The Last Light Of The Sun

Author's notes.

This is the sequel to The Sweetest Goodbye, just so you know but it can stand on it's own.

A really, really big thanks to my lovely betas, you know who you are...I hope. And to my wondrous friends for hounding me to finish this. Thanks guys!!

ENJOY!

The Last Light Of The Sun.

Harry fell to his knees, clutching his chest. Oh god! He couldn't breathe. He knew he needed to get up, he needed to defend himself but... his mind had gone blank and he could do nothing but try to get some air in to his lungs.

A shadowed figure watched from the sidelines as the shuddering body of Harry Potter struggled to breathe. The spell was designed to distract and disarm the enemy, not to kill and so it would wear out before the victim actually died. Voldemort's sense of irony had made him decide to finish off his arch nemesis with the same curse that had failed to kill him all those years ago.

At the centre of the room, Voldemort stood, lips curled in a smirk of pure satisfaction. Finally after so many years of suffering this imbecile's existence, today, this was the moment when his dominion over the world would begin. He raised his wand.

"Farewell, Potter."

Still shuddering for breath, Harry looked up. His face was covered with sweat and his eyes were blurring but he saw Voldemort's wand clear enough.

So this was it, he was going to die. His mind was peacefully blank despite, or maybe because of, the lack of air. Then a memory of silver, light and laughter flickered in his mind. He held on to it, he wasn't going to die despairing over his life but rejoicing in it. Holding his love in his mind, Harry looked up in to Voldemort's red eyes and smiled.

Voldemort frowned, angered by Potter's lack of fear. He had expected Potter to do a great many number of things at this moment, cry, beg, faint - but smiling...a smile filled with utter love was the last thing he expected. Putting it down to the mind snapping at the face of death, Voldemort spoke the final curse.

"Avada Ked-"

Harry saw a bright beam of red hit Voldemort's back and wondered where it came from. The spell didn't seem to have the desired effect on the Dark Lord as he only staggered a few steps forward. But Harry saw Voldemort whirl around, the killing curse forgotten. Between his desperate gasps for breath, Harry heard Voldemort's roar of anger and surprise and saw him shoot a bright purple beam at the shadows.

As Harry watched the duel unfold between Voldemort and a hooded figure that looked suspiciously like a Death Eater, the curse began to wear off. The presence of oxygen in his lungs allowed him to wonder who was stupid enough, beside himself, to take on the Dark Lord on his own.

After breathing normally for sometime it occurred to Harry that perhaps he should try to help the hooded figure who had saved his life, as it seemed that Voldemort was coming close to victory. He had just gotten to his knees when he heard the defiant shout-

"Because I love him."

-And the brightest beam of gold erupted from the hooded figure's wand. The golden fire enveloped Voldemort, and Harry, who was shocked on to his feet by the voice, met the eyes of its owner.

He'd know those eyes anywhere.

Draco.

--

Harry propped his head on his hand and watched his lover sleep. So beautiful. He reached out with his other hand and touched a strand of silver- gold hair. I love you so much. He trailed his fingers down Draco's face. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. Then Draco's eyes flickered and opened. Feeling Harry's fingers on his face, Draco looked at him and smiled.

"Hey."

Harry leaned in and kissed Draco's forehead. At moments like this Harry did not regret his life, he did not regret what had happened to bring him to this place, to this person. Because here in Draco's arms he felt at home and here, seeing Draco's smile he knew happiness and looking in to Draco's eyes he knew love.

Watching Harry's struggle to breathe, Draco knew that unless he did something Harry would die. That was why, knowing that after the numerous protective spells his spell would have no effect on Voldemort, he still cursed him. If only to delay Harry's death a little while longer.

He had also known that he was not strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord but he was hoping that he was strong enough to keep him occupied while Harry regained his balance.

Keeping Voldemort's vicious attacks at bay had been enough but then the Dark Lord had started whispering in his mind, the Dark Mark allowing the Dark Lord access to the conscious level of Draco's mind. The first whispers had been angry as Draco's defiance had rocked him. Then they were mocking because Voldemort knew he would win this battle. But he had been curious, 'Why be so foolish? Why choose death?'

At that Draco had snapped. Enough was enough. Perhaps it was time Voldemort knew that his most trusted follower was beloved of his arch nemesis, that if Draco had ever let down his guard, Voldemort would have discovered that he had had the key to Harry Potter's destruction in the palm of his hand for months. Perhaps he would have discovered that despite all the oaths he had taken, the only person Draco would ever lay down his life for was Harry Potter. Perhaps he would have realised that all these came from a one singular reason. Draco Malfoy loved Harry Potter.

"Because I love him." It was truly the most simple and truthful answer.

What he had felt at that moment, saying those words for the world to hear, had worked its way in to his magic, changing his spell, turning it in to something he had never experienced. As he watched the golden fire engulf Voldemort, he saw the figure standing behind the bright inferno. He saw the beautiful green eyes of the one he craved for.

Harry.

--

"I've got something for you," Harry said. Draco looked up.

"What?"

Harry smiled nervously and bought up the gift he had been hiding behind his back. Draco's eyes widened.

"Oh!"

It was a white rose. It was pure and absolutely white and in perfect bloom. Harry shifted nervously.

"Do you...do you like it? I didn't know whether you'd...I've never...I'm sorry if you don't like it," Harry finished in a rush.

"It's perfect," Draco breathed. Harry beamed.

"I wanted to get you something you wouldn't get for yourself."

"Harry..." Draco whispered. He was suddenly very afraid. What if Harry had changed? What if he hated Draco for joining the Death Eaters? What if he didn't understand?

Harry saw Draco whisper his name and saw the uncertainty in those beloved grey eyes. He understood and smiled.

Then the golden fire surrounding the Dark Lord began to dissipate. Voldemort was hunched, gasping for breath. Defeating an unknown spell, wrought with love, which he despised, had taken every bit of his knowledge and endurance. As he stood he saw the two figures on either side of him. His eyes narrowed.

So this is how it was.

As the final swirls of gold disappeared, there were three shouts of Avada Kedavra revibrating through the domed hall.

Draco, seeing the anger burning in the eyes of the Dark Lord, and not wanting Harry to suffer because of it, had spoken the first spell that came to his mind.

"Avada Kedavra."

Harry, knowing the danger Draco was in, had also shouted the first spell to come in to his mind. If not to kill then to distract the Dark Lord, anything to keep Draco safe.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort fixed on vengeance, had poured all his anger in to the one spell he relished using.

"Avada Kedavra."

Both Harry's and Draco's spells found Voldemort at the same time and Draco saw him crumple to the ground. But all his attention was focused on the distant figure of Harry.

Harry who, understanding his fate, lifted his eyes and looked at Draco, a silent goodbye etched in to those beautiful emerald eyes.

Draco apparated at Harry's side just as the curse hit him. He put his arms around Harry, catching him as he fell.

When the Death Eaters battling outside felt the death of their Lord, they lay down their wands and surrendered, hoping for mercy from their enemies.

The soldiers of light, seeing their enemies surrender, rejoiced. It was over.

Harry Potter had saved them all.

Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and other surviving members of the Order of Phoenix, although sporting countless wounds themselves, went in search of their saviour. Joy and fear mingled as the death of Voldemort may have meant the death of Harry as well.

They first came upon the body of Voldemort, red eyes staring but seeing nothing of the mortal world. They stood in silence, each trying to come to terms with a world without the shadow of Voldemort.

Beyond Voldemort they found Harry, lying on the ground, his face pale and eyes closed though none missed the gentle sense of peace they saw on his face.

Next to Harry they found...Draco Malfoy. He was curled up on his side, holding Harry's hand to his heart, grey eyes staring.

With a small cry Hermione ran to Harry's side, Ron following closely behind.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, touching his face.

Tears running down her face, she felt his pulse, finding none she turned to Ron and hid her face in his chest, who in turn wrapped his arms around her, his tears soaking in to her hair as he tried to comprehend his future without his best friend.

People crowded the benches of the courtroom, all awaiting the fate of a famed Death Eater, one that was connected to the death of Harry Potter. Countless torches adorned the darkened walls but the room was still emersed in shadow. All the attention was focused on the figure standing in the centre of the room, head bowed, silver- blond hair glinting in the torchlight.

Draco stood, bound in heavy chains and flanked by two figures in black. He did not hear what the Wizengamot was saying, all he could see was Harry smiling at him and then falling in a burst of green light. His Harry. His Harry who hadn't opened his eyes when Draco begged him, when Draco cried and screamed and pleaded. His Harry was dead. And Draco was alive. He didn't want to be. All he wanted was to be where Harry was, not here where everyone hated him and thought he had hurt Harry. He almost laughed. He would die a thousand deaths to have Harry alive.

Although he didn't answer any of their questions, the Wizengamot proceeded with the trial using witnesses from Draco's death eater days as well as the testimonies of those who had found him that day.

"Those of the council who find Mr Malfoy guilty of being a Death Eater, please raise your hands," the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour called.

All of those present at the trial raised their hands. The Minister looked around the room and nodded and looked back down at the parchment.

"Those of the council who find Mr Malfoy guilty of engaging in Death Eater activities including the torture and murder of Muggles, please raise your hands," the Minister called.

Again everyone present raised their hands.

"Finally, those who find Mr Malfoy guilty of being an accessory to the murder of Harry Potter please do raise your hands."

There was a small hesitation but again everyone raised their hands. Draco Malfoy had been Voldemort's second, they couldn't believe he would have done anything but, even after the witnesses report.

Dean Thomas moved to take Harry's hand out of Malfoy's grasp, but Draco held on, growling low in his throat. Dean sprang back.

"He's alive."

Everyone present immediately drew their wands, even Ron and Hermione whose tear stained faces set hard at the threat.

"Let go of Harry's hand Malfoy." No response. Ron's face tightened.

"You have ten seconds to let go of his hand you filthy Death Eater."

Draco curled tightly around Harry's hand, squeezing his eyes shut. Admirably Ron did count to ten before hexing Draco in a low and harsh, "Stupefy."

Dean tried to pry open Draco's fingers and found that despite being stunned Draco still had a tight grip on Harry's pale hand. After finally managing to free Harry's hand, Dean gently placed it at Harry's side, a sad sigh escaping him as he did it. Then he looked back at Draco, whose pale face mirrored that of Harry's own.

"There are tears on his face," he said, seeing the wet trails across Draco's face. He looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"He's been crying."

"Mr Malfoy," Rufus Scrimgeour called. There was no response from the blond as he continued to stare at the floor.

"Mr Malfoy," he called, louder. Draco blinked and looked up.

"Mr Malfoy the Wizengamot has come to a decision. We find you guilty on all charges and therefore sentence you to death in a week's time."

If he expected a reaction from Draco Malfoy, then he was severely disappointed.

Hermione Granger held a very important post at the Ministry and therefore had a major role in rebuilding the wizarding world after the war. Being busy helped her to keep her mind off Malfoy, waiting for death in Azkaban. She wasn't sorry that he was to die but...the feel of tears on his face that day still lingered in her mind.

Draco waited. His cell in Azkaban was small and dirty. He didn't care. He missed Harry. It was close to six months since they left Hogwarts and he hadn't seen Harry in all that time. Except for that day. If he could choose between that day and never seeing Harry again, he would choose the latter. At least then Harry would be alive.

...green eyes locked on him and Harry smiled, vanquishing all Draco's demons.

He remembered all those nights he spent, awake, craving for Harry. For Harry just to be there and hold him and kiss him and mess up his hair. But all those months he had been safe in the knowledge that Harry was somewhere, alive and well. He had done all he could to keep it that way sometimes evoking the Dark Lord's wrath.

But now...Harry would never chase him around the room to try to get to his hair, he would never smile that excruciatingly innocent smile of his that always managed to melt Draco's walls. Draco felt tears stinging his eyes and wiped them away fiercely. He had already cried three times in his life and he didn't want to make a habit of it. He sighed sadly as he realised that two out of those three times had been for Harry.

--

As Harry fell, Draco fell with him. He sat next to Harry, trying so hard not to understand why Harry was so pale, why he was so cold. Draco clutched the material of Harry's robes, breathing harshly.

"I love you so much. So much Harry. I know I never told you that and I'm sorry. I should have told you. Everyday. I should have. Harry please...wake up."

He lifted Harry's cold hand to his lips and tasted his own tears as he kissed it.

But Harry did not wake. His skin stayed cold. His eyes remained shut and all of Draco's pleas and kisses went unanswered.

Hermione turned the key and opened the door. She stood in the doorway and looked in to the room. The bed stood next to the window, its red and gold covers glinting softly in the afternoon sun. Harry's room. She had come because... because this day marked a week from Malfoy's trial and even though he was her enemy, they still went to school together and she didn't want to think, to know that Malfoy's life would be extinguished with the last light of the sun. So she had come here, to Grimmauld place where Harry had spent the last few months, training and waiting for war. Maybe she could...clean his room.

Maybe.

She went to his table, it was littered with pieces of parchment, most were decorated with Harry's incomprehensible art. Drawings that made sense to no one but Harry. There were books too, some opened to the page Harry was had been reading last. They had been researching for new spells that would help them with the war. She brushed the pages with her fingertips. Harry had been here, reading this book, he had touched this page, sat on this chair. She felt the tears stinging her eyes as she sensed Harry's presence all around her. Seeing Harry's photo album she picked it up and sat down on Harry's bed. This was the same album Hagrid had given to Harry in first year and she couldn't remember the last time she saw it.

Draco watched the sunlight playing on the silver spider webs in his cell. It was almost time, just a few more hours. He wondered why he wasn't afraid, even Voldemort had been afraid of death. But then Voldemort hadn't been entirely sane. He wondered if he was. It didn't matter.

I'll keep you to my heart and you'll stay with me until I die...

He wasn't afraid.

...maybe beyond that.

There was a photo of Harry in his Quiddich uniform, taken just before his first match. His face was white but his eyes were calm as he smiled and waved at the camera. There was one of all three of them, taken after the end of the first task at the Tri wizard tournament in fourth year. Hermione sighed as she saw a photo of Harry and Sirius together. They looked so happy. Sirius had died that year. Although Harry had handled it exceptionally well, Hermione felt a pang of grief for her friend. It wasn't fair that Harry had lost so many people close to him.

Hermione turned the page and gasped in shock. It was a photo of Draco Malfoy. It was a Draco Malfoy she had never seen before. She had to blink a few times to make sure it was the same person she remembered from Hogwarts. Malfoy was sitting on a green velvet couch, his feet up, holding a book in his lap. He was looking at the camera with his head slightly tilted to the right. But it was the expression on his face that startled Hermione the most. There was no malice, no calculating sneer, instead he was smiling gently at whoever was holding the camera with an expression close to joy.

But what was a photo of Malfoy, a happy, smiling Malfoy, doing in Harry's album. She knew about the potions tutoring but had they come so close that Harry had a photo of him. Mind still reeling, she turned the page. And again she gasped in shock.

The photo had been taken atop one of the Hogwarts towers on a beautiful day with blue sky and sun. There they stood. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Draco had his arms wrapped around Harry's neck and was looking at him with a look of such peace and - she could find no other word for it... love. She couldn't help but see his beauty.

And Harry. Harry had one arm around Draco and the other was playing with his silver- blond locks. On his face was a look of immense adoration, which made her feel that it was almost okay that it was Malfoy who made Harry this happy.

Then as she watched, Draco suddenly laughed and leaned forward and Hermione closed the album. She didn't want to see anymore. This did not make any sense. Then she realised, this did make sense. This single photo explained and connected things she hadn't been able to understand. This explained why Harry had been so withdrawn and melancholy after he left Hogwarts even when everyone he loved was there with him, it explained why Harry never said a word against Malfoy even in the most difficult situations. It explained the tears on Malfoy's face and his lack of resistance to ...everything after Harry's death. But she had to be sure, she had to know. She glanced down at he watch, just an hour before sunset. She had to hurry.

Draco contemplated his life. It hadn't been very long, after all he was only 18 but he thought...no he knew that he had been through more in his short life than most people did in their whole eighty or ninety year old life spans. His school years seemed like a far away dream after the grim reality of war. Except...except for his seventh year. His time with Harry, that magical time when he had bound himself to this one person, absolutely and completely, was vivid in his mind. He remembered every single word Harry had said to him.

Every. Single. Word.

And then Harry had left and his dream was over. But his love wasn't. So he had joined the Death Eaters. He hadn't wanted to be a Death Eater, not really. But he had done it anyway. For Harry. To help him in anyway that he could. He couldn't be a spy, not after Severus Snape, and also he was a Malfoy and Malfoys did not play both sides. Not really.

So he'd done it but despite his best attempts, Draco had failed and Harry had died.

You are the only one I have loved ever so much that I actually know I have to let go of.

Draco sat up in surprise as he realised that Hermione Granger was suddenly outside his cell trying to get his attention.

"Malfoy!!"

He stared at Granger, wondering what had bought her here.

"I saw Harry's photo album," she said, almost in a rush. Draco almost laughed. So she knew. He tilted his head to the right, waiting to see if she would actually say it.

"Were...were you together?"

This time Draco did laugh. She couldn't even say it, and Harry had wanted to tell them at school.

--

"They are my friends. I want them to know about you."

"They don't need to know about me. I'm perfectly happy with them not knowing."

"I love you. I want them to know that."

"And how do you think they'll take it? Do you think they'll love me just because you do? Will they welcome me with open arms and smiles? No, they won't. Do you know why? Because I am Draco Malfoy and they hate me. And if you tell them about us, they'll just think I've forced you and try to kill me instead of this silent hate thing we have now."

"Draco..."

"Harry...please...let's keep this between us for now. I've just found you and I don't want to lose you if your friends decide I'm no good for you."

"You won't lose me. Ever."

--

"He wanted you to know," Draco said, after a few amusing minutes of watching Granger squirm.

Her eyes snapped up to his at the sound of his voice.

"What did he want me to know?"

Draco wondered how she would take it.

"About him and me."

Instead of fainting dead away, Hermione stood standing, severely disappointing Draco.

"You were lovers?"

Draco smiled, not a true smile but a smile nonetheless, and nodded.

Hermione's mind flickered back to Harry's photo album and wondered when Malfoy had last smiled with such joy as she had seen in those photos.

"You loved him?"

Draco's smile died. "Love. I love him. It's a fact that doesn't change just because he's dead."

"Did he love you?"

Draco searched her eyes and wondered what she was thinking. He nodded.

"How do you know? Maybe he lied to you," Hermione said, watching Draco carefully.

"I don't know about you but the Harry I knew was totally incapable of lying," he replied. Hermione closed her eyes, clutching the bars of the cell.

"I know," she whispered. She suddenly opened her eyes as she felt someone approach. She turned and saw the guards. She didn't understand why she suddenly felt so scared and cold. They were not even dementors. She looked back at Malfoy who looked back at her, totally calm and unperturbed. And then the guards were opening the cell and there was Malfoy, looking so small and pale between the guards.

"They can't kill you. They can't," she cried, stepping in front of Malfoy. Draco smiled.

"Why? Does loving Harry Potter make me less of a Death Eater? A Muggle killer?"

"But..." she began but before she could continue, Draco sprang forward and grabbed her robes.

"Don't you try to save me. Don't you fucking try. I need to die. I want...to die. Don't save me." And then he was lost in a sea of black as the guards pulled him back, his pale face composed as if that outburst had never happened. As they led him away, Hermione could have sworn he whispered.

"I've already been saved."

Draco knelt on the cold, stone floor. A masked man stood a few feet away. Draco felt a distant sense of amusement at the irony.

Draco stared past the man, past the wall in to a pair of green eyes and felt safe as a pair of strong arms held him close.

I will never leave you.

It was time for him to return to his dream.

He did not see the flash of green light and he did not know that Hermione Granger watched the sunset on the roof, her tears shining in the last golden light. All Draco knew, all he saw, was Harry's smile, guiding him home.

As the curse shattered across his heart and his body collapsed, Draco intertwined his fingers with Harry's and together they walked. Not into heaven nor in to hell but in to eternity.

The End.

Author's notes.

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