Draco sits huddled atop the ledge in the dark corridor, staring out the window into the night. It is raining. Droplets run down the panes of glass, blurring the grounds beyond. The window's smooth surface is cool against his skin where his arm and shoulder meet it. The stone beneath him is rough against his bare feet. He releases a long, slow breath, feeling his entire body fill with the stress, the exhaustion, the sorrow that he, with that breath, is finally owning up to. There are footsteps from behind him, coming down the hall, but he doesn't turn. A hand rests on his shoulder.
"I thought I might find you here," a gentle voice mumbles. The hand on his shoulder is joined by one—equally as warm—against his cheek, turning his face away from the window. Silver-blue eyes meet emerald green and a sad smile crosses the lips of the dark-haired boy before him. "Can't sleep?"
Draco shakes his head. "They're out there, Harry," he says softly. "Voldemort, my father. They're out there, and they're searching for us both. We don't stand a chance." Harry sighs and sits down on the floor, his back against the stone wall. The fingers of one hand thread through Draco's and tug him gently down to the floor with him. Once the blonde is seated beside him, Harry wraps his arms around the Slytherin and rests their heads together.
"You're stronger than you think, Draco." He knows the blonde doesn't fear for Harry's own safety. The Gryffindor is destined for victory. Draco's own fate, however, is not so certain. "We'll survive this war—both of us. I promise you that."
"And if we don't?" comes the whispered response. "I want to be more than this, Harry. I've dreamt of it, of being with you forever. I want a life with you after Hogwarts. If they find me, that won't be possible."
"Always thinking of the future," Harry says softly. "You never look at what's right here in front of you. We're here, we're together. We're in love. How can it be any better than this?"
"Do you, Draco Orion Malfoy, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, as long as you both shall live?"
With a smile comes the steady, sure reply. "I do." A silver band slides smoothly onto a tanned finger. Kingsley Shacklebolt, newly appointed Minster of Magic, turns to the brunette.
"Do you, Harry James—" A hand stops him.
"I've…I've written my own vows, Kingsley, if it's alright." Steady words without the slightest hint of nervousness. Harry's confidence has increased dramatically since his first days at Hogwarts. Kingsley nods and Harry's emerald eyes lock on Draco's silver ones. "Draco Orion Malfoy, you are the love of my life. You are the strength that keeps me walking and the hope that keeps me trusting. You're the light to my soul. You are my purpose. For now and forever, you are all that I want and all that I need. You're everything to me. I am marrying the man of my dreams, my one true love. How could it be any better than this? I love you. I will always love you, until the day I die. I take you as my husband, as my lover, my life." A matching silver band slips easily onto Draco's hand and the sight is blurred by tears of happiness.
Draco barely waits for Kingsley to utter the final words—"You may seal your union with a kiss"—before his lips are pressed firmly over Harry's. The applause is lost to the two men enraptured with each other.
Draco barely makes it out of the living room before he breaks down, dropping to his knees in the middle of their bedroom floor as the breath is stolen from him and his shoulders heave with the force of his sobs. He hears the door open behind him, the sounds of the dozens of voices and laughter he's left behind filling the room for a short moment before it closes again and drops back to silence. Someone kneels beside him, arms wrapping over one shoulder and around his ribs to hold him back against a warm, familiar chest.
"It's alright, love," Harry whispers, his breath warm on Draco's neck. "It's all going to be alright." Draco shakes his head, pulling out of Harry's embrace and forcing himself to his feet. He rounds on his husband, eyes a mixture of fear, pain, and anger.
"How can you say that?" he exclaims. "How can you keep saying that everything's going to be alright?" He gestures to the door. "How can they go on laughing and carrying on as though nothing's wrong? As though you're not…" His voice breaks and he gasps for air as more tears make their way down his cheeks. "I'm losing you," he whispers desperately. "You're going to leave me and there's nothing I can do to stop it, nothing I can do to fix it."
Harry stands, moving forward and reaching out to wipe the tears from Draco's face. "You're not supposed to," he replies softly. "No one is. It was meant to be this way. The Weasley's are just trying to make the best of things, to enjoy what little time we have left as much as they can before it's gone. Surely you want to do the same, hm?" Draco lets out a soft sob, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist—it's thinner than it used to be and the once toned muscles are disappearing—and burying his face in the former Gryffindor's neck.
"I don't want it to end," he mumbles. Harry strokes soft blonde hair, dropping a kiss to Draco's temple.
"I know, love. But everything good comes to an end, you know? I'll always be with you." His hand rests flat against the blonde's chest, the palm covering his heart. "Right here. Forever." Draco pulls back slightly, looking into Harry's eyes.
"How can I stand here and not be moved by you? You take my breath away," he says after a long moment. He presses their lips together in a gentle kiss. When they pull back, Harry is smiling.
"How could it be any better than this?"
It's raining. The drops patter softly against the window, a fitting soundtrack to the somber gathering within the hospital room. Close friends and family stand about the room, giving space to the couple on the bed. One lies weakly beneath the blankets, the last of his strength nearly gone. The other sits at his side, pale hands fighting to stay steady as they hold their lover's hand for what they know will be the last time.
Harry smiles faintly, tiredly up at the blonde. "It's time," he whispers softly, his throat dry. Draco's eyes close briefly as he fights back tears. "Draco…" Silver-blue eyes open once more to meet the once-vibrant green. "I love you." Draco smiles slightly, fighting back tears.
"I love you, too. So much," he replies. Harry's eyes move slowly around the room, taking in the sight of Ron and Hermione, the Weasleys, Blaise and Pansy, Luna and Neville. All are there to say goodbye. His eyes come back to Draco and he smiles again.
"I'm leaving surrounded by everyone I love. How could it be any better than this?" Draco knows how he wants to answer—'You could be staying instead of going'—but he doesn't say it. He keeps silent and only smiles, shrugging slightly. A hand raises and presses itself to the blonde's cheek. Draco's hand comes up to cover it, pressing it more firmly against his skin as his eyes close. "Draco…" Harry's voice is fading. "My love…forever." The hand beneath Draco's, normally so warm, begins to grow cold. He hears Harry take a last shuddering breath, and then there's nothing but the rain against the windows.
Draco presses his lips to Harry's palm. "I love you," he whispers, tears starting to make their way down his cheeks. "Forever. You're everything. My everything."
Draco stands at a grave, a rose in hand. He kneels, places the crimson bloom before the headstone and pauses to let his fingers trail across the name engraved within the stone: Harry James Potter, Beloved Husband and Friend. "I love you, Harry James Potter," he whispers. "For now and forever. You always will be my everything."
Author Note
Inspired by Lifehouse's "Everything". Credit to them for the lyrics used within.