Like No Tomorrow

Draco knew it was happening.

He could hear it; faint whispers in the musty air, the voices lingering inside his head, always a little too far away to reach…

He saw it every time he opened his eyes, and the picture was printed on the back of his eyelids, his dreams ridden with the painful awareness, always turning into nightmares. Nightmares that brought images of Harry, emptiness and panic…

He always woke up gasping, pressed against the wall and tangled in his bedclothes.

He wanted it to end, he really did, but the awful sinking feeling would never leave him. He tried not to fall asleep; to stay awake and just listen to the crickets chirping outside at night, devoid of all thoughts, but always his fatigue won and he had to give in to the merciless cold of not being able to control his feelings.

Draco really wanted it to stop, but in a way he always dreaded his dreams with anticipation, because that was his only way of hearing Harry speak again…

Let me go…

No matter how harsh his words were.

Days flew past, and Draco no longer cared how long it had been since it had started. The nightmares had stopped, making way for echoing silence, and Draco felt as though he was trapped inside his own head.

He felt as though he was going insane. But wasn't he already? Draco decided that it didn't matter, and that he didn't make any sense, but that didn't matter either.

Let go…

He really tried.

Then, one day, he started hearing odd sounds, drifting through the door and window. He chuckled a bit, because he was sure that was a sign that he'd lost it, but then the noises magnified and the building shook, and he thought that maybe he was, in fact, still sane and something was actually happening.

So, as he could do nothing else, he sat down and waited. And waited.

***

“Harry!” Hermione breathed heavily. “Where are you going?”

Harry ignored her inquiries and continued his stride forwards. He knew that Draco must be somewhere close… Where else could he be?

But, what if Harry couldn't find him? What if he was hidden, had fled or… or was dead? Harry quickly thought about something else, and continued surveying the surroundings. Surely he had to find Draco.

Over a week ago, he had found out that Draco had been a spy. Dumbledore had told him. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness inside himself, knowing that all his life the old headmaster had been keeping back information from Harry. Things he should've known in the first place. Things that would've made everything hurt so much less.

Harry walked through the building, jumping over the rubble and the occasional body. Whether Death Eater or a member of his side, he didn't bother to check. The walls bore charred cursemarks, and blood was splattered in many places… Harry felt vague satisfaction about the fact that it was now over, for good. Lord Voldemort was gone, the Death Eaters scattered and outnumbered. The war was over. Harry sighed and continued his search.

As he was walking along a hallway, he passed a large, mahogany door - nothing significant about it. He paid it no more than a sideways glance. After a few steps, however, he stopped abruptly and walked back to it. He'd noticed that there was a visible locking charm on it; the hinges shone dimly in deep red. He stood there for a while, contemplating, but then proceeded to remove the charm. It was a complex one, but before long, he had it solved and the door opened slightly. Harry pushed the door open all the way.

Harry wasn't really prepared for what was to come. He had thought about it for months, ever since Draco and he had parted, but he really hadn't prepared for it. But there it was. Draco was lying on the floor, dressed in Death Eater robes, sleeping peacefully.

Harry had expected something else.

“Draco..?” he whispered, as though he didn't believe it was really him.

“Mmmhh…” Draco muttered something in his sleep, and turned a little, allowing Harry a view of his face. Draco's face was drenched in sweat and Harry knew at that moment that something wasn't right.

He ran to the twitching body of Draco and knelt beside him. “Draco!” He shook the blond's shoulders. “Wake up, Draco!”

Slowly, the Slytherin's eyelids fluttered open. “Mm… Harry?” he mumbled drowsily, his eyes wandering on Harry's face.

“Draco!” A smile brightened Harry's face.

“So it's you, again… Is this the one where you die, or the one where you just leave… I wonder…” Draco trailed off, tonelessly.

Harry frowned. Something was definitely not right. “Draco, what's wrong?”

“So you aren't leaving?” Draco's voice sounded strangled.

“No, Draco, come on, we have to get you out of here,” Harry said urgently. At first, he had been a little disappointed that their reunion had been so wan, but now he was scared.

“Please don't tease me like that,” Draco said quietly and lifted himself to a sitting position.

“Draco, we have to go! You aren't well,” said Harry as he bent forwards to lift Draco up by his armpits but, taking Harry by surprise, Draco bowed his head and kissed Harry feverishly. Harry couldn't bring himself to stop the kiss, for several reasons. Draco seemed to crave it so, and Harry… it had been so long since he had even so much as seen Draco in person, much less touched him, that now, when they finally were able to so much as kiss… the memories exploded in Harry's mind, bringing back the ecstatic, hazy feeling he always got when he kissed Draco, that he just couldn't stop it. For a moment, Harry let go of everything except Draco kissing him, Draco embracing him, Draco's tongue on his lower lip, caressing Harry's…

Harry suddenly remembered why he was there, and how Draco had looked … his heart gave a painful twinge as he pushed Draco gently off. Draco gave a small whimper of protest. “Harry… don't go… just… don't leave again… please…” He looked at Harry with cloudy eyes, lacking the steely glint that was so beautiful in its own way, in Harry's mind, and passed out.

“Draco?” Harry said, frowning. “Draco?” Quickly, he gathered Draco in his arms and stood up, carrying the lithe young man rather easily, but the worry making him feel vaguely sick. He didn't care if everyone looked at him oddly when he left the building. He'd forgotten that no one knew about them. All that mattered to him was getting Draco out of there. To anywhere.

He exited the room into the hallway, and didn't bother to look around for any Death Eaters that might still be alive.

He was walking fast across the halls, along the corridors, past the same doors he'd passed earlier… and then, out of the blue, he heard a strange voice.

“He's dying.”

Harry stopped and swivelled his head around. It was Nagini, Voldemort's pet snake. Harry's mind filled with blinding rage, before he realised what she'd said. He's dying… Did she mean Draco?

“What do you mean?” Harry hissed at the snake.

“You love him.”

“What do you know?”

“I do. And he's dying.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw them poison him.”

“Poison…?”

“Yes. There is no antidote.”

Harry looked at Nagini with wide eyes, and then at Draco. “I don't believe you. He can't be dying.”

“He is.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I have nothing to lose in telling you the truth. I'm not on a dead man's side.”

Harry looked at her uncertainly, not knowing what to do. “So… there's no cure?”

Nagini's head swayed. “I can help you.”

“You can? How?” Harry frowned.

“If I promise to help you, will you not kill me?”

Something in Nagini's eyes, though solid black they were, made Harry believe her. He felt Draco's breath shallow. “Yes,” Harry said. “I promise.”

“And you promise to tell the others not to kill me?”

“I promise.”

“Lay the boy on the ground.”

Harry became suspicious in the blink of an eye, painfully aware of the unconscious Draco in his arms. “Why?”

“Just do it. You'll see.”

“…All right…” Harry knelt and placed Draco gently on the ground.

“Back away.” Nagini slithered closer. Harry did as she said. “And remember your promise.” Then, she tensed her body in a graceful arc and dove quickly, sinking her teeth into Draco's shoulder so fast that Harry didn't have the time to register what was happening until after the actual event. Draco groaned loudly. Blood started flowing from the cuts. Harry stared at Nagini, then at Draco's pale face, screwed up in pain.

“You… what… I'll…”

“You promised not to kill me. Remember your promise. I remembered mine. Now, go, you don't have much time.”

Harry stared wildly at the snake for a while longer, before nodding feebly and picking Draco up again. He practically ran from the manor.

***

“Harry! Finally! Where've you been?” Ron staggered to him as he exited the building. “You know it's not safe there, the place could've collapsed…” Then, the redhead noticed Draco. “What the – Harry, why are you carrying Malfoy? What's happened? Did you kill him?” The last question came with such harsh curiosity that Harry just glared at Ron.

“I'm fine, Ron. Just one thing. Don't kill the snake, no matter what. Got it?” he said urgently, ignoring Ron's questioning glances at Draco.

“A—all right, Harry,” he said and Harry hurried off to find Hermione.

“Hermione!” he shouted from a distance when he finally spotted the bushy-haired witch.

“Harry, thank Merlin you're back, what… What?” Hermione's eyes widened as they met Draco's unconscious form.

“I have no time to explain, Hermione, but I need a portkey to St. Mungo's, and quick.”

“Right, Harry,” Hermione said and nodded gravely obviously realising the situation. She grabbed a torn piece of clothing and, pointing her wand at it, muttered “Portus”. The shred glowed blue for a moment before the light died out. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Harry said and smiled at her, before placing the cloth so that it touched both him and Draco. After a few moments, Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel as they started speeding towards St. Mungo's in a blur of colour.

***

Harry sat by Draco's bedside every single day. He shrugged off everyone's company silently and apparated to St. Mungo's. He never talked with the personnel, except for the Healer-in-charge occasionally.

Every single day, Harry replaced the flowers on Draco's bedside table with new ones, and the Healers wondered why they never saw them blooming.

Sometimes Harry stayed overnight. He just sat there, looking at the unmoving form of Draco for so long that he would drift off to sleep eventually. At first, the workers woke him up and sent him home, but once it started happening more often they let him be. Sometimes, in the night, the cleaner saw the flowers blooming.

Harry had learned that the poison the Death Eaters had given Draco had been about to kill him, but once Nagini had bitten him, her venom had taken over and mixed with the pre-existing poison, fighting over for control. If Nagini's idea worked, the poisons would eventually neutralise each other. The Healers knew no other option than to wait for Draco's coma to pass.

So Harry waited.

Sometimes, when he went back to the others and entered the room, the conversation suddenly died out, leaving Harry with the uncomfortable feeling that they'd been talking about him. Occasionally, Hermione would come to him and ask if he was all right, if anything was wrong and if she could help him somehow. Harry always smiled and laughed, answering with a “no, nothing's wrong, nothing at all.”

And soon Hermione stopped inquiring, but continued to eye him worriedly. Harry didn't really care.

One day, Harry was again sitting by Draco's side. He was staring at Draco's eyelashes, willing his eyes to open. It was no surprise, at first, that they did. Harry just thought that he had merely slipped off to sleep again. He blinked and, when he realised that he was, indeed, very awake, he almost fell off his chair.

“Draco?” he asked feverishly, voice full of emotion.

“Mmm… Harry… Harry?” Draco's eyes widened in surprise as he realised who the person was sitting next to him.

“Draco…” Harry whispered and touched Draco's cheek, as though to feel if he was real.

“God, Harry, it really is you… you have no idea…”

“Draco… you know what?” Harry cut Draco off, smiling in enormous relief.

“What?”

“You talk too much.” And with that, Harry closed the distance between them and kissed Draco gently. To his surprise, he felt wetness on his cheek and pulled away. “Draco, what's wrong?”

Draco wiped his eyes on the bed sheets, as though angry at himself for showing such weakness. “Harry… you have no idea… I've missed you so much,” he muttered, not looking at Harry.

Harry took his chin in his hand, tilting his head so that their eyes met. “I've missed you so much,” he said slowly, “that I would've gone to the edge of the universe and back, killed a thousand Dark Lords and given both my arms just to talk to you once more,” he said earnestly. Draco's eyes glimmered.

Draco chuckled a bit. “But then I couldn't have anymore fun with your arms, like I used to!”

“Draco!” Harry smacked the blond's arm. “I'm trying to be serious!”

“I know, Harry. I know,” Draco said quietly.

“…Why did they do that to you?” Harry asked quietly.

“What?” Draco asked confusedly.

“The poisoning.”

“Oh, that.” Draco's voice broke a little. “They found out that I had been a spy… and they wanted to get rid of me,” he said. “What happened, anyway? Fa—Lucius said that the poison was fatal.”

Harry smiled a lopsided smile. “It was Nagini that saved you.”

“What?” Draco said incredulously. “How?”

“She bit you.”

Draco just looked blankly at Harry for a while, before understanding dawned on him. “Oh. I see.”

Harry gazed at Draco uncertainly for a while. “If you were imprisoned, how were you able to send me that letter?”

Draco turned his head away, staring into distance. “It was just… was my Mother killed?”

“…Yes, Draco. But she knew what she was doing, I'm sure of that.”

Draco bent his neck, lowering his face. “The night after my imprisonment, Mother came to me and gave me a small owl and a piece of parchment. She told me to write to the one I loved most… I think she knew about us, Harry. And she knew that I was going to die.”

Harry frowned slightly and gazed at Draco.

“She said that the parchment was charmed so that I couldn't reveal where I was, or what had been done to me. Not that I would've told you, anyway.” Draco chuckled bitterly. “She said that she'd make sure that the owl'd reach its destination.” Draco looked straight into Harry's eyes. “I assume Mother kept her promise.” Draco's grey eyes were shining.

“But… I wrote back!” said Harry, bemusedly.

“You did?” Draco frowned.

“Yeah…” Harry lowered his gaze. “You didn't get it?”

“No, I didn't… I guess they had some sort of wards around the Manor, to prevent anything suspicious from entering. Or that they just intercepted the owl,” mused Draco.

Harry blushed. “What?” asked Draco.

“I just thought – if someone intercepted the letter – “ Harry trailed off and groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“What?”

“It was – it was so embarrassing,” said Harry in a small voice.

“Oh? What was in it, then, if it was so embarrassing?” asked Draco, a trace of playfulness in his voice.

“Well, er, I wrote some, er, sort of …intimate stuff. You know,” Harry said awkwardly.

“Well, if even one of them died from a heart attack, I'll die happy.” Draco eyed Harry pointedly and crossed his arms. “Harry, what was in that letter? I demand answers!”

“Does it really matter, Draco?”

“Hmph. You're just trying to worm your way out of telling me.” Draco pouted.

“It just feels so different, you know, writing it than saying it out loud…”

“Saying what?”

“I, aahh, well, er, you know…”

“Please, Harry?” said Draco gently and looked straight into Harry's eyes. And if Harry had ever had any doubts, they dissolved like fog in the wind.

“I love you, Draco,” Harry whispered. Then he bent down and softly brushed Draco's lips with his own. Against Harry's lips, Draco murmured, “Took you long enough.” Harry chuckled and deepened the kiss hungrily, experiencing a feeling of urgency, that he shouldn't waste any more time with Draco, for their existence was so uncertain and they could never know when they might be torn apart again.

“There is no such thing as fate, Draco…” Harry whispered before Draco wiped every coherent thought away from his mind.

***

Hermione was striding up the stairs in St. Mungo's to the Dai Llewellyn ward where he knew Draco Malfoy was kept.

She was awfully worried about Harry. He'd become a little strange after they had left Hogwarts; so distant. Sometimes Hermione noticed dark shadows under his eyes, telling tales about his nightly wakefulness. Hermione tried to talk about it to him, but he was always very vague with his answers and left Hermione feeling decidedly frustrated and angry.

Hermione knew that she and Ron's baby was going to be a boy. They had performed magical tests right there in St. Mungo's, only a few weeks ago. They'd tried to think of a name, but they'd always been so busy with the Order business that the time had never been enough. Hermione stroked her round stomach and thought of her future. Now that Voldemort and most of his followers were gone, they could concentrate on rebuilding the magical community. Ron and Hermione could finally concentrate on their small family. And Hermione had always wanted a proper wedding, not like the small and hurried one they had when they'd been seventeen. Hermione decided that the choice to marry at seventeen had been unexpectedly rash of her, but on the other hand, she'd loved Ron, still loved him so much that sometimes she felt that she couldn't think logically when Ron was in question. That infuriated her to no end, but that was beside the point. Hermione thought that married life was rather nice; to be able to wake up next to Ron every morning and say, “Good morning, Darling,” and gaze at each others' rings and beam stupidly and share tea and toast. It felt so right.

But after their leaving from Hogwarts, Hermione had started to doubt if Harry would ever experience the same thing. He had seemed so empty. But the look in his eyes when he had returned from the battlefield, carrying the bleeding body of Draco, with so much hope in his eyes… She had felt so much joy inside. No matter for whom Harry was feeling hopeful. Just as long as he showed it, she was happy.

Hermione walked down the hallway. She knew that Harry'd been spending most of his time there since the end of the war. He'd been there… with Draco. At first, she'd had a hard time accepting it, but then she'd though about it and, after an enlightening chat with Professor Dumbledore, when she'd found out that Draco'd been a spy all along, she'd felt her heart lighten remarkably. She wondered what had convinced Draco to switch sides, but she didn't question it. She had a fairly good idea anyway…

She stopped at door number 441, Draco's room, and opened it ever so slightly.

“Took you long enough…” she heard a voice drift across the room, and as she didn't recognise it as Harry's, she assumed that it was Draco speaking. She peeked inside the room, and really, whatever she might have expected couldn't have prepared her for the sight. Harry and Draco were sitting on a hospital bed, kissing like there was no tomorrow. Quietly, Hermione closed the door and left, unable to control the happy grin on her face.

Fin~