Too Selfless

Harry woke up to the tapping on his window. He yawned lazily and got out of his bed, glancing at the clock. It was three o'clock in the morning. He groaned inwardly at the early hour, but, despite his tiredness, he walked to the window and opened it, letting the owl inside. After untying the letter from its leg, he placed the owl in Hedwig's cage (she was out that night; not that she'd mind anyway) and put some Owl Treats in the food bowl. He opened the envelope and started to read. At the first two lines his eyes widened in disbelief, and he read the rest of the letter with his heart in his throat. At the end of it, he was choking back tears, but he read it again. And again.

Finally, he took out his own bottle of ink and a clean parchment, and began to write. He didn't care if Draco didn't want a reply.

There is no such thing as fate, Draco. I've told you so many times.

We weren't meant to be, but we weren't meant not to be either.

I came to you that first day because someone very important to me had died. I was aggrieved, I had cried, but I didn't want to see the pitying looks all of my friends were giving me. I had had enough pity in my life.

It was a chance meeting, really. I had just left the common room for a walk - I'd told Hermione that I was going to the library, because it was obvious that she thought that I was going to jump off the tower. So I left, wandering aimlessly in the corridors until my feet ached. But I didn't want to go back, because when I was with everyone the pain felt so... they couldn't have understood. I needed to think about it and be sad; he deserved it. Then I saw you, standing alone there by the window. You looked at me and, for a while, the usual mask you wore was gone. I think I did go mad for a second because I walked to you despite you telling me off. I wanted to be with the only person who didn't pity me. But I asked you, just to make sure. And that moment, when you answered me with the scorn so omnipresent in your voice, I think I fell in love with you. Then, I just talked... I needed to talk to somebody, and I think you listened. Not with the pity everyone else did, but with disbelief and - I saw it in your eyes that you understood. Then, it all was too much. I had to give in, so I leaned closer and kissed you. That moment, you froze, and when I drew back and looked into your eyes, I saw that you were torn. Apparently, what I had said wasn't enough because you fled, and it hurt me. I didn't go after you, because I didn't want to push you into anything. And I was sure that you hated me, then more than ever. For the confusion I caused, you would hate me.

For many nights, I couldn't sleep. I just gazed out of the window, musing how everything had come to this point. It had all started that day at Madam Malkin's. First, it had been resentment, then hate, then despise. But somewhere along the way, the both of us changed - like everyone does. I remember those countless times I felt your eyes on my back and turned to see you staring. For a fleeting moment, it wasn't hostile, only confusion and a little melancholy, but then you put your usual mask on and glared at me, before turning away. At first, I thought that the glances were purely coincidental, but when I every day noticed your pained eyes fixed on me, I started to question. I wanted to talk to you about it, and when I did, you ran away.

One of those restless nights, I saw you standing in the scenery, gazing over the lake. I knew that it was now or never, and I couldn't help it. My feet carried me to you and, despite your protests, I did whatever I could to win you over. I believe I succeeded, but only partly, for you're not here.

The following few months, however, were pure bliss and heart-gnawing torment at the same time. I loved you, I loved the time I spent with you, but in front of everybody, when we had to pretend to be the rivals they used to see us as, the inner turmoil was indescribable. Only the clandestine escapades in the protective shadows of the night could make me bear it.

But everything that's good must come to an end once. I had known that for my whole life, and what we had was definitely good. No, scratch that. It was wonderful. I knew that you had always planned to become a Death Eater, your father wanted you to become one and everyone expected it from you, just like I had done. I never thought that I could turn you away from that path; I always thought that you didn't want to be turned away from that path. But whenever I was with you, I didn't care if we had a future toghether or not. I just wanted to give you everything I had, to pour my heart to every word my lips spilled. I wanted to take the best out of the time we had together, because seriously, I was sure I would never love anyone like I loved you. Like I still love.

I didn't try to convince you to turn to the Light side. Frankly, I had started to question everything - how could our side be the 'Light' side? There is no pure darkness or light, not in the human heart, at least. But that is beside the point. I just wanted us to be on the same side and, for a while, we were. But only for a while, because I could tell by just looking into your stormy eyes that you had decided. It was uncertain and faltering, but it was there. I was resigned. I didn't want to be selfish and cause more pain to you by making you feel guilty about it, and I never actually had thought that you'd choose otherwise. Nevertheless, it made me feel abysmally sad and desperate.

I never guessed that you'd end up meaning so much to me. When it started, I thought I was only, as you said, a little insane, but with every passing moment, I craved for you more. When I finally admitted to myself that I was really in love with you, everything became so clear. I would let you go, because I loved you. I wouldn't try to bend your beliefs to meet with mine, because I loved you. But every moment we spent together, I would try to make as meaningful as I could, because I loved you. I didn't know if you loved me back, for that was among the things I couldn't see in your eyes.

And the final night, when you offered me the flower, I felt like I couldn't breathe. You told me what you were going to do, though I already knew it. I hadn't wanted to believe it at first, but hearing it from you, the words, even and calm, made it painfully clear to me. I told you what I thought about it, as I had so many times before, but I could see and feel that neither of us believed my words anymore. In reality, I wanted to kidnap you and run as far as I could so that no one could find us and we could be together. But that night, I finally saw it. I looked into your eyes, and finally saw the love. I knew that you were about to voice it; but I interrupted you with a kiss. If we declared our love it would be even harder to let go, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to bear it. I tried to pour my every emotion into that kiss, for I guessed it would probably be the last we ever shared. I pulled back and left, the feel of your lips still lingering on mine. I went straight to the dormitories and started packing, trying not to cry. It was futile, for, when I laid my eyes on the lily, I was instantly reminded of your soft lips, your gentle touch, and the bittersweet voice that called my name in the dead of the night. I had cried myself to sleep when everyone came back.

In the morning, many asked me where I had been during the Ball, where I had got the flower from, and so on. I just forced a smile on my face and answered something very idle. I know that Ron and Hermione saw right through me and knew that something was wrong, but they didn't broach the subject. I was grateful for that.

I never married Ginny. I loved her as a little sister, and marrying her would've been comparable to adultery, I would've cheated mentally on both her and you. I told her that, and she cried, but she moved on. Ron and Hermione got married, and are very happy. Hermione's pregnant. Sometimes they come to visit me, and sometimes they ask about the flower, which I magically replanted in a glass pot. I keep it on the windowsill, where the moon shines every night when it's not behind the clouds. I never give them an elaborate answer, and they know not to pursue it. But I'm afraid I might have to talk about it to someone soon, because I feel like my heart's going to burst from the pain. Not that it isn't already shattered.

I dream of you sometimes, as well. In my dreams you just stand in front of me, and when I try to reach for you, you walk away. I try to call your name but you don't hear it, and then the only thing that's left is the moonlight. I wake up crying. You're the only thing that makes me cry nowadays.

The madness never left me, but without you it's hollow.

Yours, as you are mine,

Harry

Harry had never thought that Draco would contact him again. He had thought that Draco'd forgotten him. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek, as he put the letter inside an envelope. He tied it to the owl's leg, and opened the window for it. It flew to the horizon. Harry turned his gaze to the lily on the windowsill. It bloomed tonight, as the moon was full and bright. He sighed. It had been almost a year since they'd parted, and Harry's love had never faltered. He returned to bed, but he couldn't sleep. He wondered where Draco was. He wondered if Draco was well. Why had Draco sent him this letter?

He'd have to know.