Harry had been waiting there for a long time. A very long time.
He stood there, unblinking, afraid that if he did blink he would miss him. Afraid that if he did blink, he would let the tears fall.
So, stoically, he stood. Still as a statue; only on occasion would a wracking heave shudder through his aching lungs. Only on occasion would his emotions break through.
It was dark now. Harry's heart sunk. He should have been here by now… he should be here.
But he's not.
He felt anger, yes; but also loss, agonizing loss. For Harry knew what it meant if Draco didn't show. He knew what the consequences were.
Not that he really cared about the consequences.
They had warned him; they had said that he would betray him. Harry pushed the voices of people he had once called friends down. They were wrong.
They're all liars!
They had left him after he had been… discovered. They thought he was only a tool to be used in the battle against Voldemort. They thought he could be used.
I am not a tool.
And so he had run. He had run far away, so far that at last, the only voice he could hear was Draco's. And for a time, it was bliss.
Utter bliss.
But then they had been found; found by the one he thought he could call friend.
Found by Lupin.
Harry cursed the day he ever met the man. Lupin was the one who had ripped him away from Draco. It would be his fault if Harry never saw Draco again.
Harry felt his leg twitch in spite of itself; he sighed heavily and began to walk away. Every step was like a dagger in his heart. Every step created more anguish than the world would ever know.
Where are you?
Suddenly, there was a fluttering in Harry's peripheral vision. An owl.
A black owl, with a gold streak down its face. Draco's owl.
Harry's heart soared. This was it, this is the answer-
The owl stuck out its leg; attached to it was a letter. Harry snatched at it greedily and tore it open.
At first the letter gave him such comfort, to know that Draco still cared-
But then… then it gave way to despair…
Harry,
I love you.
I have always loved you. I will always love you.
That aside, if you are reading this letter, I am, most probably, dead. Now, don't cry- these last few months have been amazing. Truly, Harry; without you, I would be but a shadow, lost.
I don't want you to go after my killer, so I will not tell you who it is. Trust me, this is for the best.
Go back to your friends, Harry. They still love you, deep down. They haven't forgotten.
And remember me.
Draco
A deafening cry erupted from Harry's open mouth. It was filled with pain, sorrow, and agony… It was filled with the love that was now forever lost.
I will remember. I will.
Harry dropped the letter in the wet grass beneath his feet. Then, with tears streaking his face, he left.
He was broken at last.