Title: My Last Breath
Author: Dracavia
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Originally Posted On: 25 April 2006
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: This story is set post HBP and therefore has SPOLIERS. They're minor spoilers as far as I can see, but they're there nonetheless.
Genre: Apparently I've created a new one entitled "Fluffy Deathfic"... Wasn't what I intended, but that's the description given to me by all three of my betas/pre-readers.
Beta type people: Corcalamus, Saya & Lish
Summary: "With the foreboding feeling had come a realization, when he reached his goal it would be the end. The end of the war, of his enemy, of the one he was searching for, or his own end, which one he wasn't sure, but he knew it was an ending."
Author's Notes: This story was begun nearly two years ago, but set aside for various reasons. I blame this ficlet on listening to my Evanescence CD too many times in a row while at work in the state park toll booths the summer of '04. The title is also taken from one of their songs.

Surprisingly it took very little tweaking to make the story work with the cannon of HBP, and so I agreed to finish it when the boys decided it was time their story was finally told. Of course they could have picked a better time than 3 weeks before commencement, when I should have been working on my 20 page term paper… but what are ya gonna do?

He pulled the cloak closer around him, making sure he was completely invisible as he slunk through the shadows of the dungeons. He'd gone through three levels already as he followed his locator spell and had yet to reach his goal. He'd had to work his way through layers of wards… wards that almost seemed too easy to get through considering this was supposed to be the most fiercely guarded stronghold of his enemies. He'd met no other resistance beside the wards, the fortress seeming deserted… it was almost as thought they wanted him to reach his goal.

A dark shiver of cold finality passed over him, at it any lesser man would have turned tail and run, but he continued on more determined than ever. With the foreboding feeling had come a realization, when he reached his goal it would be the end. The end of the war, of his enemy, of the one he was searching for, or his own end, which one he wasn't sure, but he knew it was an ending.

~*~ Flashback ~*~

"Why Potter, whatever is the pride and joy of the wizarding world doing in a dark corner of a shady pub on this fine autumn night?"

Harry looked up from his glass of Firewhiskey into taunting silver blue eyes. That Malfoy was here wasn't all that surprising, Harry had picked this pub because it was in one of the remote pockets of England that the war seemed to forget about. Members from either side of the war could often be seen in such places, but usually they avoided members of the opposing side like the plague. "What do you want Malfoy?" answered the weary voice. "I just want to be left alone to get pissed in peace."

The blonde man seemed briefly surprised at the lack of open hostility aimed towards him, the two were on opposite sides of a war after all and surely Potter had instructions to capture him? After a brief pause a thoughtful expression reached his face and he spoke, taunt no longer present in his voice. "Budge over Potter, since we have the same goal we might as well get drunk together."

Harry looked suspiciously through his somewhat already inebriated haze at the man standing before him.

With an exasperated sigh Draco spoke, "For Merlin's sake Potter, I'm not going to try to kill you… Off the clock right now you know," he finished with a poor attempt at humour.

A wry smile crossed Harry's lips as he slid over in the booth. Neither said another word the rest of the night except to order more drinks.

Come morning the two awoke side-by-side in one of the pub's shabby rooms. Memories of the night were hazy at best, but both knew with certainty what had happened and both felt a strange sense of relief, like when one releases a spring that's been wound too tight.

Both men dressed in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. When they were finally ready to leave, neither spoke a word and they parted with a brief nod.

Two weeks later they met again… and then again… and again… Neither ever contacted the other, somehow they just seemed to know when the time was right to meet. Few words were spoken and they liked it that way.

Six months after their first meeting that rule of silence was broken. In the brief moments before they passed into sleep, Draco bemoaned the stupidity of his comrades… and let slip a vital piece of one of their plans.

As the weeks passed with this new pattern, Harry wondered if Draco realized just how much information he was letting slip and if it was intentional, for invariably there was always a scrap of information in Draco's brief rants that he could use, either for his own personal safety or in his hunt for the horcruxes. Draco never said anything that could be considered a blatant betrayal, if one didn't count the fact that it was Harry Potter he was saying it to, but there was always something there, something that would nudge Harry in the right direction.

Harry's question was answered when he received a brief message by owl late one summer evening.

~H.

Get out of your flat NOW!

If you value your life, you'll do as I've told you.

~D.

Harry knew he should be suspicious of the note, but it didn't tell him where to go so the likelihood of it being a trap seemed small and he felt an urgent need to trust it.

Draco's note proved to be reliable, as only moments after Harry apparated away, the wards on the flat were set off by dozens of Death Eaters attempting to gain entrance.

The next time they met nothing was said about the note or the near capture. There was, however, something different between the two. No longer were the meetings simply about getting drunk and a frantic coupling afterwards. Tenderness that was previously absent slowly appeared, and more often then not bodies were tangled together upon waking.

As before, few words were spoken, except for a now mutual exchange of information. Never was anything told that would not personally benefit the other. An unspoken agreement to keep each other safe was the only reason for the exchange, and neither seemed to truly waver in their alliance to their side.

Ron and Hermione discovered the secret affair when they followed Harry to the shabby pub late one winter evening. Yet another threat had been made against Harry's life and, in worry about the way he seemed not to care, the two were assigned to watch him.

They confronted their friend the next morning. When Harry could not tell them that Draco had switched sides, or give any other satisfactory reason for the continued meetings with the blonde – whom Harry should technically be capturing and turning in, as they pointed out – Ron and Hermione tried to convince him to stop the liaisons, vehemently voicing their disapproval. In the end they gave in and agreed to keep their friend's secret, adding that 'Malfoy' would receive no special treatment from them.

Harry knew Ron and Hermione were the reason he hadn't been informed when The Order found out Draco had been imprisoned by Voldemort for leaking information. The Order members that got the information assumed it was simply a frame-up as part of intra-Death Eater politics, as they all knew Malfoy wasn't on their side. When Ron and Hermione heard the information they did their best to keep Harry from finding out, content to let Voldemort take care of their 'problem' for them.

About a week after The Order got word of Draco's imprisonment, Seamus Finnegan mentioned it to Harry, thinking the other man already had heard. Harry was furious with his friends, he knew they were doing what they thought was best for both him and The Order, but if anything happened to Draco he'd never forgive them. Harry couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but somewhere in their more than a year of meeting together, Draco had become vitally important to him, and life without the blonde man in it was unfathomable.

Harry knew regardless of what connection he might share wit the blonde, The Order wouldn't help rescue Draco. Intelligence suggested that the younger Malfoy was imprisoned in the depths of Voldemort's stronghold and the mission would be far too dangerous to undertake to save someone who wasn't even one of their own. If Harry wanted to save Draco, he was on his own.

~*~ End Flashback ~*~

The locator spell finally stopped in front of a iron and wood door, five levels deep in the dungeons. Harry tried to see into the cell through the small barred opening, but it was pitch black inside. Listening carefully, he heard shallow, ragged breaths that hurt his chest just to listen to.

There were a number of wards on the door, but just as with the other wards in the fortress Harry made quick work of getting through them and stepping inside the cell.

"Lumos," he whispered and searched the room with the dim light of his wand. In the far corner Harry saw a figure curled up on a pile of old straw. Approaching the apparently sleeping figure slowly, he called out softly, "Draco?"

As Harry reached the figure's side, the gaunt man laying there awoke. "Who's there?" asked a hoarse voice. "If it's you Wormtail, I already told you, you might as well kill me because I won't betray Harry," he added defiantly.

Harry's chest constricted, despite whatever torture he had gone through, Draco was loyal to him. "Draco, it's not Wormtail, it's me, Harry."

"Harry?" the voice was hopeful and disbelieving all at the same time. "This better not be a trick…"

"It's no trick Draco, I came to get you out of here," Harry gently laid a hand upon his lover's shoulder and carefully rolled him over, only to gasp at what met his eyes. Every inch of exposed skin was bruised, cut or burned, and once vibrant silver eyes stared back a dull, sightless grey. "Oh Draco," he whispered sadly.

"Harry, you shouldn't have come here," Draco whispered hoarsely, "I'm beyond saving, there's no way I could stand, let alone walk out of here with you."

"I got to you Draco, and now I'm going to get you out. Stop talking like that," he grasped the blonde's hand tightly in his own.

"I'm glad I could hear your voice once more before I die, but if you made it this far then it's because the Dark Lord wanted you to. There'll be a trap waiting for you. Now leave before it's too late."

Harry's voice was fierce with conviction, "I won't leave you behind!"

Draco slowly raised his free hand, running it up Harry's arm until it reached the side of his face, his voice was affectionate. "You always were a fool…"

From behind Harry came the last voice either man wanted to hear. "You should have listened to young Malfoy, Potter. Of course I knew you would come eventually, what better bait then you're traitorous lover?" the words were cold and sibilant.

Slowly Harry stood and turned, facing Voldemort with a grim resolution in his eyes. "Rather bold don't you think, taking me on yourself when I've managed to destroy all of your horcruxes but one? And we both know Nagini is never far from you…"

Voldemort's expression grew enraged at the taunts, "Sheer luck on your part, and stupidity on the part of servants who have since been dealt with." The rage turned into something cold and frightening as Voldemort's lips curled into a macabre parody of a smile. "The deaths of you and your little lover shall do nicely to begin creating my horcruxes once more."

Harry raised his wand, his hand and voice unwavering, "If I die, I'm taking you with me."

"We shall see about that," was Voldemort's hissed reply, and the cell burst into vivid light as spells began to fly.

Hours later, when word finally reached The Order of a large explosion in the Scottish highlands, far north of Hogwarts, they knew it must be Voldemort's stronghold. Cautiously a small group of Order members were sent to determine if the ancient keep was still standing.

It was obvious to the members as they drew near that the stone fortress was gone, bits were thrown far from where the building once stood, the ground scorched from magic. A slight hum hung in the air of powerful spells not long ago cast.

The small group reached the crater that was once the dungeons of the fortress and carefully picked their way down into it, looking for any sign of survivors. Upon reaching the epicenter of the blast they stared in shock. While it appeared that every other inhabitant of the fortress had escaped or been turned to ash, there, on the only uncharred patch of ground in the whole complex lay two young men, curled tightly around one another. They were naked as the day they were born, perfect, unblemished skin exposed for all to see. The stark contrast of blonde corn silk against messy raven locks, creamy skin against tan, was breath taking. The pair looked as though they were but sleeping in the midst of the carnage surrounding them.

Three days later, while the world rejoiced at the final and permanent defeat of the dreaded Dark Lord, a simple ceremony was held in a peaceful graveyard outside the small town of Godric's Hallow. Above the pair of freshly filled graves was a single tombstone, and below the two names on the stone were the following simple words:

"United in death as they couldn't be in life, their love saved us all."

-fin-