Warnings: None really, there may well be one or two grammatical or spelling errors that my computer and I failed to spot, and it is slash.
Disclaimer: It would seem quite obvious that I have no actual legal hold over any of the characters or places mentioned. The people or places are not mine. J.K.Rowling owns all. Possibly even me.
A Moment in Time
He stood at the edge of the cliff for a long time. He watched the waves crash and break on the rocks below; an endless battle where the rock would erode, the water would endure. Thousands of years before that would happen, thousands of years for the strong to break and crumble.
The smell of the salt in the air and the cold whip of the wind against his skin and clothes drew him away from himself. He closed his eyes, stretched out his arms and just basked in the sensation of the elements, of being alive, even if just for one small ludicrous moment of freedom. The push and pull of the wind; the roar of the sea, the rustle of the grass and the groaning of the trees.
The day dimmed, the storm grew; the sky darkened quicker than normal, an angry slash of orange and red above the horizon was the only part of light that broke through the cloud. He sighed and it felt like the air had been ripped from his lungs. He didn't want to have to be like this. But fate had taken a dislike to him, twisting his hand to make many an unfavourable choice.
His eyes stung and he wasn't sure if it was because of the elements on the outside or the emotions within. His legs buckled, he fell to his knees and his hands dug deep into the soil, he braced himself against the tidal wave that surged with in.
His breath hissed sharply between gritted teeth. His body tensed. He could not – would not - give in to weakness. He bit his lip against a wail that ricocheted within his ribs. He shouldn't have been here.
"What are you doing out here?" The voice fractured his dark thoughts and brought him sharply into the real and now. Harry had come to find him.
"The celebrations…" He said, his voice dry he had to stop to lick his lips "It just seems wrong for me to be there"
"It wasn't your fault" Harry said suddenly, as if he could read his mind.
"Wasn't it?" Draco spat, scowling at the ground. He knew fine well that it was.
"No" His voice was closer; he could feel the radiation of heat from the others body as he kneeled down beside him. Obstinately he turned his head away. Out to sea, far from land.
"It really wasn't" Harry's voice was quiet, and the wind almost tore the words away before they could reach his ears, but reach him they did.
'It was' He thought 'It fucking well was, and you know that as well as I' He didn't say that. He just clenched his jaw and hoped that if he ignored him for long enough, he'd give up and just go away.
The uncomfortably comfortable presence at his side stayed there. He decided to make it go away. "Do you know" He said softly, so Harry had to lean closer to hear him "How many lives have been lost because of me?"
There was an uncomfortable pause, he left it for a moment, but before Harry could respond he continued, "How many people could have died?"
"Its not…you shouldn't think like that" Harry's voice was mumbled, Draco shot through it.
"Shouldn't I? Why don't you?" He said, wrapping his arms around his legs drawing them closer to his chest. "Why don't you hate me anymore?" He was shocked by the anguish in his voice. Because why should his feelings mean anything?
"Because" He said and then stopped, he sighed and he could hear him ruffling his hair with his hands. Again his pushed onwards, before Harry could build some sort of excuse, find some sort of reason.
"I nearly killed your best friend" His voice was bland and devoid of emotion "I brought the Death Eaters to the school; I was the one that sealed Dumbledore's fate." He turned to face him now "I would have sold your life for one minute of favour at His side"
Harry's face was flushed with anger, and his eyes flashed dangerously behind his round, unfashionable spectacles. But that expression faded and he looked determined; like a bloodhound that had caught the scent of his prey. Draco shivered and it was definitely nothing to do with the weather.
"Would you do that now?" He asked his voice cracked with emotion.
"No" He said and shook his head "I couldn't" And that one admission out loud took everything out of him.
An arm latched around his waist; he didn't protest and allowed himself to be drawn closer, lips pressed briefly against his forehead, before moving closer to his ear. Eight words. Eight simple words broke him in an instant.
"I don't hate you because I love you"