AN. Okay, so this is a sad fic. If it makes you cry, when you review you can have a tissue and a cookie. Two cookies for every tissue I give out! Coz I'm sorry I made you cry. It just can't be helped. The lyrics in italics are from a song by Evanescence called 'My Immortal'. It's hinted slash and you only find out who it is at the end but you could read it as almost anything. And a note on the POV, it starts as the non-suicidal one and changes to the suicidal one. It's only those two POVs. Oh, I hope you're not confused by the end coz it changes to third person. So, please don't cry and review me!
My Immortal
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
I hated being there. He knew I hated hospitals, but he should have known that I wouldn't leave him, no matter how much I wanted to go. Stupid fears, childhood memories. Muggle hospitals scared me, and wizarding ones were no different. Even St. Mungo's scared me. I don't know why, hospitals just did.
Why did he do it? Why did he take me to that…place, and leave me there?
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
I wasn't going, there was absolutely no way I would have left him. None at all. But I wanted to, oh how I wanted to. The only thing that kept me there was him, my love and his presence.
I sat by his side, you know. I sat there for days, occasionally seeing members of the Order. Dumbledore came at least twice, Snape once, McGonagall to bring wishes from students, hoping he was going to be okay. Half of them hated him; I don't know why they bothered. Even Ron and Hermione came, once with Hagrid, once on their own.
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
I thought I loved him and hated him more then than I ever had, but I was wrong. I loved him, I never hated him. He had made it impossible for me to hate him. I had needed him, needed to feel wanted. Just like he did. And he had made me happy. I thought I had made him happy as well, but, obviously I was wrong.
I didn't even realize that anything had been wrong. I thought we had got through everything, figured everything out. I thought he had meant it when he promised me that he wouldn't do it again. He said he wouldn't, he swore to me that he wouldn't. But he did it again, and that's why we were there.
I wasn't leaving, no way. I could face my fears; I was facing my greatest fear right then.
(POV CHANGE)
These wounds won't seem to heal
They weren't ever going to heal. The potion that was on them, it was based on snake venom. They weren't going to heal. I wasn't going to stop bleeding until I had no blood left. And I wasn't going quickly.
I'm sorry for doing that to him. I know he hated hospitals. He shouldn't have been there, you know. He should have left. I was leaving him, so why did he stay? Or did they not tell him?
This pain is just too real
It hurt. It hurt so damn much. I hurt so much. It was unbearable. It wasn't meant to hurt as much as it did but I wanted it to hurt more. I needed it to hurt more. The pain wasn't enough, not after what I put him through. He held me every night for hours on end, just to keep me from hurting myself. He failed though. He thought he had done it, protected me from myself.
I don't think he ever realized why he always woke up alone. I was quick enough to learn a spell that hid marks and scars. Not anything nearly strong enough to help him hide his, but it worked well on my arms. He never realized. I didn't want to keep it from him, I swear. I'm sorry, but the pain was real enough to stop me from telling him.
There's just too much that time cannot erase
He never really knew why I did it. I never told him fully. He never found out why I ended up at Hogwarts, rather than Durmstrang. Father wanted me to go there, but I refused. Mostly because all the people I knew before Hogwarts were going there. I never told him, I can't believe that I never told him. It's only now that I remember. I don't believe this. I wasn't strong enough to tellhim why I cried myself to sleep every night for three years.
We'd been together for three years this week. Oh god, the best way to celebrate our three year anniversary. He watched me bleed and then waited for me in the hospital. He never knew. He never got my note. I forgot to leave it out for him. How useless am I? I can't even die properly.
(POV CHANGE)
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
I remembered the first time I found him. He was bleeding, and crying, sobs racking his frail body. He was shaking uncontrollably; his tight shirt clung to his form because it was wet, not because it was too small. I thought he was gorgeous, even then when he was at his worst moment. But I never realized.
I went to him, and he didn't push me away like he should have done. I was his worst enemy for god's sake, and he wanted me to pity him. But I didn't, I loved him. I took him to the Room, we stayed together that night.
I found him bleeding. Does he remember? His arms were red, garish in the dawn light, and they shone like the tears in his eyes. I held him as he wept, and comforted him as I healed his wounds. I kissed him then. Our first kiss. I won't ever forget it. We spent the day together; in the Room, talking, keeping each other company. He told me about himself, his childhood, his lifestyle, how he was raised.
But you still have
All of me
We did more than talk though, does he remember? When the lunch bell went, we conjured up some food. He seemed like a different person then; happier, more alive. I kissed him again, and he led from that. He took everything, and I gave him all of me.
You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
I loved him from the day I first had a decent conversation with him. It was a few weeks before I found him, but I loved him because he could be him. He didn't need to put on a disguise because he was in front of others who would think wrongly of him. No, he was himself, one hundred percent, all on display for me to take as my own.
And I did. But you know, the thing that captivated me most next to his personality was his hair. It seemed to glow, giving him a light of his own. And more often than not, we lay there, on one of our beds. Just lay there. I would stroke his hair, and he liked it. He made it clear that was what he liked most when he showed me afterwards. But now, I'm forgetting how it felt.
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
I can't remember, love. I'm forgetting what he looked like, what he smelt like. He was replaced with a shell of himself by the end. I didn't notice until I found him. I held him then, and I wept because I had lost him. I tried to remember what he used to look like, before he dyed his hair. It was blond, I remember. It matchedhis eyes. I remember that much. But, when I looked that night, more than a week ago, I could have sworn his eyes were brown. Not the icy grey they should have been. He changed so much, and now I've forgotten who he was.
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me
I remember his voice. It was one thing that didn't change. I heard it when he screamed in ecstasy and I heard it when he laughed. I remember how it sounded when he was screaming, his back arched in agony, his eyes clenched shut, his nails digging into his palms leaving little half-moon marks there, two or three of them bleeding, mixing with the blood running from his wrists.
His voice drove me over the edge, screaming my name and begging me to scream his. I did, I loved his voice. It made me feel special, and it made me feel like the worst thing on the planet. And now I've forgotten.
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
I haven't forgotten the moment they told me. I was waiting in the relative's room. I should have been with him, but they said he wasn't stable enough. They were right. They came to see me and I knew. Instantly I knew. I don't know how, I wasn't even an accomplished Leglimens.
They told me he had gone.He had been bleeding almost constantly for a week, on and off; they said that they couldn't have healed him. They couldn't stop him dying and that was their job! They had let him leave me, and they didn't even try to save him.
They said they couldn't; but I didn't believe them. How could I? He had killed himself, slowly, painful not only for him, but for me as well.
He broke my heart the day he left me. I died that day with him; I was just a relic of myself after he had gone. I kept trying to remember the last time I heard him laugh: I couldn't even remember hearing him chuckle, giggle, force a laugh. Nothing.
I can remember seeing him covered in blood, his own blood. I wanted to add my own blood to his, to let the bloods mix, the only thing that we hadn't mixed. I didn't, I couldn't. I remember thinking about how he had the guts to do that to himself. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I didn't have the courage. I kept being told I was very brave, but I wasn't. I know I wasn't. I wanted to be, but I just wasn't.
He had scared me more than anything, more than Voldemort, more than the deaths of those I loved. He scared me more because I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone. That love never left, it grew more as he slipped away from me. I felt my heart break and I knew what I had to do.
(POV CHANGE)
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held him as he had held me. He cried as I had cried. He helped me though I didn't deserve it. When he slept he dreamt, evil dreams, nightmares.
I remember. I remember that I held him as he dreamt. He never told me what he dreamt about; but I knew. There was only one thing that could make him scream as loudly as he did, and that was me. I know that he saw me when I was at my worst and he remembered that.
He held me when I bled and I held him when he wept. I wiped his tears away and driedhis eyes. I held him as he dreamed, and wished I could help him. The only way I knew how to help was to wake him. So I did. I woke him and kept him company the best way I knew.
He enjoyed it; I know he did. The times he screamed my name as he came, the times he made me scream his. It was amazing. But I had to leave. It wasn't enough to protect me. In a way, he made it worse. I don't blame him, of course I don't. I was too weak to deal with the abuse, but he kept me there longer than anyone.
They were right, you know. I was like that, but they couldn't have known. Everyone that did were past boyfriends, and they had just used me. They had used me and thrown me away. That's what I expected him to do. But he didn't.
He kept me and looked after me. And I loved him. I told him, time and time again. I truly loved him, not just a friendly love, or something slightly deeper. No, this was true love. I felt like he was my soul mate. I knew he was. I promised him…but no, he never read it.He should have read it, but I didn't leave it out for him.
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
(BREAK)
(POV CHANGE)
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
I sat there, trying to believe. His headstone read like a poem that he had written.He was always writing, pieces of poetry, little songs. I loved them, another thing I loved about him.
I sat there, not caring that my cloak was getting muddy. I wasn't going to be using it anymore anyway. I didn't want anyone else, I wanted him back. I wanted my soul mate back.
I found it, you know. It was hidden, but I found it. He should have known that I would go into his room, even though he never used it anymore.
Or did he not leave it out on purpose? Did he want me to forget him? To never know why he did it? Was he scared of what I would do? Well, I did it. I took away what I tried to give to him.
I hope someone found this.
(POV CHANGE)
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
He lay there like, spread eagled and cold. He looked peaceful, as if he was just sleeping. You could have mistaken him for being unconscious until you looked closer and saw the colour of his wrists. They were stained with the red of his blood and it had poured out onto the white headstone in front of him, leaving a mark there.
A few days later, another tombstone was erected next to the first. This one was black, with gold writing on it. The first had been left stained because the blood could not be removed. Or so they said.
Letters and flowers were placed on both tombs. Cards, notes, toys. They were littered with messages from the wizarding world and the Muggle world.
The messages were simple, yet they could not be compared with what was on the headstones of the two lovers who had died within a year of each other.
A note had been left by them; written on one piece of paper, two styles of handwriting signified that two people had left the notes.
Harry,
I am sorry but I can't do this anymore. Thank you for your support and I wish I could be with you. I promise that you did everything you could but I had made up my mind. You just kept me sane for three years. I love you like no one else could.
Yours forever, Draco.
To who ever has found this,
Bury me here, so I can be with him forever.
Thank you, Harry Potter.