Fanfic - On Everything White & Deception
Let's all agree not to laugh at this.
Title: On Everything White & Deception
Author: faire_weather
Rating: R
Warnings: Character Death, Suicide, Adult Language
Word Count: 10,101
Summary: "What if all the grass and flowers just gave up and never grew back after the snow?" Pairings: HpDm, HgRw.
Disclaimer: These characters and places aren’t mine. They are J.K. Rowling’s.
Additional Notes: I wrote this a hell of a long time ago. I'm basically just archiving it here so all my fics are in the same place.
* * *
On Everything White & Deception
An escapable tragedy that no one thought to escape
Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Black and White--there was never any gray. There was no middle ground, no in between, no leeway, just them: two kids in love who didn't know any better not to be.
That was what it all came down to, at the end of it all. Polar opposites pushing against and pulling to each other for so long that there was nothing left to feel but love. In such close proximity, that fine line between love and hate is going to snap. It’s unavoidable, and when that happens there’s nothing left to fight with but passion. Nothing left to die for but each other...nothing left to live for after that.
It was never meant to happen, they said. It was just some strange occurrence that no one ever predicted, so they didn't know how to respond. Maybe if they'd known ahead of time, it would've turned out differently. Maybe if they'd closed their mouths and opened their eyes…Maybe.
You can't dwell on the past, they said. It's been years and they still can't bring themselves to accept it or take even a little bit of the blame. It wasn't meant to happen, they said.
Well, it did. Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Black and White--Love and Hate...or maybe just something so beautiful that no one could see it before they destroyed it, and when they did, everything was just so deceptively white that it still took years for it to all finally sink in. By then, it was too late.
A phoenix cannot rise from ashes that are not there.
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
The ground was covered in ash-macabre remains of a little town people used to call Hogsmeade. Harry Potter was aware of this. He was aware of everything. He could feel the remaining Death Eaters around him; he could sense their power, he could still feel that aftershocks of Crucio coursing through his veins. He could feel the ash covering his hair and smudged across his face. He didn’t even have to open his eyes.
That was the day that he finally broke down. The wind stilled and Harry forced his eyes open through the soot in the air to see his best friend Ron Weasley jumping in front of a green curse meant for Draco Malfoy. With his red hair, he looked just like a phoenix rising from the ashes. It would be his last burning day.
Harry screamed. He screamed and clinched his fists and tried to knock Ron out of the way, but it was too late. He fell on top of him and held his body close. That was when he noticed the second spark of green light manifest; he closed his eyes, but the darkness never came.
That was when he realized that even after all that-after his best friend of seven years had died to save Harry’s lover-Harry had let them both down. He’d let his guard down and in turn, left his Crucio’d lover with a snapped wand and two broken legs lying vulnerable in the line of fire. By the time he realized his mistake it was too late, and he wasn’t sure which body to hold anymore. He screamed until his throat was raw.
And Harry had fallen-broken-his head in his hands screaming for gods he wasn't sure he believed in anymore.
The funerals were three days later and Harry sat on the grass outside the gates of Hogwarts holding Hermione with his eyes screwed shut, shaking and trembling and sobbing for two boys he’d grown up with-both of which he loved in two entirely different ways. His chest ached and he didn't know how to stop pain like this-pain that didn't end when the spell was lifted-pain like Crucio because it wracked your bones and tore your veins and ripped through every last good thought you ever had.
He mourned his first best friend that day alongside his second best friend and watched her fall to pieces right along with him. He mourned a lover few ever knew he had while holding a girl who’d grown up years ago, but wasn’t quite ready to be yet. He watched her as it finally sunk in for the both of them that the tie that binds would no longer bind them.
They sat side by side in the grass watching as bundles of deceptively white flowers were tossed across closed caskets being lowered into the dirt, symbolizing something that neither of the two felt mattered any more.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a journalist and her photographer from the Daily Prophet snapping pictures of the two of them from a distance. Somewhere deep inside him, he knew, without a doubt, that the story featured in the next day’s edition would be nothing like the story he and Hermione were about to tell.
-=-=-=-
November, Sixth Year
It was November; Harry loved November. Halloween had passed and he had another full year before he would have to deal with the old stories that haunted him about the holiday again. The reporters had, as per status quo, featured the death of his parents in the paper again. They called it a tribute, but all Harry could see was the dirt as his nose was rubbed in it.
The air was chilly and the lake was frozen, waiting patiently for the snow that would surely be coming that evening. He tossed yesterday’s newspaper aside and sighed.
The sound of footsteps crunching over the frozen grass earned his attention, but he made no move to acknowledge his visitor. He knew who it would be without having to look. The same person had followed him out to the lake nearly every other day for several weeks now.
"I'm tired of doing this," Draco said as he sat down quietly in the grass next to the solemn boy. It was the first time they’d ever spoken to each other during one of these times. Harry, not sure yet how to react to the sudden communication, continued to stare out at the lake and watched the moon ripple over the waters. He didn’t respond for what seemed like hours.
"I know," he said finally. "It feels like I've run out of whatever it was that allowed all of this to continue for so long. Like it was all pretenses, and now there’s no reason to keep them up any longer." He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back on his elbows to stare at the sky. Draco sighed.
"It's been six years…but my original offer still stands," he said with a nervousness that no one would be able to detect except the one person he didn't want to detect it-the one person who knew him better than anyone else, without even having to know him at all. The one person…he was speaking to right now. Draco closed his eyes.
Draco couldn’t see him, but Harry was grinning lopsidedly, staring at the Slytherin, and chuckling to himself at his obvious nervousness. Without hesitation, Harry held out a hand. "Harry Potter; nice to meet you." Draco exhaled and opened his eyes.
"Draco Malfoy, a pleasure," the other boy replied with a matching grin, taking the proffered hand and shaking it firmly. Ahead of them, the frozen lake was beginning to graciously receive the first snow of season. They laughed when little white flecks landed on their noses and eyelashes, betraying for all the world that everything would finally be all right.
-=-=-=-
Early December, Sixth Year
It was several weeks before anyone ever noticed that Harry was hardly ever around anymore, and Harry had begun to think everything would be all right. He felt like he was finally going to have a life to live and he was ready to be introduced to it. So, he waited.
After the defeat of Voldemort, many had been so caught up in celebrating and finally living, that they just seemed to forget about the boy who made it all possible. When Hermione finally pulled herself away from Ron’s constant attention for a few minutes to check on her best friend, she found him lying on his back in the snow, eyes closed with a peaceful smile on his face.
Only moments later, Draco Malfoy joined him without a word, and she scolded herself for failing to notice the developing friendship. If she had been paying attention, the signs would have been obvious-the lack of insults, the inconspicuous passing nods in corridors between classes.
She returned every few days for several weeks, and had anyone opened their eyes long enough to notice, they would have seen that she was quietly observing two former enemies-hiding in plain sight-talking happily only to each other. With her gloved hands tucked neatly in the pockets of her robes, Hermione made a decision.
If anyone had taken the initiative to notice, they would’ve seen a bright-eyed girl standing on the steps of the castle with a determined look on her face, brown hair blowing across her face in the early winter wind before she quietly made her way out onto the grounds.
The snow had come unapologetically by then and the grounds were covered in a deceptive white-hiding all the dirt and mud and dead grass from view. Harry lay next to Draco and stared out over the lake, conversation springing up every now and then, though they both preferred the quiet company.
Neither of the two noticed the softly approaching footsteps on the snow until, quite unexpectedly, Hermione lay down on the other side of Harry. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared out over the lake, not saying a word. A small smile played across her lips and Harry and Draco looked at her cautiously before she eventually spoke up, seeming to not even notice their presence at all.
“The snow is so deceptive,” she began, bright eyes never wavering from their intense study of the frozen lake. “It looks so pure, but underneath it, it’s all dead. When it melts again, what are we left with? Dead grass and mud…then spring will come and life will rise up just like a phoenix until the next frost. It’s something to think about you know? The phoenix always rises, but what if one day the snow was to melt and underneath nothing was there? What if all the grass and the flowers just gave up and never grew back?” She fell silent again while Harry and Draco continued to stare at her.
With a sigh, she began again. “I’ve seen the both of you out here. I’ve been watching for weeks wondering what sort of comfort you two must have found in each other to just…sit…and be content in each other’s company. I think it goes back to a phoenix being a metaphor for life: everything runs its course and then…it just dies. It dies and sometimes it’s reborn the same; sometimes it’s not. I think with the two of you, pretenses have run their course and your burning day has come. I hope you both make the most of it, and I’m happy that it seems you have. I just wanted you both to know that.”
Hermione tore her eyes away from the lake and smiled softly at Harry and Draco before pushing herself off the ground, dusting her robes off, and walking back to the castle. They watched her as she held her face to the sky, catching random flurries of snow on her eye lashes before lowering her head and walking on.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
The walk back to the castle from the double funeral was quiet. Hermione lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes as the soft snow met her red nose and lips and cheeks before melting into the tears already on her face. If she was looking for an answer for something in the sky, Harry was convinced she’d found it. He wrapped an arm around her waist and nudged her on toward the castle.
When the two of them reached the Gryffindor common room there was an unspoken understanding between them that it would be the last time either of them ever walked into that common room ever again. It was something of a macabre peace that befell both of them. Younger students tried their best to give their condolences over the loss of one of the Golden Trio, but the tight smile on Harry and Hermione’s faces would have shown that Ron was not the only one they were mourning, had the students chosen to see it.
He looked at her and she nodded slightly. Without a word, they walked up to their separate dormitories to retrieve the things they would need to begin their story. They met again downstairs, taking one last look around the common room before heading to the portrait hole together.
No one noticed those glances-glances that said that, had anyone been paying attention, it would be the last time Harry Potter and Hermione Granger would walk out through that portrait hole. It might’ve looked a little bit like longing followed by resignation, then finally…peace.
Even after seven years, the unearthly bright reds and golds of the furniture, fireplaces you could walk through, living portraits and moving chess pieces still held that ethereal quality. It was something that two Muggle-raised kids could appreciate, even if the ones they mourned never thought twice about it. Harry smiled sadly at Hermione and slipped the invisibility cloak over their bodies as they walked through the corridors and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Sixth Year
Quietly opening the door to the Astronomy Tower, Harry snuck up behind Draco with his invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him. The blonde was perched on the open window sill staring out over the snow covered grounds with a peaceful look on his face. Harry reached out a hand and ghosted it lightly down the Slytherin’s face. He shivered.
Turning slightly, Draco reached out a hand until it made contact with something solid. He smiled. “Harry?”
Slipping off the invisibility cloak, Harry smiled beautifully at the blonde and pulled him into a hug. “How was your day, Draco?” he asked quietly as he perched himself on the other side of the window sill to face Draco.
“Good, now that you’re here. It’s still strange to not have anyone to talk to in my house. I think you’re all I’ve got left,” Draco said quietly. Harry smiled at him before rummaging through his pockets and pulling out a little crumpled cardboard box.
“Cigarette?” Harry asked as he opened it and pulled two cigarettes out.
“I haven’t smoked in years,” Draco answered as he accepted the proffered cigarette from Harry. “I knew you’d be the death of me, Potter.” Harry grinned and pulled out a lighter to light both of their cigarettes. He inhaled deeply and then opened his mouth to speak.
“I have you a gift,” Harry said, extending a hand where a small box wrapped in silver paper rested. Draco eyed it warily before snatching it and pulling a box out of his own robes.
“It would seem I have one for you, as well,” he replied and handed Harry an equally small box wrapped in gold paper. Harry beamed and they both began tearing the paper off their presents. The irony of the subsequent gifts caused them both to chuckle and they looked back up at each other, amusement dancing in their eyes.
“You got me a ring, Potter,” Draco said with a grin.
“And it seems as if you’ve gotten me one, as well, Malfoy,” Harry replied calmly, though clearly quite amused. They both burst out laughing before calming enough to read the inscriptions. Harry smiled at the beautiful gold ring, finding it ironic that it was a near perfect match of the silver one he'd given Draco. It seemed to glow with an ethereal quality, almost. “Have no friends not equal to yourself,” Harry recited. He looked up at Draco questioningly. “Does this mean that you finally think I’m your equal, oh egotistical one?” Draco grinned impishly.
“Absolutely, my dear Gryffindor. It was only a matter of time, really,” Draco replied easily, but quickly sobered. “Adversity does teach who your real friends are…” Draco looked thoughtful. “I’m amazed you got all of that to fit inside this ring,” he grinned. “I think adversity is what allowed this…us…being friends, whatever…to happen. It makes me realize how happy I am that we went through all that, if only because we get this as an outcome,” he blushed.
They slipped their gifts onto their fingers and inhaled another drag off their cigarettes. Staring out the window at the black sky, they fell into a peaceful quiet. After many long moments, still looking out the window, Draco began to speak softly.
“My mother used to tell me stories about how when people die, they become a star. She said that that’s why they’re so many-because so many people have died. The brightest stars were the most important people. She used to tell me that after I’d lived a long, successful, if not happy, life then one day I’d be one of the brightest stars up there. She said I’d rival the North Star…” he trailed off looking thoughtful. Harry just watched him silently.
“I don’t think I will be. I was never very good or very strong or very brave. I’ve always thought that I would die too young to change that. The war’s finally over, but I still have this ominous feeling that my destiny hasn’t changed. It’s like I can feel it coming. I don’t know how it will happen, but I feel it.” Draco looked up at Harry again, but instead of continuing with his own feelings, he posed a question instead.
“If you could choose how you die, how would want it?” he asked quietly.
“Avada Kedavra. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?” Harry responded evenly. Then he smiled at Draco and they each took another hit off their cigarettes.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off of him and Hermione before tossing it aside and lighting up a cigarette.
“Those are going to kill you, Harry,” Hermione said, trying desperately to lighten the mood with a joke. It brought a small smile to his face and he pulled her tight up against him and held her close.
“Would you like one?” he asked, even while lighting his own. She looked hesitant, but soon shook her head at her own expense and gingerly plucked one from his pack, lighting it with the tip of her wand. He smiled at her. They opened a window and perched on the sill, facing each other, but saying nothing.
After several long moments, Harry could hear the sounds of muffled sobbing, and moved to pull Hermione to him and situate her between his legs. Her back rested softly against his chest and she could feel the vibrations in it when he spoke.
“We’re alive, Hermione. Does it feel magical to you? Does it feel real?” She sighed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. Shaking her head slowly, she took a deep breath and answered.
“It feels deceptive,” she said simply. She paused, and then, “Will we see them again, or will it just be that white light and then…nothing?” Harry was quiet for a long time, and Hermione had begun to think he wasn’t going to answer, and then he tightened his grip around her, a hand rubbing softly on her belly.
“I think it’s like going to sleep,” he began. “I think Heaven and Hell are your conscience-and everything is really just a dream. If you die happy, then I think you will see your loved ones there. If you die with a guilty conscience, I think it will become your own personal Hell. I read once that even after death, the brain continues to show infinitesimal amounts of activity all the way until the very last cell has disintegrated. I think when that happens, the dream’s over and everything just goes blank. You don’t even realize it; it’s just like going to sleep. So, do you have a guilty conscience, Hermione?”
“I do, but I think I’ll die happy, anyway. I know I’ll see him there. I know he’s waiting for me, and I can die happy knowing that…I can die peacefully,” she said softly. “What about you, Harry?”
“I trust myself to make it to wherever he is, if only because I promised him I would,” he answered.
-=-=-=-
January, Sixth Year
The corridor was dark in the dungeons, but Harry didn’t mind. It was warmer here than it was outside or in the Astronomy Tower, and night time was about the only time he was able to ‘be friends’ with Draco. They were on their way to the kitchens for snacks, both having skipped dinner for a detention that neither deserved but both complained about.
“Glad you could make it, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Didn’t think you’d lower yourself to visiting the dungeons.” Harry just smirked.
“I promised you I would come to wherever you wanted to meet.” Draco chuckled and slung his arm around Harry’s shoulder as they continued their walk to the kitchens.
Inside, Draco brought Harry a plate full of macaroni and cheese and set it down in front of him. Harry began to eat immediately, but Draco watched him thoughtfully.
“Why do you trust me so much, Harry? I could’ve poisoned that…” Draco said, slightly exasperated.
“Because you’ve never given me a reason to trust you,” Harry answered simply, without looking up from his forkful of pasta.
“That makes no sense at all, Potter,” Draco replied. Harry ducked his head even lower to hide the smile that was forcing itself on his face at the use of his last name. Draco only used it these days when he was trying…trying…to be forceful and snooty. “I still could’ve poisoned you!”
“Well, Draco, my dear Slytherin, did you poison my macaroni and cheese?” Harry asked, swallowing another bite. Draco huffed.
“No! Of course not!” he replied, but then realizing he had just lost his own argument, finished with, “but I could’ve…” It was a weak argument and Draco knew it. Harry set his fork down and looked pointedly at his Slytherin friend.
“I’ve come to realize that if someone goes out of their way to give me a reason to trust them, then they don’t need to be trusted. You’ve never lied to me. You’ve always told me what you thought of me in no uncertain words. If anything, I trust you because I know you’ll never hesitate to put me in my place. And furthermore,” Harry continued, picking up his fork again, “if you were to poison me, I’m sure you’d have a good reason to.”
Draco did not look pleased with that answer.
“Just be more careful, you idiotic Gryffindor,” he muttered, digging into his dinner, and Harry chuckled.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Sixth Year
“I can’t decide if we’re being foolish Gryffindors or brave Gryffindors right now,” Harry said after a long pause. Hermione shifted in his embrace to make her now quite-round belly more comfortable.
“Whatever we are Harry, I’m ready for it. He needs to know her name...he needs to see her,” she said quietly, subconsciously rubbing her stomach. She turned to look out the window into the long dark again and rested her head against Harry’s chest. He reached a hand out of the window and watched as thousands of tiny drops of water hit the palm of his outstretched hand.
“Look, it’s raining,” he said absently. “Looks like it’s going to be another early spring this year.” Turning back to rest his cheek on Hermione’s head, he said softly, “I hope you brought your umbrella, Hermione.” She laughed sadly and began rummaging through her bag for a journal.
-=-=-=-
Early March, Sixth Year
“It’s raining, you know…” Draco said, amused, from under the protection of a water-proof cloak. Harry ignored him. He was standing by the edge of the lake with his head thrown back, arms outstretched, eyes closed, smiling softly as the water hit his face. He looked like an angel begging God for forgiveness...and receiving it, Draco thought fondly.
“It’s beautiful,” Harry finally said-arms still outstretched, eyes still closed, soft smile still on his lips. “Can’t you see it? This is beautiful. It’s a gift to us and we all waste it under water-proofed cloaks and umbrellas.” He lowered his arms and turned to smile genuinely at Draco. “Take it off; you need to feel this,” he said, gesturing at Draco’s water-proof cloak.
Draco didn’t respond, but eyed him warily. “I’ll get wet,” he said flatly. Harry let out a long suffering sigh and walked over to him.
“That’s the point. Trust me; you need to feel this. Who knows how many more chances we’ll have to let the rain hit our face?” Harry looked back up at the sky with another smile. “It’s beautiful, Draco, feel it.”
Draco looked up at the sky. The clouds were white, so deceptively white, when they should be grey. It was beautiful. Bitter sweet. A small smile graced his lips.
He shrugged off his cloak and tossed it on the wet grass. He stepped closer to Harry and took his hand. Lifting it to his mouth, Draco kissed the palm of Harry’s hand softly, before trailing kisses around his wrist and up his arm. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat and his eyes met Draco’s. Draco dropped Harry’s hand and pulled his body to him. He leaned his forehead against Harry’s, looked intently into his eyes, and smiled.
“No, Harry Potter,” he said softly. “This is beautiful…feel me.”
And then he kissed Harry. He kissed him with everything he had and everything he didn’t, kissed him with all he wanted and all he could give, and then…Harry kissed him back. He kissed him back at the first sign of spring, next to the calm waters of the lake a few feet away. He kissed him even as his heart beat so furiously that he thought it surely might stop at any moment. He kissed him on the castle grounds, and the drizzling rain began pounding down on them, soaking them from head to toe, masking the tears that flowed freely from both of their eyes because they knew…that the rain would wash it away.
And it was beautiful.
-=-=-=-
Late May, Sixth Year
“I think that’s a beautiful name, Hermione,” Harry said cheerily. “Have you told Ron what you picked out, yet?”
Hermione looked flustered at this question and her eyes lids fluttered several times before she settled on staring at the floor. At Harry’s persistent gaze, she caved.
“Harry…Ron doesn’t exactly know yet,” she said quietly.
“You haven’t told him?” She shook her head ‘no’.
“…Why not?” Harry asked, confused.
“You know how his family is Harry! You know how MY family is, for Merlin’s sake! I’m scared, Harry…I’m so scared,” she nearly screamed. Falling back against the bed she began to sob. Harry rushed over and took her in his arms, rocking her softly.
“Hey,” he called softly, “hey…’Mione it’s going to be okay. Ron loves you. His family loves you. It’ll be fine. When are you due?” he asked, trying to brighten her up a bit. She smiled to herself before turning a full on grin at Harry.
“Christmas day!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t that exciting?” she beamed and Harry couldn’t help chuckling at her sudden enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and rested his cheek on her head, softly stroking her hair.
He would be an honorary uncle in nine months-an honorary uncle with an honorary niece. It was going to be hard to keep this information from Ron before Hermione told him herself, but then, a thought occurred to him.
“’Mione? You’re only a few days pregnant…how can they tell if it’s a boy or girl already?”
“Magic, Harry, duh!” she said with a playful grin. He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer so she elaborated. “Madame Pomfrey can tell by the magical signature of the fetus. Witches have different types of signatures than wizards.”
-=-=-=-
Early October, Seventh Year
Madame Pomfrey bussled into the room and glared down at Harry as he was waking up. He timidly opened his eyes and it was white. White everywhere. White to calm him, white to lull him into false security.
“Mr. Potter, as much as I enjoy your company, I’m beginning to think I may need to set up a personal room for you, keyed to your magical signature. Perhaps we could even have a slumber party,” she said with a wry grin. Harry smirked at her, and immediately regretted it.
“My head hurts, Poppy!” Harry whinged mockingly.
“Oh for the love of Merlin, Harry!” she exclaimed. “It was just a silly bludger. Any other student and I’d have them here for the night, but seeing as you always manage to bounce back from all sorts of life-threatening hazards, I’m sending you on.” Harry grinned widely at her, but she wasn’t finished.
“Now, Harry, I’m giving you a pain relieving potion and another one for later, should you need it. I dare say that a very distraught Mr. Malfoy is pacing back and forth out in the waiting area. He pitched quite a fit when I shooed him out. Merlin, that one has a temper!” Harry chuckled again and downed the pain relieving potion.
He quickly dressed himself and exited the Infirmary before she could change her mind. Sure enough, Draco was pacing worriedly in the sitting room. A slow smile spread across Harry’s face.
“Hello, love,” Harry greeted cheerfully. Draco spun and stared at Harry with wide eyes before rushing over and crushing him in a desperate hug. Harry laughed and pulled back to kiss him gently. Suddenly, pulling back from the kiss, Draco broke out into a huge grin.
“…I caught the snitch!” he sing-songed and thrust the little fluttering ball into Harry’s hand. Harry laughed.
“And you decided to keep it? How did you get it past Madame Hooch?”
“I broke out into a bloody run as soon as I hit the ground. I’ve been hiding out here ever since,” he said with another grin.
“I’m glad to hear you weren’t at all worried about my condition,” Harry replied cheerfully. When Draco frowned, he continued. “You’re the only person I ever look forward to playing Quidditch against, Draco,” Harry said, smiling. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have given up my broom years ago.” Draco blushed and kissed him again.
-=-=-=-
June, Sixth Year
“When we graduate and the rest of the Death Eaters are caught, we’re going to take a trip around the world on our brooms and see everything there is to see. I want to see New York City. Just you and me,” Harry said, lying on the warm grass next to the lake with his head on Draco’s chest.
“Don’t you think a transatlantic broom flight would be a little trying?” Draco asked wryly. Harry turned his head to stare into Draco’s eyes.
“I’d swim it if you were on the other side,” Harry said seriously. Draco's breath caught in his throat and he sighed happily.
“I love you, Harry Potter,” Draco said softly, pushing a lock of black hair behind Harry’s ear. Harry smiled and lowered his lashes.
“I…I love you, too, Draco Malfoy,” Harry returned quietly…and he meant it. He would scream it from atop the Astronomy Tower if he could. He would jump from it, had Draco asked.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry stood up from his seat on a window sill in the Astronomy Tower.
“I miss him, Hermione. I miss them. I want to scream it from atop this bloody tower.” Harry covered his face with his hands. “Draco would’ve loved the rain. He would’ve loved the early spring. He would’ve loved the flowers and the grass that might grow back.
“I need to see him one more time, Hermione.” Crying silently, Hermione slipped off the window sill and pulled a book from her back-her journal.
She flipped it open to the last page, where, tucked safely inside, was the only picture of the four of them, taken only a month before, that wasn't already destroyed by attacks from the remaining Death Eaters. They both leaned back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the little movie play over and over on the paper.
-=-=-=-
November, Seventh Year
Harry and Draco were lying on the grass on the Quidditch pitch, staring up at the sky, despite the muddy ground, their white Quidditch trousers were deceptively clean. Harry brushed a soft lock of nearly white hair off Draco’s pale forehead and stared longingly at him.
Soft laughter was heard in the distance, and they looked up to see a very pregnant Hermione and a very proud Ron walking over to them. Hermione plopped down rather ungracefully and laughed at herself before Ron steadied her from falling all the way onto her back.
Draco and Harry chuckled lightly.
“What are you lot doing out here?” Harry asked, clearly amused. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances before turning to Harry and Draco and grinning wildly.
“We want to start a photo album for the baby,” Hermione began with a smile. “And the first picture we want in it is her parents and…godfathers.” Hermione bit her lip, still grinning and Ron beamed.
“…Godfathers?” Draco asked incredulously. Ron nodded.
“Yeah, mate. You and Harry, if you want to be, that is.” The two boys in question looked at each other before breaking out in huge grins.
“Well, Weasley, I am certainly flattered. I suppose this eases my worries that I would have to properly train the young witch by force,” he said with a smirk. Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed.
“Let’s get together then to take the picture,” Hermione instructed as she pulled a camera from her robes. She levitated it in front of them and they all scrunched in close to smile and wave at the camera.
It flashed and all four of them beamed.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry and Hermione smiled sadly at the picture before she flipped it over and pulled out a quill and ink. A sudden, harsh wind blew through the still open window as all the candles in the Astronomy Tower flashed and then went out.
Harry suddenly stiffened, and Hermione pulled him against her again. She set the picture aside and gazed expectantly at him.
“No more secrets, Harry,” she said softly. “We won’t have another chance to tell each other after tonight.” Harry stifled a sob and pressed his head against her chest.
“That…the candles suddenly going out in this room…it reminded me of Draco…” he said softly.
“Tell me.”
-=-=-=-
February, Sixth Year
“Hermione, I’m telling you; it’s a bad idea,” Harry said rubbing his face roughly and throwing himself back onto the couch in the common room.
“He needs to know, Harry, if you plan on continuing this friendship with Malfoy…”
“Draco,” Harry corrected.
“…If you plan on continuing this friendship with Draco, then Ron needs to know. He’s going to feel betrayed if he hears it from someone else, or Merlin forbid, sees you two together and not hexing each other!”
“You’re right, ‘Mione,” Harry said in resignation.
-=-=-=-
July 31, summer before Seventh Year
“When I’m with you,” Draco said, flying next to Harry in lazy circles above the forest near Harry’s house in Surrey, “I feel safe. I feel right. You’re right for me, and when I’m with you, everything is right.”
“I’ve always needed you. Always. I met you that day in Madame Malkin’s and I tried so, so hard to impress you. I did everything my father told me to do. I wanted you to be my friend so badly because I’d never really had one before and you looked…I don’t know.
“You looked ethereal. Your white skin, it was so deceiving and when you turned me down on the train…that was the first time I ever questioned my father.
“I felt so betrayed by him. Whatever it was that he trained me to do and say to make friends, it was obviously quite off the mark.
“I was eleven years old. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t, and then afterwards I didn’t know how to deal with it because you were the first person I actually every wanted as a friend and not just an acquaintance…and then you basically told me to sod off.” Draco glanced over to make sure Harry was still listening, and when he was reassured that he was, he continued.
“Anyway, that was your birthday that day. I didn’t know it at the time, but I figured it out at some later point. Your first birthday in the wizarding world and I acted like a total prat. I want to make it up to you for ruining that birthday by making this one hopefully the best you’ve ever had.”
“I want you to know me. I want you to know how much you mean to me…When I was little, after that first time in Madame Malkin’s, I used to pretend that we really were friends before I even knew your name. I would imagine you were there with me at the Manor and that you were my best friend-that we were inseparable and we grew up together.
“Then, I grew up myself, and my nights were haunted with continuations of those childhood games where we would be playing Quidditch out on the pitch, and you would fly up next to me and pull me on your broom and just…kiss me. And you would fall in love with me and we would make love all night under the moon and the stars and the world would stop spinning on its axis just to witness it because it would be so beautiful," Draco trailed off again.
“You must think me a fool,” Draco said, shaking his head angrily at himself.
“I assure you, my Dragon, I do not,” Harry said pulling Draco’s broom closer to his.
-=-=-=-
April, Sixth Year
“You don’t what, Harry?”
“I do not like girls, Ron…I’ve been trying to tell you all night. I fancy boys. In fact, the whole point of this little meeting was to explain to you that I not only fancy boys, I fancy Draco Malfoy. We’ve been together since March,” Harry said exasperated.
Ron threw himself back onto the couch and looked at Harry through slitted eyes. "Harry...mate...I know the stupid ferret hasn't been so...what's that word? ...antagonistic...lately, but are you sure? I mean, do you love him?"
"You have no idea," Harry replied with a smile.
-=-=-=-
July 31, summer before Seventh Year
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Draco?” Harry asked as he pulled Draco onto his broom to face him, and kissed him with everything he had and everything he didn’t. He turned Draco to face him on the broom as he kissed him languidly and slowly lowered it to the ground in lazy circles.
They landed softly in a clearing in the woods and made love all night under the moon and the stars and the world stopped spinning on its axis just to witness it.
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
“I’m really glad Hermione decided to stay at the castle and study,” Ron said with a grimace, “she’s getting so…bitchy.” Harry and Draco chuckled as they continued walking down the wooded trail that led to Hogsmeade.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “I definitely need to get some more Christmas shopping in, and that would be damn near impossible with a hormonal Hermione hedging me constantly.” Draco and Ron suddenly broke out in uncontrollable laughter. Harry just quirked an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.
“I like the way that sounds, what about you, Weasley?” Draco asked conspiratorially. Ron nodded quickly.
“Hormonal Hermione Hedging…don’t let her hear you say that or it’ll become Hormonal Hermione Hexing,” he replied with a grin. All three boys laughed this time and didn’t notice the group of masked wizards approaching them from the woods on each side.
“Expelliarmus!” one of the robed figures shouted and all three of their wands shot from their robes and into the hand of a waiting Death Eater. The three boys subconsciously backed up to each other, leaving no one’s back uncovered.
“Draco,” a masked voice drawled as it stepped forward. Draco sneered.
“Lucius,” he replied evenly. “What do you want?” Lucius Malfoy chuckled and removed his mask.
“Only the death of the Potter boy. Surely, you are aware that he cannot be allowed to live after defeating the Dark Lord again. ” Draco sniggered and Ron and Harry tried to find the humor in the situation.
“You would think that you would’ve been smart enough to leave him the first time he was defeated, Father,” he spat. “Surely, a Slytherin such as yourself is aware of the concept of self-preservation.” Lucius glared.
“I am, but perhaps you are not,” he said conversationally as he raised his wand. “Crucio!” he yelled and Draco fell to the ground screaming. “I did not raise my son to be a queer,” Lucius continued on as he watched his son writhe and scream on the ground.
Suddenly, hexes were flying and Harry pushed Ron to the ground and cast a shield around him. He would be fine so long as he didn’t move.
Harry ducked curses and shielded himself wandlessly while at the same time trying to throw a few curses wandlessly himself. He knew he was no match for the group of Death Eaters. He was counting on someone coming to help out so he could grab his boyfriend, best friend and run like Hell.
Draco was still screaming as Harry dodged and cursed his way closer to his lover. If he could just get their wands back, Ron could help out. “Accio!” he screamed and the three wands shot from Lucius’ back pocket. Harry managed to grab his, but Lucius snatched the other two from the air and snapped them before throwing them on the ground.
Finally, he lifted the curse from Draco, and Harry sighed in relief to see that he was still conscious. Ron was still inside the shield and trying to inconspicuously pull Draco in as well.
Lucius saw this movement and quickly raised his foot and kicked Draco-hard-in his knee. Harry and Ron both paled at the sickening crack that echoed through the woods, but it was soon followed by another crack and a piercing scream as he did the same to the other knee.
Draco passed out from the pain.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry wanted to pass out from the pain of remembering, but stayed conscious if only because he knew he would allow it to overcome him later. He closed his eyes sadly, and in a low, trembling voice started speaking.
"It was right before sixth year ended. Draco and I were sitting up here and I was holding him against my chest and kissing his neck. I can remember the way my wrists ached when he sighed. I can remember feeling the blood pulse through my veins. It was beautiful...he was so beautiful," Harry began to sob quietly at the memory. Hermione pulled him closer and he felt the bulge of her swollen stomach pressing into his back.
"He turned around and looked at me. His eyes were so...gods...ethereal. He was ethereal, and that was the moment I realized nothing else in this world compared to him...
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
Lucius Malfoy turned away from his unconscious son and regarded the two Gryffindors with disdain. Harry noted idly that his eyes had the same ethereal quality as Draco, and the thought unsettled him.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the battered form of his lover, his skin deceptively white after such a struggle. Bruises would surely form come morning, and even with magic, it would take several weeks to heal his broken bones.
He needed a plan to get them all out of harms way. Lucius chose that moment to speak.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Potter. I trust you are well?” Lucius asked condescendingly. Harry sneered at him. “Enjoying your immoral relationship with my son?”
“As well as one can be with an arrogant Death Eater constantly trailing him,” Harry replied as if he were commenting on the weather. “What brings you here, Lucius? Haven’t you a rape and pillage party planned for the evening?”
Lucius snarled and Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever breathe again.
-=-=-=-
Two days before summer holiday, Sixth Year
Draco turned quietly from his position against Harry's chest and faced him. A soft smile formed on his lips as he stared intensely into Harry's eyes. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he didn't think he'd ever breathe again.
All of the windows in the Astronomy Tower were open and the summer wind blew softly through the room as the moonlight reflected off Draco's hair. His eyes were bright even though the only light was the soft glow of the moon. Draco pulled out his wand and conjured thousands of softly glowing white candles all over the room. Harry smiled.
Taking both of Harry's hands in his, Draco began twirling the ring he'd given Harry for Christmas around his finger. He looked up to see Harry biting his lip gently and trying not to let himself become overwhelmed. Draco smiled.
"...I...it's hard for me to express my feelings for you, Harry," Draco began softly, quietly. "I want to, but it's so ingrained in me not to that I struggle for words whenever I start to speak. I want you to know. I want you to know me...so I wrote it all out for you, and this is it," Draco finished in a whisper, handing Harry a folded and worn piece of parchment.
It looked as if it had been carried around in a pocket for months.
“I want to sing it to you, to play it for you. I’ve never sang to anyone before other than my mother. My father always thought that playing a guitar was plebian, but…I love the sounds; it’s so raw.”
Draco stood up and walked over to a door that Harry hadn’t noticed until then. He opened it, reached in and pulled out an old acoustic guitar. Sitting back down in front of Harry, he began to strum.
When he opened his mouth, his voice was raw and beautiful-just like the guitar…just like him.
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
“Potter,” Lucius growled, raising his wand, “you have opened your mouth too many times. My son is an embarrassment to the Malfoy name, and I can always have another heir. If killing him is what it takes to break you, then so be it.”
Lucius turned his wand from Harry onto his son and opened his mouth.
“No!” Ron and Harry screamed as the green light shot forth from Lucius Malfoy’s wand. They both jumped and ran forward, trying to push the unconscious boy out of the way, but when Ron jumped on top of Draco, the light hit him hard in the back.
His body rolled off the side and Harry screamed. He ran over and picked his body up, rocking him slowly back and forth.
“Ron, no!” he cried, “Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. You can’t be; Hermione needs you. Your daughter needs you. She’ll be so lonely without you; you can’t die!” he screamed. Ron made no sound, and when Harry heard those two words being spoken again, he stood up-Ron’s body found the ground.
-=-=-=-
Two days before summer holiday, Sixth Year
Hey, are you lonely?
Has summer gone so slowly?
We found the ground
And that damage was done
It's cold as you fade into the sun
But where'd you go? To me…
Harry’s breath hitched in his throat again, and his eyes never wavered from their intense stare as Draco sang to him. He absently twirled the ring on his finger, and leaned back against the wall. The strumming of the guitar was soft and calming.
But you're alive!
But, it's only
Fallen frames, they told me
You stand out, it's so loud
And so what if it is?
It's cold as you face into the wind
Where'd to go? Tonight the sun shall see its light.
So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody's life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as he's
Thrown on the sand
All of our work
Is rated again.
Where to go?
Draco’s strumming sped up and he closed his eyes as he continued to sing. His voice carried over the room and reverberated off the walls. The light from the moon caught on his hair as a single piece fell over his eyes and he squeezed them closed tighter-or else Harry would’ve seen how wet they’d become. His voice was ethereal.
And you were
Somehow
The rain this thing could allow
But, child, it's all wrong
You're so strong
And this life…and work
And choice took far too long.
Where'd it go? Tonight the sun shall see its light.
So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody's life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as he's
Thrown on the sand
All of our worth
Is rated again
And I was sure you'd follow through
My world was turned to blue (so thin)
When you'd hide your songs would die
So I'd hide yours with mine
And all my words were bound to fail
Well, I know you won't fail
See, I can tell…
Harry looked up from the parchment and stared at Draco. He wasn’t breathing. His lungs were stiff and he tried to inhale, but the gasp that followed offered no reassurance. Draco opened his eyes smiled softly.
"...This is where you breathe, Harry,"
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
Breathe, damn it! Breathe you poncy little bastard! Oh gods, Draco if you don’t start breathing right now I’m going to kill you!” Harry’s eyes were wild and frantic. He looked all around him, searching for something he wasn’t quite sure of yet. “Gods, Draco, you insufferable little git, you’ve made your fucking point, goddamnit, breathe!”
Lucius Malfoy. He was just standing there watching Harry fall to pieces over his son-over the son he’d just killed with his own wand. The other Death Eaters had stopped to watch the Boy Who Lived-so vulnerable, unguarded, and all over the little queer Malfoy boy. It was something they didn’t understand.
Harry Potter stood up slowly from the still, silent body of his lover, looked behind him at his best friend and growled, closing his eyes.
Harry stood there-still and silent, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides and the black-robed figures were at a loss as to figure out what was going on-why he wasn’t trying to curse them.
One slowly raised their wand, ready to utter the Killing Curse, but Lucius shook his head and quietly waved them down. He wanted to see what the stupid boy was playing at. He wanted to know what a queer little teenager would do when he had no one to back him up.
And then Harry opened his eyes.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
“Open your eyes, Harry,” Hermione pleaded softly. “That’s beautiful, Harry. You should put it in a pensieve for them.”
“No,” he said as he shook his head slowly.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because it’s mine.”
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
Harry opened his eyes. He looked straight at Lucius Malfoy, and if any of the other Death Eaters were to make it out of that forest that day, they would’ve sworn that they saw Harry Potter’s eyes flash red.
If only for a moment.
“He was mine!” he screamed, and the black-robed Death Eaters began to feel the air around them heat up. They tried to run or apparate or anything, but they couldn’t move.
“Mine, goddamnit! You fucking son of a bitch, Lucius! Draco was mine! He wasn’t yours! He was mine!”
And then the dirt was pulled up from under the snow and began swirling around furiously-a thick black wind spinning around him and Harry Potter didn’t move; he just stood there staring at a fearful Lucius Malfoy.
Harry’s eyes slowly faded from green back into red and the darker the red, the darker the sky became. Finally, Harry screamed again and all of the magic and all of the dirt and all of the blackness in the sky rushed out of him only to envelop every last Death Eater.
Their anguished screams could be heard for miles, but Harry didn’t hear any of it. He was still staring at the writhing body of Lucius Malfoy.
“Where you’re going, Draco won’t be there,” he said, oddly calm. “Do you hear me, Lucius fucking Malfoy? Do you hear me? Draco won’t be there for you to hurt, but by the gods, I will meet you fucking there you fucking bastard. I will fucking see you there!”
And then everything was quiet.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
“It’s too quiet up here, ‘Mione,” Harry said, wiping the wetness from his face. He stood up from his spot in Hermione’s arms and looked down at her.
“I’ll see you there,” she said softly, and Harry hugged her tight for the very last time before leaving his best friend alone atop the Astronomy Tower. He picked up his invisibility cloak and walking out of the Astronomy Tower onto the grounds.
It was cold, but he didn’t feel any of it. He could still see the faint remains of Draco’s footprints in the snow from three days earlier-so deceptive that he could’ve almost sworn that Draco made them only moments before.
He followed the footsteps solemnly, never looking up to see where he was going, but he knew anyway. He knew because he could see his old footsteps next to them. The footsteps ended and Harry looked up at the sky trying to remember the last time he’d done so.
He’d been in love then, that much he remembered, and that was all it took for everything to come flooding back to him. He sat down in the snow with his head in his hands and rushed through every perfect memory he’d had until then. It would leave a smile on his face, if only for a little while.
He thought about the last seven years he'd spent there. He thought about that first day at Madame Malkin's; he thought about Quidditch and classes; he thought about Exploding Snap and visits to the Infirmary and nights prowling the corridors under an invisibility cloak, sneaking into the kitchens after meal times and dueling.
But mostly, he thought about Draco.
Harry stood up from the snowy ground and tentatively tested the frozen surface of the lake. When it showed no signs of faltering, he walked slowly to the middle and lay down with his arms spread over his head, staring up at the sky.
Harry twirled the ring on his finger before pulling it off and reading the new inscription one last time. He clutched it tightly in his hand and thought of the deceptive white of Draco’s face and hair and skin and everything. He thought about the way his hair fell in his eyes when he smiled.
He thought about the wedding they should’ve had and the house they should’ve lived in. The lives they should’ve lived…the beautiful way Draco panted Harry’s name when they made love, and all the times they should’ve been able to make love again.
Harry closed his eyes and raised his wand to his chest, his other hand still tightly clutching the friendship-turned-engagement ring between his fingers.
“Avada Kedavra.”
Right before the green light overpowered him and he fell into the darkness, he heard the soft sound of a petite body hitting the snowy ground below the Astronomy Tower. He smiled and wondered who would get there first.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Day, Seventh Year
Below the Astronomy Tower, a small girl with a round belly, nine months pregnant with her dead lover’s child, lay face down in the snow. It was morning, and when the students remaining at the castle for the holiday break went outside for a snowball fight, they found her.
The snow was deceptively white. Where there should’ve been blood, there was none.
An old white-haired bearded headmaster was the one to finally flip her body over. Her eyes were closed peacefully and she was…smiling. She was smiling.
There was a diary in her hand, pages crumpled just a little bit from the fall. When the old headmaster removed it from her grip, the pages opened and a photograph fell out onto the snow. He picked it up to see the faces of four smiling students waving happily at the camera.
A short brown-haired girl with glowing brown eyes smiled shyly as a taller red-headed boy picked her up and swung her around. On the other side, a black-haired boy with dancing green eyes pulled a grumpy looking blonde to him and held him tightly from behind, whispering in his ear and looking back up at the camera sheepishly. The blonde grinned and turned in the embrace to kiss the other boy passionately, hands sliding up to hold the sides of his face while the black-haired boy twined his fingers in the blonde’s hair.
Then the scene started all over again.
The old headmaster sighed sadly and flipped over the photograph. On the back, there was only a simple message.
“What if the grass and flowers just gave up and never grew back after the snow?”
When Hermione flung herself from atop the Astronomy Tower the night before, she took the nine month old child in her belly with her. Her name would've been Amanda Lily Granger-Weasley, she'd told Harry. She would’ve been born the day they found her.
‘Amanda’ because Hermione said that once upon a time it meant ‘worthy of love’ and that was something that this child definitely was, even if her parents and their friends weren’t-‘Lily’ in honor of a mother who'd once given her life to save her child's. Hermione would've done the same if she were able to keep from dying inside anyway every time she rubbed her belly.
No one found the still body of Harry Potter for another hour, but by that time, Hermione’s diary had been read through completely. Everyone knew why, but no one understood.
It wasn't meant to happen, they said.
Well, it did. Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Black and White--Love and Hate...or maybe just something so beautiful that no one could see it before they destroyed it, and when they did, everything was just so deceptively white that it still took years for it to all finally sink in. By then, it was too late and everything had faded into grey.
-=-=-=-
A/N: The song Draco sings/plays for Harry is called “Fair” by Remy Zero. You can find it on the Garden State soundtrack, though I suggest their CD as they’re really good.
Of course, comments are always welcome.
Title: On Everything White & Deception
Author: faire_weather
Rating: R
Warnings: Character Death, Suicide, Adult Language
Word Count: 10,101
Summary: "What if all the grass and flowers just gave up and never grew back after the snow?" Pairings: HpDm, HgRw.
Disclaimer: These characters and places aren’t mine. They are J.K. Rowling’s.
Additional Notes: I wrote this a hell of a long time ago. I'm basically just archiving it here so all my fics are in the same place.
* * *
On Everything White & Deception
An escapable tragedy that no one thought to escape
Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Black and White--there was never any gray. There was no middle ground, no in between, no leeway, just them: two kids in love who didn't know any better not to be.
That was what it all came down to, at the end of it all. Polar opposites pushing against and pulling to each other for so long that there was nothing left to feel but love. In such close proximity, that fine line between love and hate is going to snap. It’s unavoidable, and when that happens there’s nothing left to fight with but passion. Nothing left to die for but each other...nothing left to live for after that.
It was never meant to happen, they said. It was just some strange occurrence that no one ever predicted, so they didn't know how to respond. Maybe if they'd known ahead of time, it would've turned out differently. Maybe if they'd closed their mouths and opened their eyes…Maybe.
You can't dwell on the past, they said. It's been years and they still can't bring themselves to accept it or take even a little bit of the blame. It wasn't meant to happen, they said.
Well, it did. Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Black and White--Love and Hate...or maybe just something so beautiful that no one could see it before they destroyed it, and when they did, everything was just so deceptively white that it still took years for it to all finally sink in. By then, it was too late.
A phoenix cannot rise from ashes that are not there.
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
The ground was covered in ash-macabre remains of a little town people used to call Hogsmeade. Harry Potter was aware of this. He was aware of everything. He could feel the remaining Death Eaters around him; he could sense their power, he could still feel that aftershocks of Crucio coursing through his veins. He could feel the ash covering his hair and smudged across his face. He didn’t even have to open his eyes.
That was the day that he finally broke down. The wind stilled and Harry forced his eyes open through the soot in the air to see his best friend Ron Weasley jumping in front of a green curse meant for Draco Malfoy. With his red hair, he looked just like a phoenix rising from the ashes. It would be his last burning day.
Harry screamed. He screamed and clinched his fists and tried to knock Ron out of the way, but it was too late. He fell on top of him and held his body close. That was when he noticed the second spark of green light manifest; he closed his eyes, but the darkness never came.
That was when he realized that even after all that-after his best friend of seven years had died to save Harry’s lover-Harry had let them both down. He’d let his guard down and in turn, left his Crucio’d lover with a snapped wand and two broken legs lying vulnerable in the line of fire. By the time he realized his mistake it was too late, and he wasn’t sure which body to hold anymore. He screamed until his throat was raw.
And Harry had fallen-broken-his head in his hands screaming for gods he wasn't sure he believed in anymore.
The funerals were three days later and Harry sat on the grass outside the gates of Hogwarts holding Hermione with his eyes screwed shut, shaking and trembling and sobbing for two boys he’d grown up with-both of which he loved in two entirely different ways. His chest ached and he didn't know how to stop pain like this-pain that didn't end when the spell was lifted-pain like Crucio because it wracked your bones and tore your veins and ripped through every last good thought you ever had.
He mourned his first best friend that day alongside his second best friend and watched her fall to pieces right along with him. He mourned a lover few ever knew he had while holding a girl who’d grown up years ago, but wasn’t quite ready to be yet. He watched her as it finally sunk in for the both of them that the tie that binds would no longer bind them.
They sat side by side in the grass watching as bundles of deceptively white flowers were tossed across closed caskets being lowered into the dirt, symbolizing something that neither of the two felt mattered any more.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a journalist and her photographer from the Daily Prophet snapping pictures of the two of them from a distance. Somewhere deep inside him, he knew, without a doubt, that the story featured in the next day’s edition would be nothing like the story he and Hermione were about to tell.
-=-=-=-
November, Sixth Year
It was November; Harry loved November. Halloween had passed and he had another full year before he would have to deal with the old stories that haunted him about the holiday again. The reporters had, as per status quo, featured the death of his parents in the paper again. They called it a tribute, but all Harry could see was the dirt as his nose was rubbed in it.
The air was chilly and the lake was frozen, waiting patiently for the snow that would surely be coming that evening. He tossed yesterday’s newspaper aside and sighed.
The sound of footsteps crunching over the frozen grass earned his attention, but he made no move to acknowledge his visitor. He knew who it would be without having to look. The same person had followed him out to the lake nearly every other day for several weeks now.
"I'm tired of doing this," Draco said as he sat down quietly in the grass next to the solemn boy. It was the first time they’d ever spoken to each other during one of these times. Harry, not sure yet how to react to the sudden communication, continued to stare out at the lake and watched the moon ripple over the waters. He didn’t respond for what seemed like hours.
"I know," he said finally. "It feels like I've run out of whatever it was that allowed all of this to continue for so long. Like it was all pretenses, and now there’s no reason to keep them up any longer." He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back on his elbows to stare at the sky. Draco sighed.
"It's been six years…but my original offer still stands," he said with a nervousness that no one would be able to detect except the one person he didn't want to detect it-the one person who knew him better than anyone else, without even having to know him at all. The one person…he was speaking to right now. Draco closed his eyes.
Draco couldn’t see him, but Harry was grinning lopsidedly, staring at the Slytherin, and chuckling to himself at his obvious nervousness. Without hesitation, Harry held out a hand. "Harry Potter; nice to meet you." Draco exhaled and opened his eyes.
"Draco Malfoy, a pleasure," the other boy replied with a matching grin, taking the proffered hand and shaking it firmly. Ahead of them, the frozen lake was beginning to graciously receive the first snow of season. They laughed when little white flecks landed on their noses and eyelashes, betraying for all the world that everything would finally be all right.
-=-=-=-
Early December, Sixth Year
It was several weeks before anyone ever noticed that Harry was hardly ever around anymore, and Harry had begun to think everything would be all right. He felt like he was finally going to have a life to live and he was ready to be introduced to it. So, he waited.
After the defeat of Voldemort, many had been so caught up in celebrating and finally living, that they just seemed to forget about the boy who made it all possible. When Hermione finally pulled herself away from Ron’s constant attention for a few minutes to check on her best friend, she found him lying on his back in the snow, eyes closed with a peaceful smile on his face.
Only moments later, Draco Malfoy joined him without a word, and she scolded herself for failing to notice the developing friendship. If she had been paying attention, the signs would have been obvious-the lack of insults, the inconspicuous passing nods in corridors between classes.
She returned every few days for several weeks, and had anyone opened their eyes long enough to notice, they would have seen that she was quietly observing two former enemies-hiding in plain sight-talking happily only to each other. With her gloved hands tucked neatly in the pockets of her robes, Hermione made a decision.
If anyone had taken the initiative to notice, they would’ve seen a bright-eyed girl standing on the steps of the castle with a determined look on her face, brown hair blowing across her face in the early winter wind before she quietly made her way out onto the grounds.
The snow had come unapologetically by then and the grounds were covered in a deceptive white-hiding all the dirt and mud and dead grass from view. Harry lay next to Draco and stared out over the lake, conversation springing up every now and then, though they both preferred the quiet company.
Neither of the two noticed the softly approaching footsteps on the snow until, quite unexpectedly, Hermione lay down on the other side of Harry. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared out over the lake, not saying a word. A small smile played across her lips and Harry and Draco looked at her cautiously before she eventually spoke up, seeming to not even notice their presence at all.
“The snow is so deceptive,” she began, bright eyes never wavering from their intense study of the frozen lake. “It looks so pure, but underneath it, it’s all dead. When it melts again, what are we left with? Dead grass and mud…then spring will come and life will rise up just like a phoenix until the next frost. It’s something to think about you know? The phoenix always rises, but what if one day the snow was to melt and underneath nothing was there? What if all the grass and the flowers just gave up and never grew back?” She fell silent again while Harry and Draco continued to stare at her.
With a sigh, she began again. “I’ve seen the both of you out here. I’ve been watching for weeks wondering what sort of comfort you two must have found in each other to just…sit…and be content in each other’s company. I think it goes back to a phoenix being a metaphor for life: everything runs its course and then…it just dies. It dies and sometimes it’s reborn the same; sometimes it’s not. I think with the two of you, pretenses have run their course and your burning day has come. I hope you both make the most of it, and I’m happy that it seems you have. I just wanted you both to know that.”
Hermione tore her eyes away from the lake and smiled softly at Harry and Draco before pushing herself off the ground, dusting her robes off, and walking back to the castle. They watched her as she held her face to the sky, catching random flurries of snow on her eye lashes before lowering her head and walking on.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
The walk back to the castle from the double funeral was quiet. Hermione lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes as the soft snow met her red nose and lips and cheeks before melting into the tears already on her face. If she was looking for an answer for something in the sky, Harry was convinced she’d found it. He wrapped an arm around her waist and nudged her on toward the castle.
When the two of them reached the Gryffindor common room there was an unspoken understanding between them that it would be the last time either of them ever walked into that common room ever again. It was something of a macabre peace that befell both of them. Younger students tried their best to give their condolences over the loss of one of the Golden Trio, but the tight smile on Harry and Hermione’s faces would have shown that Ron was not the only one they were mourning, had the students chosen to see it.
He looked at her and she nodded slightly. Without a word, they walked up to their separate dormitories to retrieve the things they would need to begin their story. They met again downstairs, taking one last look around the common room before heading to the portrait hole together.
No one noticed those glances-glances that said that, had anyone been paying attention, it would be the last time Harry Potter and Hermione Granger would walk out through that portrait hole. It might’ve looked a little bit like longing followed by resignation, then finally…peace.
Even after seven years, the unearthly bright reds and golds of the furniture, fireplaces you could walk through, living portraits and moving chess pieces still held that ethereal quality. It was something that two Muggle-raised kids could appreciate, even if the ones they mourned never thought twice about it. Harry smiled sadly at Hermione and slipped the invisibility cloak over their bodies as they walked through the corridors and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Sixth Year
Quietly opening the door to the Astronomy Tower, Harry snuck up behind Draco with his invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him. The blonde was perched on the open window sill staring out over the snow covered grounds with a peaceful look on his face. Harry reached out a hand and ghosted it lightly down the Slytherin’s face. He shivered.
Turning slightly, Draco reached out a hand until it made contact with something solid. He smiled. “Harry?”
Slipping off the invisibility cloak, Harry smiled beautifully at the blonde and pulled him into a hug. “How was your day, Draco?” he asked quietly as he perched himself on the other side of the window sill to face Draco.
“Good, now that you’re here. It’s still strange to not have anyone to talk to in my house. I think you’re all I’ve got left,” Draco said quietly. Harry smiled at him before rummaging through his pockets and pulling out a little crumpled cardboard box.
“Cigarette?” Harry asked as he opened it and pulled two cigarettes out.
“I haven’t smoked in years,” Draco answered as he accepted the proffered cigarette from Harry. “I knew you’d be the death of me, Potter.” Harry grinned and pulled out a lighter to light both of their cigarettes. He inhaled deeply and then opened his mouth to speak.
“I have you a gift,” Harry said, extending a hand where a small box wrapped in silver paper rested. Draco eyed it warily before snatching it and pulling a box out of his own robes.
“It would seem I have one for you, as well,” he replied and handed Harry an equally small box wrapped in gold paper. Harry beamed and they both began tearing the paper off their presents. The irony of the subsequent gifts caused them both to chuckle and they looked back up at each other, amusement dancing in their eyes.
“You got me a ring, Potter,” Draco said with a grin.
“And it seems as if you’ve gotten me one, as well, Malfoy,” Harry replied calmly, though clearly quite amused. They both burst out laughing before calming enough to read the inscriptions. Harry smiled at the beautiful gold ring, finding it ironic that it was a near perfect match of the silver one he'd given Draco. It seemed to glow with an ethereal quality, almost. “Have no friends not equal to yourself,” Harry recited. He looked up at Draco questioningly. “Does this mean that you finally think I’m your equal, oh egotistical one?” Draco grinned impishly.
“Absolutely, my dear Gryffindor. It was only a matter of time, really,” Draco replied easily, but quickly sobered. “Adversity does teach who your real friends are…” Draco looked thoughtful. “I’m amazed you got all of that to fit inside this ring,” he grinned. “I think adversity is what allowed this…us…being friends, whatever…to happen. It makes me realize how happy I am that we went through all that, if only because we get this as an outcome,” he blushed.
They slipped their gifts onto their fingers and inhaled another drag off their cigarettes. Staring out the window at the black sky, they fell into a peaceful quiet. After many long moments, still looking out the window, Draco began to speak softly.
“My mother used to tell me stories about how when people die, they become a star. She said that that’s why they’re so many-because so many people have died. The brightest stars were the most important people. She used to tell me that after I’d lived a long, successful, if not happy, life then one day I’d be one of the brightest stars up there. She said I’d rival the North Star…” he trailed off looking thoughtful. Harry just watched him silently.
“I don’t think I will be. I was never very good or very strong or very brave. I’ve always thought that I would die too young to change that. The war’s finally over, but I still have this ominous feeling that my destiny hasn’t changed. It’s like I can feel it coming. I don’t know how it will happen, but I feel it.” Draco looked up at Harry again, but instead of continuing with his own feelings, he posed a question instead.
“If you could choose how you die, how would want it?” he asked quietly.
“Avada Kedavra. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?” Harry responded evenly. Then he smiled at Draco and they each took another hit off their cigarettes.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off of him and Hermione before tossing it aside and lighting up a cigarette.
“Those are going to kill you, Harry,” Hermione said, trying desperately to lighten the mood with a joke. It brought a small smile to his face and he pulled her tight up against him and held her close.
“Would you like one?” he asked, even while lighting his own. She looked hesitant, but soon shook her head at her own expense and gingerly plucked one from his pack, lighting it with the tip of her wand. He smiled at her. They opened a window and perched on the sill, facing each other, but saying nothing.
After several long moments, Harry could hear the sounds of muffled sobbing, and moved to pull Hermione to him and situate her between his legs. Her back rested softly against his chest and she could feel the vibrations in it when he spoke.
“We’re alive, Hermione. Does it feel magical to you? Does it feel real?” She sighed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. Shaking her head slowly, she took a deep breath and answered.
“It feels deceptive,” she said simply. She paused, and then, “Will we see them again, or will it just be that white light and then…nothing?” Harry was quiet for a long time, and Hermione had begun to think he wasn’t going to answer, and then he tightened his grip around her, a hand rubbing softly on her belly.
“I think it’s like going to sleep,” he began. “I think Heaven and Hell are your conscience-and everything is really just a dream. If you die happy, then I think you will see your loved ones there. If you die with a guilty conscience, I think it will become your own personal Hell. I read once that even after death, the brain continues to show infinitesimal amounts of activity all the way until the very last cell has disintegrated. I think when that happens, the dream’s over and everything just goes blank. You don’t even realize it; it’s just like going to sleep. So, do you have a guilty conscience, Hermione?”
“I do, but I think I’ll die happy, anyway. I know I’ll see him there. I know he’s waiting for me, and I can die happy knowing that…I can die peacefully,” she said softly. “What about you, Harry?”
“I trust myself to make it to wherever he is, if only because I promised him I would,” he answered.
-=-=-=-
January, Sixth Year
The corridor was dark in the dungeons, but Harry didn’t mind. It was warmer here than it was outside or in the Astronomy Tower, and night time was about the only time he was able to ‘be friends’ with Draco. They were on their way to the kitchens for snacks, both having skipped dinner for a detention that neither deserved but both complained about.
“Glad you could make it, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Didn’t think you’d lower yourself to visiting the dungeons.” Harry just smirked.
“I promised you I would come to wherever you wanted to meet.” Draco chuckled and slung his arm around Harry’s shoulder as they continued their walk to the kitchens.
Inside, Draco brought Harry a plate full of macaroni and cheese and set it down in front of him. Harry began to eat immediately, but Draco watched him thoughtfully.
“Why do you trust me so much, Harry? I could’ve poisoned that…” Draco said, slightly exasperated.
“Because you’ve never given me a reason to trust you,” Harry answered simply, without looking up from his forkful of pasta.
“That makes no sense at all, Potter,” Draco replied. Harry ducked his head even lower to hide the smile that was forcing itself on his face at the use of his last name. Draco only used it these days when he was trying…trying…to be forceful and snooty. “I still could’ve poisoned you!”
“Well, Draco, my dear Slytherin, did you poison my macaroni and cheese?” Harry asked, swallowing another bite. Draco huffed.
“No! Of course not!” he replied, but then realizing he had just lost his own argument, finished with, “but I could’ve…” It was a weak argument and Draco knew it. Harry set his fork down and looked pointedly at his Slytherin friend.
“I’ve come to realize that if someone goes out of their way to give me a reason to trust them, then they don’t need to be trusted. You’ve never lied to me. You’ve always told me what you thought of me in no uncertain words. If anything, I trust you because I know you’ll never hesitate to put me in my place. And furthermore,” Harry continued, picking up his fork again, “if you were to poison me, I’m sure you’d have a good reason to.”
Draco did not look pleased with that answer.
“Just be more careful, you idiotic Gryffindor,” he muttered, digging into his dinner, and Harry chuckled.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Sixth Year
“I can’t decide if we’re being foolish Gryffindors or brave Gryffindors right now,” Harry said after a long pause. Hermione shifted in his embrace to make her now quite-round belly more comfortable.
“Whatever we are Harry, I’m ready for it. He needs to know her name...he needs to see her,” she said quietly, subconsciously rubbing her stomach. She turned to look out the window into the long dark again and rested her head against Harry’s chest. He reached a hand out of the window and watched as thousands of tiny drops of water hit the palm of his outstretched hand.
“Look, it’s raining,” he said absently. “Looks like it’s going to be another early spring this year.” Turning back to rest his cheek on Hermione’s head, he said softly, “I hope you brought your umbrella, Hermione.” She laughed sadly and began rummaging through her bag for a journal.
-=-=-=-
Early March, Sixth Year
“It’s raining, you know…” Draco said, amused, from under the protection of a water-proof cloak. Harry ignored him. He was standing by the edge of the lake with his head thrown back, arms outstretched, eyes closed, smiling softly as the water hit his face. He looked like an angel begging God for forgiveness...and receiving it, Draco thought fondly.
“It’s beautiful,” Harry finally said-arms still outstretched, eyes still closed, soft smile still on his lips. “Can’t you see it? This is beautiful. It’s a gift to us and we all waste it under water-proofed cloaks and umbrellas.” He lowered his arms and turned to smile genuinely at Draco. “Take it off; you need to feel this,” he said, gesturing at Draco’s water-proof cloak.
Draco didn’t respond, but eyed him warily. “I’ll get wet,” he said flatly. Harry let out a long suffering sigh and walked over to him.
“That’s the point. Trust me; you need to feel this. Who knows how many more chances we’ll have to let the rain hit our face?” Harry looked back up at the sky with another smile. “It’s beautiful, Draco, feel it.”
Draco looked up at the sky. The clouds were white, so deceptively white, when they should be grey. It was beautiful. Bitter sweet. A small smile graced his lips.
He shrugged off his cloak and tossed it on the wet grass. He stepped closer to Harry and took his hand. Lifting it to his mouth, Draco kissed the palm of Harry’s hand softly, before trailing kisses around his wrist and up his arm. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat and his eyes met Draco’s. Draco dropped Harry’s hand and pulled his body to him. He leaned his forehead against Harry’s, looked intently into his eyes, and smiled.
“No, Harry Potter,” he said softly. “This is beautiful…feel me.”
And then he kissed Harry. He kissed him with everything he had and everything he didn’t, kissed him with all he wanted and all he could give, and then…Harry kissed him back. He kissed him back at the first sign of spring, next to the calm waters of the lake a few feet away. He kissed him even as his heart beat so furiously that he thought it surely might stop at any moment. He kissed him on the castle grounds, and the drizzling rain began pounding down on them, soaking them from head to toe, masking the tears that flowed freely from both of their eyes because they knew…that the rain would wash it away.
And it was beautiful.
-=-=-=-
Late May, Sixth Year
“I think that’s a beautiful name, Hermione,” Harry said cheerily. “Have you told Ron what you picked out, yet?”
Hermione looked flustered at this question and her eyes lids fluttered several times before she settled on staring at the floor. At Harry’s persistent gaze, she caved.
“Harry…Ron doesn’t exactly know yet,” she said quietly.
“You haven’t told him?” She shook her head ‘no’.
“…Why not?” Harry asked, confused.
“You know how his family is Harry! You know how MY family is, for Merlin’s sake! I’m scared, Harry…I’m so scared,” she nearly screamed. Falling back against the bed she began to sob. Harry rushed over and took her in his arms, rocking her softly.
“Hey,” he called softly, “hey…’Mione it’s going to be okay. Ron loves you. His family loves you. It’ll be fine. When are you due?” he asked, trying to brighten her up a bit. She smiled to herself before turning a full on grin at Harry.
“Christmas day!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t that exciting?” she beamed and Harry couldn’t help chuckling at her sudden enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and rested his cheek on her head, softly stroking her hair.
He would be an honorary uncle in nine months-an honorary uncle with an honorary niece. It was going to be hard to keep this information from Ron before Hermione told him herself, but then, a thought occurred to him.
“’Mione? You’re only a few days pregnant…how can they tell if it’s a boy or girl already?”
“Magic, Harry, duh!” she said with a playful grin. He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer so she elaborated. “Madame Pomfrey can tell by the magical signature of the fetus. Witches have different types of signatures than wizards.”
-=-=-=-
Early October, Seventh Year
Madame Pomfrey bussled into the room and glared down at Harry as he was waking up. He timidly opened his eyes and it was white. White everywhere. White to calm him, white to lull him into false security.
“Mr. Potter, as much as I enjoy your company, I’m beginning to think I may need to set up a personal room for you, keyed to your magical signature. Perhaps we could even have a slumber party,” she said with a wry grin. Harry smirked at her, and immediately regretted it.
“My head hurts, Poppy!” Harry whinged mockingly.
“Oh for the love of Merlin, Harry!” she exclaimed. “It was just a silly bludger. Any other student and I’d have them here for the night, but seeing as you always manage to bounce back from all sorts of life-threatening hazards, I’m sending you on.” Harry grinned widely at her, but she wasn’t finished.
“Now, Harry, I’m giving you a pain relieving potion and another one for later, should you need it. I dare say that a very distraught Mr. Malfoy is pacing back and forth out in the waiting area. He pitched quite a fit when I shooed him out. Merlin, that one has a temper!” Harry chuckled again and downed the pain relieving potion.
He quickly dressed himself and exited the Infirmary before she could change her mind. Sure enough, Draco was pacing worriedly in the sitting room. A slow smile spread across Harry’s face.
“Hello, love,” Harry greeted cheerfully. Draco spun and stared at Harry with wide eyes before rushing over and crushing him in a desperate hug. Harry laughed and pulled back to kiss him gently. Suddenly, pulling back from the kiss, Draco broke out into a huge grin.
“…I caught the snitch!” he sing-songed and thrust the little fluttering ball into Harry’s hand. Harry laughed.
“And you decided to keep it? How did you get it past Madame Hooch?”
“I broke out into a bloody run as soon as I hit the ground. I’ve been hiding out here ever since,” he said with another grin.
“I’m glad to hear you weren’t at all worried about my condition,” Harry replied cheerfully. When Draco frowned, he continued. “You’re the only person I ever look forward to playing Quidditch against, Draco,” Harry said, smiling. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have given up my broom years ago.” Draco blushed and kissed him again.
-=-=-=-
June, Sixth Year
“When we graduate and the rest of the Death Eaters are caught, we’re going to take a trip around the world on our brooms and see everything there is to see. I want to see New York City. Just you and me,” Harry said, lying on the warm grass next to the lake with his head on Draco’s chest.
“Don’t you think a transatlantic broom flight would be a little trying?” Draco asked wryly. Harry turned his head to stare into Draco’s eyes.
“I’d swim it if you were on the other side,” Harry said seriously. Draco's breath caught in his throat and he sighed happily.
“I love you, Harry Potter,” Draco said softly, pushing a lock of black hair behind Harry’s ear. Harry smiled and lowered his lashes.
“I…I love you, too, Draco Malfoy,” Harry returned quietly…and he meant it. He would scream it from atop the Astronomy Tower if he could. He would jump from it, had Draco asked.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry stood up from his seat on a window sill in the Astronomy Tower.
“I miss him, Hermione. I miss them. I want to scream it from atop this bloody tower.” Harry covered his face with his hands. “Draco would’ve loved the rain. He would’ve loved the early spring. He would’ve loved the flowers and the grass that might grow back.
“I need to see him one more time, Hermione.” Crying silently, Hermione slipped off the window sill and pulled a book from her back-her journal.
She flipped it open to the last page, where, tucked safely inside, was the only picture of the four of them, taken only a month before, that wasn't already destroyed by attacks from the remaining Death Eaters. They both leaned back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the little movie play over and over on the paper.
-=-=-=-
November, Seventh Year
Harry and Draco were lying on the grass on the Quidditch pitch, staring up at the sky, despite the muddy ground, their white Quidditch trousers were deceptively clean. Harry brushed a soft lock of nearly white hair off Draco’s pale forehead and stared longingly at him.
Soft laughter was heard in the distance, and they looked up to see a very pregnant Hermione and a very proud Ron walking over to them. Hermione plopped down rather ungracefully and laughed at herself before Ron steadied her from falling all the way onto her back.
Draco and Harry chuckled lightly.
“What are you lot doing out here?” Harry asked, clearly amused. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances before turning to Harry and Draco and grinning wildly.
“We want to start a photo album for the baby,” Hermione began with a smile. “And the first picture we want in it is her parents and…godfathers.” Hermione bit her lip, still grinning and Ron beamed.
“…Godfathers?” Draco asked incredulously. Ron nodded.
“Yeah, mate. You and Harry, if you want to be, that is.” The two boys in question looked at each other before breaking out in huge grins.
“Well, Weasley, I am certainly flattered. I suppose this eases my worries that I would have to properly train the young witch by force,” he said with a smirk. Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed.
“Let’s get together then to take the picture,” Hermione instructed as she pulled a camera from her robes. She levitated it in front of them and they all scrunched in close to smile and wave at the camera.
It flashed and all four of them beamed.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry and Hermione smiled sadly at the picture before she flipped it over and pulled out a quill and ink. A sudden, harsh wind blew through the still open window as all the candles in the Astronomy Tower flashed and then went out.
Harry suddenly stiffened, and Hermione pulled him against her again. She set the picture aside and gazed expectantly at him.
“No more secrets, Harry,” she said softly. “We won’t have another chance to tell each other after tonight.” Harry stifled a sob and pressed his head against her chest.
“That…the candles suddenly going out in this room…it reminded me of Draco…” he said softly.
“Tell me.”
-=-=-=-
February, Sixth Year
“Hermione, I’m telling you; it’s a bad idea,” Harry said rubbing his face roughly and throwing himself back onto the couch in the common room.
“He needs to know, Harry, if you plan on continuing this friendship with Malfoy…”
“Draco,” Harry corrected.
“…If you plan on continuing this friendship with Draco, then Ron needs to know. He’s going to feel betrayed if he hears it from someone else, or Merlin forbid, sees you two together and not hexing each other!”
“You’re right, ‘Mione,” Harry said in resignation.
-=-=-=-
July 31, summer before Seventh Year
“When I’m with you,” Draco said, flying next to Harry in lazy circles above the forest near Harry’s house in Surrey, “I feel safe. I feel right. You’re right for me, and when I’m with you, everything is right.”
“I’ve always needed you. Always. I met you that day in Madame Malkin’s and I tried so, so hard to impress you. I did everything my father told me to do. I wanted you to be my friend so badly because I’d never really had one before and you looked…I don’t know.
“You looked ethereal. Your white skin, it was so deceiving and when you turned me down on the train…that was the first time I ever questioned my father.
“I felt so betrayed by him. Whatever it was that he trained me to do and say to make friends, it was obviously quite off the mark.
“I was eleven years old. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t, and then afterwards I didn’t know how to deal with it because you were the first person I actually every wanted as a friend and not just an acquaintance…and then you basically told me to sod off.” Draco glanced over to make sure Harry was still listening, and when he was reassured that he was, he continued.
“Anyway, that was your birthday that day. I didn’t know it at the time, but I figured it out at some later point. Your first birthday in the wizarding world and I acted like a total prat. I want to make it up to you for ruining that birthday by making this one hopefully the best you’ve ever had.”
“I want you to know me. I want you to know how much you mean to me…When I was little, after that first time in Madame Malkin’s, I used to pretend that we really were friends before I even knew your name. I would imagine you were there with me at the Manor and that you were my best friend-that we were inseparable and we grew up together.
“Then, I grew up myself, and my nights were haunted with continuations of those childhood games where we would be playing Quidditch out on the pitch, and you would fly up next to me and pull me on your broom and just…kiss me. And you would fall in love with me and we would make love all night under the moon and the stars and the world would stop spinning on its axis just to witness it because it would be so beautiful," Draco trailed off again.
“You must think me a fool,” Draco said, shaking his head angrily at himself.
“I assure you, my Dragon, I do not,” Harry said pulling Draco’s broom closer to his.
-=-=-=-
April, Sixth Year
“You don’t what, Harry?”
“I do not like girls, Ron…I’ve been trying to tell you all night. I fancy boys. In fact, the whole point of this little meeting was to explain to you that I not only fancy boys, I fancy Draco Malfoy. We’ve been together since March,” Harry said exasperated.
Ron threw himself back onto the couch and looked at Harry through slitted eyes. "Harry...mate...I know the stupid ferret hasn't been so...what's that word? ...antagonistic...lately, but are you sure? I mean, do you love him?"
"You have no idea," Harry replied with a smile.
-=-=-=-
July 31, summer before Seventh Year
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Draco?” Harry asked as he pulled Draco onto his broom to face him, and kissed him with everything he had and everything he didn’t. He turned Draco to face him on the broom as he kissed him languidly and slowly lowered it to the ground in lazy circles.
They landed softly in a clearing in the woods and made love all night under the moon and the stars and the world stopped spinning on its axis just to witness it.
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
“I’m really glad Hermione decided to stay at the castle and study,” Ron said with a grimace, “she’s getting so…bitchy.” Harry and Draco chuckled as they continued walking down the wooded trail that led to Hogsmeade.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “I definitely need to get some more Christmas shopping in, and that would be damn near impossible with a hormonal Hermione hedging me constantly.” Draco and Ron suddenly broke out in uncontrollable laughter. Harry just quirked an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.
“I like the way that sounds, what about you, Weasley?” Draco asked conspiratorially. Ron nodded quickly.
“Hormonal Hermione Hedging…don’t let her hear you say that or it’ll become Hormonal Hermione Hexing,” he replied with a grin. All three boys laughed this time and didn’t notice the group of masked wizards approaching them from the woods on each side.
“Expelliarmus!” one of the robed figures shouted and all three of their wands shot from their robes and into the hand of a waiting Death Eater. The three boys subconsciously backed up to each other, leaving no one’s back uncovered.
“Draco,” a masked voice drawled as it stepped forward. Draco sneered.
“Lucius,” he replied evenly. “What do you want?” Lucius Malfoy chuckled and removed his mask.
“Only the death of the Potter boy. Surely, you are aware that he cannot be allowed to live after defeating the Dark Lord again. ” Draco sniggered and Ron and Harry tried to find the humor in the situation.
“You would think that you would’ve been smart enough to leave him the first time he was defeated, Father,” he spat. “Surely, a Slytherin such as yourself is aware of the concept of self-preservation.” Lucius glared.
“I am, but perhaps you are not,” he said conversationally as he raised his wand. “Crucio!” he yelled and Draco fell to the ground screaming. “I did not raise my son to be a queer,” Lucius continued on as he watched his son writhe and scream on the ground.
Suddenly, hexes were flying and Harry pushed Ron to the ground and cast a shield around him. He would be fine so long as he didn’t move.
Harry ducked curses and shielded himself wandlessly while at the same time trying to throw a few curses wandlessly himself. He knew he was no match for the group of Death Eaters. He was counting on someone coming to help out so he could grab his boyfriend, best friend and run like Hell.
Draco was still screaming as Harry dodged and cursed his way closer to his lover. If he could just get their wands back, Ron could help out. “Accio!” he screamed and the three wands shot from Lucius’ back pocket. Harry managed to grab his, but Lucius snatched the other two from the air and snapped them before throwing them on the ground.
Finally, he lifted the curse from Draco, and Harry sighed in relief to see that he was still conscious. Ron was still inside the shield and trying to inconspicuously pull Draco in as well.
Lucius saw this movement and quickly raised his foot and kicked Draco-hard-in his knee. Harry and Ron both paled at the sickening crack that echoed through the woods, but it was soon followed by another crack and a piercing scream as he did the same to the other knee.
Draco passed out from the pain.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
Harry wanted to pass out from the pain of remembering, but stayed conscious if only because he knew he would allow it to overcome him later. He closed his eyes sadly, and in a low, trembling voice started speaking.
"It was right before sixth year ended. Draco and I were sitting up here and I was holding him against my chest and kissing his neck. I can remember the way my wrists ached when he sighed. I can remember feeling the blood pulse through my veins. It was beautiful...he was so beautiful," Harry began to sob quietly at the memory. Hermione pulled him closer and he felt the bulge of her swollen stomach pressing into his back.
"He turned around and looked at me. His eyes were so...gods...ethereal. He was ethereal, and that was the moment I realized nothing else in this world compared to him...
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
Lucius Malfoy turned away from his unconscious son and regarded the two Gryffindors with disdain. Harry noted idly that his eyes had the same ethereal quality as Draco, and the thought unsettled him.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the battered form of his lover, his skin deceptively white after such a struggle. Bruises would surely form come morning, and even with magic, it would take several weeks to heal his broken bones.
He needed a plan to get them all out of harms way. Lucius chose that moment to speak.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Potter. I trust you are well?” Lucius asked condescendingly. Harry sneered at him. “Enjoying your immoral relationship with my son?”
“As well as one can be with an arrogant Death Eater constantly trailing him,” Harry replied as if he were commenting on the weather. “What brings you here, Lucius? Haven’t you a rape and pillage party planned for the evening?”
Lucius snarled and Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever breathe again.
-=-=-=-
Two days before summer holiday, Sixth Year
Draco turned quietly from his position against Harry's chest and faced him. A soft smile formed on his lips as he stared intensely into Harry's eyes. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he didn't think he'd ever breathe again.
All of the windows in the Astronomy Tower were open and the summer wind blew softly through the room as the moonlight reflected off Draco's hair. His eyes were bright even though the only light was the soft glow of the moon. Draco pulled out his wand and conjured thousands of softly glowing white candles all over the room. Harry smiled.
Taking both of Harry's hands in his, Draco began twirling the ring he'd given Harry for Christmas around his finger. He looked up to see Harry biting his lip gently and trying not to let himself become overwhelmed. Draco smiled.
"...I...it's hard for me to express my feelings for you, Harry," Draco began softly, quietly. "I want to, but it's so ingrained in me not to that I struggle for words whenever I start to speak. I want you to know. I want you to know me...so I wrote it all out for you, and this is it," Draco finished in a whisper, handing Harry a folded and worn piece of parchment.
It looked as if it had been carried around in a pocket for months.
“I want to sing it to you, to play it for you. I’ve never sang to anyone before other than my mother. My father always thought that playing a guitar was plebian, but…I love the sounds; it’s so raw.”
Draco stood up and walked over to a door that Harry hadn’t noticed until then. He opened it, reached in and pulled out an old acoustic guitar. Sitting back down in front of Harry, he began to strum.
When he opened his mouth, his voice was raw and beautiful-just like the guitar…just like him.
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
“Potter,” Lucius growled, raising his wand, “you have opened your mouth too many times. My son is an embarrassment to the Malfoy name, and I can always have another heir. If killing him is what it takes to break you, then so be it.”
Lucius turned his wand from Harry onto his son and opened his mouth.
“No!” Ron and Harry screamed as the green light shot forth from Lucius Malfoy’s wand. They both jumped and ran forward, trying to push the unconscious boy out of the way, but when Ron jumped on top of Draco, the light hit him hard in the back.
His body rolled off the side and Harry screamed. He ran over and picked his body up, rocking him slowly back and forth.
“Ron, no!” he cried, “Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. You can’t be; Hermione needs you. Your daughter needs you. She’ll be so lonely without you; you can’t die!” he screamed. Ron made no sound, and when Harry heard those two words being spoken again, he stood up-Ron’s body found the ground.
-=-=-=-
Two days before summer holiday, Sixth Year
Hey, are you lonely?
Has summer gone so slowly?
We found the ground
And that damage was done
It's cold as you fade into the sun
But where'd you go? To me…
Harry’s breath hitched in his throat again, and his eyes never wavered from their intense stare as Draco sang to him. He absently twirled the ring on his finger, and leaned back against the wall. The strumming of the guitar was soft and calming.
But you're alive!
But, it's only
Fallen frames, they told me
You stand out, it's so loud
And so what if it is?
It's cold as you face into the wind
Where'd to go? Tonight the sun shall see its light.
So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody's life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as he's
Thrown on the sand
All of our work
Is rated again.
Where to go?
Draco’s strumming sped up and he closed his eyes as he continued to sing. His voice carried over the room and reverberated off the walls. The light from the moon caught on his hair as a single piece fell over his eyes and he squeezed them closed tighter-or else Harry would’ve seen how wet they’d become. His voice was ethereal.
And you were
Somehow
The rain this thing could allow
But, child, it's all wrong
You're so strong
And this life…and work
And choice took far too long.
Where'd it go? Tonight the sun shall see its light.
So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody's life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as he's
Thrown on the sand
All of our worth
Is rated again
And I was sure you'd follow through
My world was turned to blue (so thin)
When you'd hide your songs would die
So I'd hide yours with mine
And all my words were bound to fail
Well, I know you won't fail
See, I can tell…
Harry looked up from the parchment and stared at Draco. He wasn’t breathing. His lungs were stiff and he tried to inhale, but the gasp that followed offered no reassurance. Draco opened his eyes smiled softly.
"...This is where you breathe, Harry,"
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
Breathe, damn it! Breathe you poncy little bastard! Oh gods, Draco if you don’t start breathing right now I’m going to kill you!” Harry’s eyes were wild and frantic. He looked all around him, searching for something he wasn’t quite sure of yet. “Gods, Draco, you insufferable little git, you’ve made your fucking point, goddamnit, breathe!”
Lucius Malfoy. He was just standing there watching Harry fall to pieces over his son-over the son he’d just killed with his own wand. The other Death Eaters had stopped to watch the Boy Who Lived-so vulnerable, unguarded, and all over the little queer Malfoy boy. It was something they didn’t understand.
Harry Potter stood up slowly from the still, silent body of his lover, looked behind him at his best friend and growled, closing his eyes.
Harry stood there-still and silent, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides and the black-robed figures were at a loss as to figure out what was going on-why he wasn’t trying to curse them.
One slowly raised their wand, ready to utter the Killing Curse, but Lucius shook his head and quietly waved them down. He wanted to see what the stupid boy was playing at. He wanted to know what a queer little teenager would do when he had no one to back him up.
And then Harry opened his eyes.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
“Open your eyes, Harry,” Hermione pleaded softly. “That’s beautiful, Harry. You should put it in a pensieve for them.”
“No,” he said as he shook his head slowly.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because it’s mine.”
-=-=-=-
December 21, Seventh Year
Harry opened his eyes. He looked straight at Lucius Malfoy, and if any of the other Death Eaters were to make it out of that forest that day, they would’ve sworn that they saw Harry Potter’s eyes flash red.
If only for a moment.
“He was mine!” he screamed, and the black-robed Death Eaters began to feel the air around them heat up. They tried to run or apparate or anything, but they couldn’t move.
“Mine, goddamnit! You fucking son of a bitch, Lucius! Draco was mine! He wasn’t yours! He was mine!”
And then the dirt was pulled up from under the snow and began swirling around furiously-a thick black wind spinning around him and Harry Potter didn’t move; he just stood there staring at a fearful Lucius Malfoy.
Harry’s eyes slowly faded from green back into red and the darker the red, the darker the sky became. Finally, Harry screamed again and all of the magic and all of the dirt and all of the blackness in the sky rushed out of him only to envelop every last Death Eater.
Their anguished screams could be heard for miles, but Harry didn’t hear any of it. He was still staring at the writhing body of Lucius Malfoy.
“Where you’re going, Draco won’t be there,” he said, oddly calm. “Do you hear me, Lucius fucking Malfoy? Do you hear me? Draco won’t be there for you to hurt, but by the gods, I will meet you fucking there you fucking bastard. I will fucking see you there!”
And then everything was quiet.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Eve, Seventh Year
“It’s too quiet up here, ‘Mione,” Harry said, wiping the wetness from his face. He stood up from his spot in Hermione’s arms and looked down at her.
“I’ll see you there,” she said softly, and Harry hugged her tight for the very last time before leaving his best friend alone atop the Astronomy Tower. He picked up his invisibility cloak and walking out of the Astronomy Tower onto the grounds.
It was cold, but he didn’t feel any of it. He could still see the faint remains of Draco’s footprints in the snow from three days earlier-so deceptive that he could’ve almost sworn that Draco made them only moments before.
He followed the footsteps solemnly, never looking up to see where he was going, but he knew anyway. He knew because he could see his old footsteps next to them. The footsteps ended and Harry looked up at the sky trying to remember the last time he’d done so.
He’d been in love then, that much he remembered, and that was all it took for everything to come flooding back to him. He sat down in the snow with his head in his hands and rushed through every perfect memory he’d had until then. It would leave a smile on his face, if only for a little while.
He thought about the last seven years he'd spent there. He thought about that first day at Madame Malkin's; he thought about Quidditch and classes; he thought about Exploding Snap and visits to the Infirmary and nights prowling the corridors under an invisibility cloak, sneaking into the kitchens after meal times and dueling.
But mostly, he thought about Draco.
Harry stood up from the snowy ground and tentatively tested the frozen surface of the lake. When it showed no signs of faltering, he walked slowly to the middle and lay down with his arms spread over his head, staring up at the sky.
Harry twirled the ring on his finger before pulling it off and reading the new inscription one last time. He clutched it tightly in his hand and thought of the deceptive white of Draco’s face and hair and skin and everything. He thought about the way his hair fell in his eyes when he smiled.
He thought about the wedding they should’ve had and the house they should’ve lived in. The lives they should’ve lived…the beautiful way Draco panted Harry’s name when they made love, and all the times they should’ve been able to make love again.
Harry closed his eyes and raised his wand to his chest, his other hand still tightly clutching the friendship-turned-engagement ring between his fingers.
“Avada Kedavra.”
Right before the green light overpowered him and he fell into the darkness, he heard the soft sound of a petite body hitting the snowy ground below the Astronomy Tower. He smiled and wondered who would get there first.
-=-=-=-
Christmas Day, Seventh Year
Below the Astronomy Tower, a small girl with a round belly, nine months pregnant with her dead lover’s child, lay face down in the snow. It was morning, and when the students remaining at the castle for the holiday break went outside for a snowball fight, they found her.
The snow was deceptively white. Where there should’ve been blood, there was none.
An old white-haired bearded headmaster was the one to finally flip her body over. Her eyes were closed peacefully and she was…smiling. She was smiling.
There was a diary in her hand, pages crumpled just a little bit from the fall. When the old headmaster removed it from her grip, the pages opened and a photograph fell out onto the snow. He picked it up to see the faces of four smiling students waving happily at the camera.
A short brown-haired girl with glowing brown eyes smiled shyly as a taller red-headed boy picked her up and swung her around. On the other side, a black-haired boy with dancing green eyes pulled a grumpy looking blonde to him and held him tightly from behind, whispering in his ear and looking back up at the camera sheepishly. The blonde grinned and turned in the embrace to kiss the other boy passionately, hands sliding up to hold the sides of his face while the black-haired boy twined his fingers in the blonde’s hair.
Then the scene started all over again.
The old headmaster sighed sadly and flipped over the photograph. On the back, there was only a simple message.
“What if the grass and flowers just gave up and never grew back after the snow?”
When Hermione flung herself from atop the Astronomy Tower the night before, she took the nine month old child in her belly with her. Her name would've been Amanda Lily Granger-Weasley, she'd told Harry. She would’ve been born the day they found her.
‘Amanda’ because Hermione said that once upon a time it meant ‘worthy of love’ and that was something that this child definitely was, even if her parents and their friends weren’t-‘Lily’ in honor of a mother who'd once given her life to save her child's. Hermione would've done the same if she were able to keep from dying inside anyway every time she rubbed her belly.
No one found the still body of Harry Potter for another hour, but by that time, Hermione’s diary had been read through completely. Everyone knew why, but no one understood.
It wasn't meant to happen, they said.
Well, it did. Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Black and White--Love and Hate...or maybe just something so beautiful that no one could see it before they destroyed it, and when they did, everything was just so deceptively white that it still took years for it to all finally sink in. By then, it was too late and everything had faded into grey.
-=-=-=-
A/N: The song Draco sings/plays for Harry is called “Fair” by Remy Zero. You can find it on the Garden State soundtrack, though I suggest their CD as they’re really good.
Of course, comments are always welcome.