Title: Decay
Author: silvestra
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco, implied Remus/Sirius
Rating: R
A/N: Yay, I am back in the Potter-fandom! This is the first Harry/Draco-piece I've written in a LONG time, so bear with me.
Warnings: angst, post-slash, character death.
Spoilers: OotP

Harry holds the rose in his hand, delicately and carefully, afraid it will break. It's nearly dead already, petals half dry and leaves falling off. He touches one of the thorns and makes a face when it stings a bit.

He puts the rose back on the table, leaning against the cold stone wall behind him. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, hurting and painful because he's been awake for the last three days. He still can't get it - can't get it why it was Draco who had to go.

Harry hates himself for not being there early enough. Draco was barely breathing when Harry reached them, Draco's hands and face were paler than usually and his eyes were tired cold. The depth in his eyes had disappeared and all Harry saw in them was his reflection. Harry stared at himself through Draco's eyes and saw a failed guardian angel.

Draco was an infatuation that came like a sugar rush - starting as an intoxicating sensation, that made your insides whirl around and made you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach, and made you giggle and fool around - and afterwards it made you sick, as if you had too much in a short period of time, and then you realise that it was just an infatuation among others.

oOoOo

Whenever Harry gets reminded of Draco, he turns to Remus. Remus makes him a cup of tea and sits down opposite Harry, looking into his eyes and speaking softly. His voice is always soft and calm, as if nothing ever bothered him.

Still, when Harry looks into Remus' eyes, he sees the constant longing for the one Remus once loved, the craving for another person's gentle touch, the passion for more than just a one night stand, when you both are drunk and just want to get laid.

"I can't say that I was surprised when I heard about you and Malfoy," Remus said when Harry first told him that Draco and him had been lovers. Harry just smiled sadly and brought the teacup to his lips, taking a sip of the hot tea.

"He was one-of-a-kind," Harry said shortly, putting the teacup down. "A beautiful creature, made to betray and step on your toes when you're trying to move forward." Harry paused for a while and touched his scar with his right thumb, the same finger that Draco had used to touch that same scar, when they had first made love.

"If he was just an infatuation, why is it so hard to accept that he's gone?" Harry asked, staring at Remus and waiting for his response. Remus scratched his chin and let out a deep sigh.

"That was how I first felt about Sirius, Harry," he replied, saying no more and putting his cup on the table. Harry continued looking at him and waited for him to say something, anything, to clear up the strange situation Harry had put himself in.

"It's time for you to go now," Remus finally said and Harry could swear he saw tears glimmering in his eyes. Harry merely nodded.

"Thanks for the tea."

oOoOo

"Happy Valentine's Day," Draco had whispered, handing Harry a red rose and kissing him. Harry had blushed slightly, breathed in the scent of the rose.

"Thank you," he had said. "I'll never get rid of it." Draco had smiled.

"You couldn't, even if you wanted. The rose has a spell on it, it only starts dying if I die." Harry had looked at Draco, admired that beautiful face, and inside he was screaming and laughing in joy.

"Thank you," Harry had repeated, red colour covering his cheeks.

"It's beautiful, isn't it," Draco had said, looking at the perfect colour of the rose, how the flower blossomed and seemed to warm up the atmosphere and brighten everyone up. Harry had nodded.

"I love you," Harry had muttered in Draco's ear later that evening, when Draco had fucked him against a wall in the dungeons. But Draco hadn't heard.

If Harry had known that the rose would start decaying sooner than he thought, he would have shouted those three words, painted them on the walls, written them on a parchment and enchanted them to flow in the air, only for Draco to see.

But Harry never had the chance to tell Draco.

oOoOo

The next evening Harry visits Draco's grave, reading the gravestone inscription again and again.

Draco Lucius Malfoy. 1980-1997.

No 'Rest in Piece'. No memoriam. Nothing. No flowers.

And so Harry places the decayed rose on the grave, finally saying it out loud:

"I love you, Draco."

-fin-