Nobody's Hero

Nobody's Hero

Walking down the hallways of Hogwarts didn't seem to have the same appeal it did all those years ago. Harry smirked bitterly at the thought. It hadn't really been so long ago, but still, it felt like lifetimes. Six fateful years after he had found out about his wizardry and life still went on. Not with the grace and fluidity that it used to, but with awkward beats and pauses scattered along a rutted path. It's not like Harry's life was ever simple, but it was never quite...like it was now. Now, as the Boy-Who-Lived dragged himself through the corridors, he looked to his right, expecting flaming-red hair and a lop-sided grin. He got neither, for Ron had died last year after saving him from a fatal curse. Harry looked to his left, expecting to see bushy hair and arms weighed down by heavy books. He got neither, for Hermione had died three months ago after saving Harry from a fatal curse. There's a pattern, he thought. The people that he allowed himself to love always died because of his faults: his negligence, his weakness...

The hustle of other seventh years brought him slowly out of his trance as they raced towards their destination.

'Must be time for potions,' he reasoned idly, but he made no move to go. He'd stopped going to classes when he figured that Voldermort would probably end his life before he even had a chance to use what he'd learned. The professors had tried to force him to attend, but even Dumbledore's kind words didn't sway him from his decision.

He continued to walk to his nonexistent destination, but stopped when he heard footsteps behind him. Harry smirked humorlessly. He knew even without turning who those footsteps belonged to. Draco Malfoy was the epitome of grace. Even his footfalls seemed to sound with soft, elegant echoes. Those echoes now pounded on his eardrums, bringing back memories of passionate kisses and breathless gasps of pleasure. Harry quickly pushed those thoughts away. That Harry-and-Draco-forever courtship was part of another lifetime, one that he could not bring himself to relive.

Draco stopped in front of Harry, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Harry." It was not much of a greeting, but then again, they were never much for words.

"Draco," he returned, his voice low and raspy. He wondered for a second why that happened, but then quickly remembered that he hadn't spoken a word in over a week.

For once in his life, Draco seemed uncomfortable and shifted slightly on one foot. Harry almost called him on this, but didn't because he didn't do things like that anymore, not in this abysmal lifetime. The blonde opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Embarrassed, he cleared his voice and tried again. This time, he succeeded.

"The battle," he began mutedly. "Dumbledore told- it's soon, isn't it, Harry?"

"Soon," the young man echoed. Draco stared at him through intense, gray eyes. The brunette blinked and turned away. He couldn't look into them, not when they brought back memories of a time that he couldn't bring himself to remember. Instead, he opted to stare at the top of his former lover's head.

"He told me that you found a new way to destroy Voldermort...an easier way."

Harry wondered if he should respond to that statement. After hesitating for a moment, he nodded his head.

"Yes."

"You w-won't do that, will you?" Draco was getting flustered, stumbling awkwardly through his words. He hated the fact that Harry could make him lose all of his Malfoy qualities just by being in his presence.

"Maybe."

"You can't."

"It would stop all of this fighting."

"Do you honestly think that by going kamikaze, you're going to stop all those people from dying?" Draco snapped harshly. He took a breath to calm himself down. "The fighting's already begun, Harry. Those people are going to die whether or not you decide to let Voldermort kill you. What if he knows, Harry? About this soul-link? He could use it against you. Maybe he's found a way to sever it so that only you will die. And even if he did die, what makes you think this will all stop? His death eaters are loyal, Harry. I would know."

"It's a surefire way, Malfoy." Draco cringed at the use of his last name. "I don't know if I can kill him. This way, at least I can be sure of his destruction."

"I don't unders-- why couldn't you do it here? With those who love you?" It wasn't that Draco was encouraging this idea of his, but if he could convince Harry to stay, then perhaps he could stop him from doing this. "He'd die either way, wouldn't he?" Harry raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to one side as though he had just been asked the stupidest question.

"Everybody wants their hero to die in the most exquisite way, Draco," he retorted bitterly. "It wouldn't make very good headlines if I just passed away in my bed, now would it?" Defeated, the blonde-haired boy bowed his head and sighed tiredly.

"Just...consider coming back to me, Harry. Come back to the 'us' that could have been and still can be."

Harry's face set into a mask of stoicism as his emerald orbs finally met deep, silver pools. There was nothing between them for a moment but a stifling silence that threatened to swallow the pair whole.

"I make no promises, Draco," he said finally, his voice devoid of any emotion, "for we both know I never keep them." Without another word, The-Boy-Who-Lived turned on his heel and left behind the one who still held his heart.

* * *

This was it, the moment written in books and told in prophecies. Strange how anti-climatic it all seemed. Harry was well aware that this duel decided the fate of the entire wizarding world. He, however, could not bring himself to care. The young man stood heavily on one leg, the other having been broken in battle.

"Really, Potter, you're making this too easy. Even that mudblood mother of yours put up more of a fight than this." Those words were spit out full of venom in hopes of getting a rise of out the victim. Harry would have shrugged, but in all honestly, he didn't even care enough to do that. He was drained, emotionally, mentally, physically...nothing seemed to matter anymore.

The Dark Lord sighed and pointed his wand lazily towards the famous scar.

"Very well, Potter. Granted this victory isn't as potent as I'd like it to be, but nonetheless, a victory is a victory." He raised his wand and opened his mouth to utter the spell that would end it all. Harry closed his eyes and waited for it to come. Finally, he thought almost happily, it was over. He'd finally be free. Free to be with those he loved once again.

"Avada Kedavra." There was no pain. It was almost as though the spell didn't touch him. The boy slowly opened his eyes to take in the surroundings of his afterlife, but saw nothing but dead bodies on a field, Voldermort's included.

"Great," he said wryly. "I'm in hell. Figures."

"You're not in hell, Potter, although this place comes close, doesn't it?" Draco's drawl was slow and deliberate, masking the storm of emotions he felt underneath. The blonde slowly put his wand back into his obviously expensive dragon-hide belt. Harry blinked once, twice. He sighed despairingly and spun around to limp away, never breathing a word.

"I save your life and you just walk away?" Harry stopped on his tracks and painfully turned to face his former lover.

"I never asked you to save me, Draco. You should have just let it happen."

"Gods, do you really see yourself as being so easily expendable?" Draco's voice rose with every word that came out of his mouth.

"It shouldn't matter, Draco," Harry smirked. "Congratulations, you just saved the wizarding world. Who would've thought that it was this easy?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fuck the wizarding world. This is about you. You didn't even try! You gave up!"

"Why should I have tried to do anything? We both know that I came out here today with every intention of dying." His voice was so casual, almost as if he was talking about the weather.

"It wouldn't have worked," the shorter wizard mumbled softly. "Voldermort found out about the spell and disabled it. That's the reason you didn't die when I killed him." Harry's eyebrow quirked up in realization.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't think about that. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Don't you even care about me anymore?" Draco screamed, the walls he put up around his heart completely disintegrating. "You act like there's nothing keeping you here. What about me, you fucking wanker? What about me?" He was coming so close to crying that it was becoming embarrassing.

Harry let emotion come back to him for a moment and his expression softened.

"You don't want me, Draco," he said softly. "I don't even know how to love you, not anymore. Nothing's the same. I'm not the same." The Boy Who Lived began hobbling once more away from the field he never wanted to see again.

"Couldn't I convince you to stay?" the smaller boy asked, his voice wavering slightly. Harry's eyes connected with the Slytherin's and he smiled; albeit a weak one, but a smile nonetheless.

"No." There was no malice in the response, but the finality of it screamed at Draco's very soul. He watched his former lover increase the distance between them and couldn't help but utter one last phrase.

"I love you, Harry." The other man didn't turn around, but Draco knew he heard and he could almost hear him whisper back to him.

"Once, Draco. Once, I loved you, too."