unable to trust his feet, at Draco Malfoy's lifeless body. He had no idea why Malfoy had chosen to die. He had no idea why Malfoy had chose to die in order to save him.

Draco's body laid on one of the tables - the Slytherin table, Harry noticed. The Headmaster always paid attention to details. Even when details didn't matter anymore, like now. Suddenly, Harry experienced the urge to be as close to Draco as possible.

"Let's go to my office, Harry. Minerva will take care..." The Headmaster didn't finish the sentence. He looked at Harry and saw the teenager's white face and angry eyes, and didn't say anything more.

Taking a deep breath, Harry managed to stand up at last. He approached the table slowly, dreading the sight with each step that brought him closer, and yet unable to look away. Draco's face was calm - Of course it's calm, you bloody idiot, a voice screamed inside his mind, he's dead, that's why! But the thing was, there was no better word for it, because Harry couldn't let himself consciously acknowledge that dead-Draco's face was also the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life, or he would have broken into tears. And he didn't want to cry for Draco. There was too much he still didn't understand.

Only once before had Harry seen him looking like this, on the first day of holidays, in the snow. He hadn't been aware that the other boy was staying at Hogwarts as well. After all, why would Lucius Malfoy's son spend the Christmas away from his family? Harry had been out for a walk when he'd seen him, a dark silhouette on the perfectly white background... He didn't recognise him at first, and when he did, he wanted to return to the castle, but then he told himself that Malfoy wouldn't scare him away so easily. And when the Slytherin didn't seem to notice his approach, Harry stopped and watched, fascinated. Draco appeared to have sunk into a world of his own, as he gazed, barely blinking, at the sky. It was then the first and only time when Harry saw how beautiful Draco Malfoy truly was. Normally, Draco's features were unpleasant, not because of any physical fault, but because of the constant air of displeasure mixed with arrogance that twisted them. Every time Harry had looked into that face, he'd encountered nothing but a cold wall of hate and defiance, directed simply at the world when a more precise target happened to lack. Every time until then. It had also been the first time when Harry wanted to kiss Draco Malfoy.

"Come, Harry." Dumbledore's arm rested gently on his shoulder, pulling him away from the table. Harry resisted it.

"Please, Headmaster, I... is it all right if I stay here a bit longer?"

"If that's what you want, Harry. It's all over now." The old man took of his spectacles to rub the bridge of his nose, in a gesture that spoke of nothing but weariness. "He's finally gone, Harry, Voldemort is gone and Draco's life was the last ever lost to him. Don't blame yourself for it." And with these words of reassurance, Dumbledore was gone.

Of course, it was easy for the Headmaster to say that. But then, the Headmaster didn't know half of the story. Harry wouldn't have dared to look in the old man's eyes again in his life if he had. And Harry blamed himself for everything. He had been ready to let everybody down and die. He had stopped caring. He had let Draco kiss him and pretended to have forgotten. It was so easy to forget with Draco in his arms and at the same time so easy to wish to die. Harry couldn't have accepted what Draco had to give without wishing to die, and Draco - he had known and never tried to make him change his mind. Because then, Harry would have walked away.

Harry had been sure, until the very recent end, that Draco would betray him somehow. He hadn't been surprised when his first and last letter turned out to be a portkey. He hadn't been surprised when the portkey took him into the depths of the Forbidden Forest, straight into the hands of Voldemort. He hadn't been surprised when the icy, too familiar voice informed him with a perverse pleasure that he should thank Lucius Malfoy's son for his upcoming death.

"Young Malfoy proved he is a loyal and valuable servant," the voice said and Lucius bowed, "and he will be rewarded beyond his dreams."

The Death Eaters had formed a semicircle around their master's back, waiting. Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. Harry's own wand was being held by Lucius Malfoy in his left hand. They'd taken it from him as soon as he'd been portkeyed there, not that it mattered to Harry.

"What, no defying me this time?" Voldemort mocked him. Harry remained silent. "Perhaps you'll beg for your life, then?" But the curse never left his lips, because a dark figure appeared out of the forest's blackness, all wands now pointed at him but Voldemort's, which was still aiming at Harry.

"Draco." It was Lucius Malfoy who had spoken, and Harry's head turned to the newcomer in a split second. Draco stepped arrogantly into the clearing lit by starlight only.

"What are you doing here?" Lucius questioned his son nervously, but Voldemort signalled him to stop talking.

"Young Malfoy, though certainly uninvited, is welcome to stay, Lucius. Come closer, boy!" Draco obeyed and stood only steps away from Harry.

"I assume you've come to see Potter die," Voldemort continued.

"I've come to see the end of my mission, my Lord, and to tell my father how sorry I am to be his only son."

"He means, he's sorry that there aren't even more Malfoys to be your loyal servants, my Lord!" Lucius intervened hastily.

But Voldemort wasn't listening anymore, and focused his attention on Harry.

"You aren't going to beg, after all, are you, Harry Potter? Well, then, let's not play childish games any more..."

Time didn't slow down for Harry, as they say it happens when one faces his own death. Instead, everything that followed took place so quickly that time might have as well as rushed forward rather than slowing. Between an 'Avada' and a 'Kedavra', Draco swirled gracefully, placing himself between Harry and Voldemort, raising his own wand and barely having time to shout Accio before collapsing into a flash of green light. Between an 'Avada' and a 'Kedavra', the world rearranged itself around Harry, as he watched Draco's body falling, an instant after he had summoned Harry's wand from his father's hand. Harry reached for his wand over Draco's dead body and his own Death Curse hit Voldemort so unexpectedly and with such force that it didn't leave him any chance to fight back. And as the Dark Lord fell to the ground, his body already shattering to pieces, Harry also fell on his knees, still clutching his wand fiercely, and expecting to be killed any time now by the remaining Death Eaters, the ones that hadn't run already - all his strength gone, drained by the spell that brought the end to the most powerful wizard of all the times.

They didn't kill him. Dumbledore and the other teachers arrived just in time. And that's how he came to be staring at Draco's lifeless body in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore was gone now and Harry was alone. He laid his head on Draco's chest and closed his eyes. There was no body warmth, no rushed heartbeats this time, only silence and death. Harry wanted to cry, but he didn't allow himself to. Yet he wanted to cry because Draco had not only given his life tonight for Harry, but he had also given Harry's own life back to him. His heart didn't feel like cold stone anymore. His mind didn't have to bear a weight too great to carry. Harry was no longer responsible for the fate of the world. Voldemort was dead and he was free of nightmares, fears, death wishes. He felt alive again, and that was the irony of it all. Because he felt alive again, he wanted to cry for Draco. He also felt ashamed, and confused, and almost hated Draco again for it, which only worsened the feeling of guilt. And he wished he could understand who Draco Malfoy truly had been.

He tried to remember. He thought about their first years at Hogwarts, about silly pranks and Quidditch rivalry, but the answer wasn't there. He thought about Draco's growing hate for him, so petty that Harry was sick of it and stopped being bothered. Perhaps that's when it started, when Harry had stopped bothering. He'd underestimated Malfoy and dismissed him as a minor annoyance, like he had slowly dismissed everything from his life, running away from his - oh, how he used to hate the word! - destiny.

And yet, Draco managed to bring him back from the darkness of denial he had sunk into, not once, but twice. First time as 'her', then as himself, first time by showing him how to laugh again, second time by teaching him how to close his heart. He had also betrayed him twice. First time by killing an illusion, then by dying and leaving him with unanswered questions and guilt...

***

When Harry finally got to lay in his bed again, it was already early morning. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey had told him all he had to do now was rest and try to recover his strength, because everything would be all right again, and Ron and Hermione would soon be here, with him. But how could he sleep when only twenty-four hours ago Draco had been still alive and warm in Harry's arms?... He closed his eyes, trying to imagine Draco's warmth, before reopening them almost instantly, furious with himself.

"...you don't have enough of a soul to care..." Harry had told him on the night of the first betrayal... It was almost day now... And if he closed his eyes, he could almost see him again.

"...I live to prove you wrong..."

Harry wanted to scream angrily at him. ...Did you die for the same purpose, Malfoy?

"...love is only an illusion designed for fools..."

So late it was early... And Harry didn't fool himself about Draco. What had been between them proved that there were things more powerful than love, than an illusion...

"...I thought you were just an illusion..."

"...well, I'm not and I'm here now..."

...But who were you, really?

"...I didn't say I don't have a sense of humour though it might be too subtle for the simple minds..."

"...watch it, Potter..."

...You deceived me like you deceived everyone in the end. Why were you so good at hiding?

"...I like crimson, but I look absolutely horrendous in it, so it can't be my favourite colour, either..."

"...now, Potter, I hate you differently... very differently..."

...I had no idea I could want you before. It never crossed my mind. Just as, after the day I saw you in the snow, it never left my mind again. And I was scared.

"...but if you want a piece of advice, Potter, you don't go around displaying love bytes like that, it makes you look so owned..."

...How could I have wanted you? I don't know what scared me more. That I wanted you or that you wanted me as well, and how cold it made me feel inside. Cold, but safe. No pain if I could hurt you as well.

"...what I want, Potter, is to abuse and to adore..."

...Why did you do it, Draco? Why did you wanted me?

"...guess what?... I've found the Marauders Map..."

...I lied, you know. When the Map showed your name, I wasn't surprised.

"...how long since you knew, Potter?..."

In a way, I could have known long before that night, but I didn't let myself to. Since you kissed me on a deserted corridor and you had her eyes.

"...what do you think you're doing, Malfoy?..."

No, even before...

"...just go back to ignoring me Potter..."

Since we fought and then you started shaking in my arms with anger, and later on the same night, we kissed, and 'she' was shaking just the same.

"...I didn't know, until tonight..."

...It hurt even more because I should have known. And it was so easy to hate you afterwards.

"...I won't forgive you as long as you live..."

...But now you're dead, and I won't forgive you for that either.

"...just make me forget, Malfoy..."

...Why why why...

"...Merlin, Potter, tell me you're not crying like a baby..."

...I won't cry for you...

"...I hate you beyond hate, Potter..."

"...good night, sweet prince..."

...Who were you really, Draco Malfoy?

The End

Final Notes: ...And with a big, relieved sigh from the author's part, this fic is finally over. Okay, let me see... You totally, irrevocably hate me for killing Draco. And you're confused. How can Draco be dead if he was the story-teller for most of the story? I have one word for you: sequel. A sequel to explain things and fix the not-so-happy-ending problem. (There are always ways. And then, what's a minor detail like character-death to a fan fic writer?) Hey, it's Draco that has an 'issue' about happy endings, I have no objection to them - at least, as long as they are not overdone and leave something to the imagination. But I'm digressing.

Before continuing, let me get a bit sentimental and thank everyone who bared with me for this story and patiently read each chapter, and sometimes even reviewed. What would a writer be without readers? So thank you, guys, and I hope I have successfully managed to shock you - in the constructive, positive way, I mean - at times. ;-)

I'm aware that there are better pieces of fan fiction than this one out there (as there are worse - but that's not a constructive line of thinking, is it? :-)), I'm aware that it's been clichéd at places (with the tremendous amount of H/D fics, who can truly avoid clichés?), and confusing, and sometimes lacking consistent motivation for the characters' actions, and I'm also aware that there might've been slips of grammar, spelling etc. because for most of it, I didn't have a beta (not that I'm complaining, it was my decision. I don't like to depend on others, I guess), but I did my best.

As for the sequel, I'm not promising anything about when. I have the general idea, I even put down a few things, but the holidays period is almost over and writing is very demanding. Writing AFP had been easy and fun in the beginning, before it... kinda took over me. I started think about iso often, imagining the scenes, loosing sleep while trying to figure how to make Draco and Harry believable, or, at times, trying to convince myself that it's not a complete piece of useless rubbish, that it became tiring. Exhausting. And all I wanted was to see it completed and posted to the last word.

So I'm taking a break, I don't know for how long. Well, that's really it. If you reached the end of the notes, you're a truly patient person and fully deserve a delicious chocolate bar and a hug. Albeit virtual ones. ;-)

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