"God, Potter, you're a freaking celibate. Get a life."
Harry Potter deliberately ignored the voice and instead stared down at the mug on top of the table, stirring the black coffee inside absent-mindedly. He was feeling very bad today, and the other man's remarks were not helping at all.
"I mean, come on! Who was your last one? That Patil woman last year? And where is she now? Married. Not a happy ending, isn't it?"
"That was a mistake." Harry responded, defiance crystal by the tone. "I was drunk and so was she. You know it was a mistake, Malfoy."
Draco grinned playfully, and had this been another day with Harry not feeling awful, he would've been alarmed. A smile like this would not have been easily displayed by the elegant Malfoy. Especially at these times. It would've been too open, too optimistic. No, he knew Malfoy for his taunting – always smirking, mocking. Definitely not this playful, not this enthusiastic.
But then again, the smile was perfect. Befitting. Natural.
"Yes, I suppose so. But she enjoyed it. I could hear her desire-filled moans from the outside of your room." He chuckled and swept his grey eyes upon Harry. "And the noise you made was deafening. I never knew you could be such a sick, perverted prat."
"Shut up," said Harry, eyes cast downward again, letting his dark, unkempt hair shield his face. An ivory hand held his mug tight, trembling in suppressed anger, almost spilling the contents.
Draco's smile was suddenly wiped off his face, immediately replaced with the trademark smirk as he walked gracefully across the room to seat himself on the chair, directly in front of Harry. He crossed his arms and stared hard at Harry's crouched form, mercurial eyes flashing with dislike. "Look at you," he sneered, lips curling up into a malicious smile. "You look like you've spent your days in hell." He wrinkled his nose in disdain, but still rather delicately. "Sweet mother of Merlin, when was the last time you took a bath?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't remember. Two, three days ago?"
Draco let a smirk grace his pale face yet again. "Well, you stink, Potter – with that I mean figuratively and literally. Do you even know what having a fashion sense means? Your hair is not supposed to be that greasy. It's worse than Professor Snape's – not that I'm insulting the man, of course. And dark circles under your eyes don't make your face light up, Potter, no, you look absolutely horrific! Ten years older! And your broomstick is actually looking better than your figure. Ever heard of food?"
Harry looked unaffected and instead managed to form a bitter smile. "And here I was thinking you were never capable of caring. My apologies, Malfoy."
Draco opened his mouth, ready to give a retort but then, Harry met his gaze, a blazing stare, making him look away instead. "I'm not. You're pathetic."
Harry's face hardened as he glared at Draco. Draco, in turn, tried to look indifferent, though he had sensed Harry's dangerous mood, one that wasn't uncommon any longer, but one, through all these years, he head never grown accustomed to. "I seem to recall," Stated Harry softly, "that you made me pathetic.
Draco hesitated for a moment, but quickly hid it with a sneer. "How touching, Potter." His silver orbs darkened. "Move on."
Harry stood up suddenly, his face a mask of terrifying fury. "Oh, that's easy for you to say, isn't it?" he spat, the deepest loathing ringing in each syllable. "You're not on the receiving end of the situation! You're not the one who has to live every single day without the only person whom your life was worth living for! This pain is excruciating, you know that goddamn well. Because you want to die yourself, to be able to release yourself from the burden, but you can't Malfoy, you can't, because there are a lot of people who're still expecting so much from you. And though you say you really don't give a damn about being their hero, you just can't leave everything behind because you know had he been in your position, he would still continue living, even though he was being murdered inside." Harry trembled with anger, trying very hard not to let the warm liquid building up inside his eyes fall. "It's a fine show of mockery, Malfoy, this reality. Because you know you can't pull yourself out of it."
There was a different emotion in Draco's eyes now, as he looked at Harry. Something akin to guilt. And he was not expecting it. "It's been over a year, Harry," he said, a consoling tone in his voice. "It's over. You have to move on." It was startling to hear this words coming out from his mouth. Yet, for a queer reason, he meant every word.
Harry sank down into his chair and buried his face in his hands. "You left me all alone, Draco. You left so suddenly, at those crucial times I needed you the most. I hate you, do you know that? I hate you for making me feel this much pain." This time the tears had fallen and he wasn't going to stop them. "I don't deserve this. Why did you have to save me?!?"
Draco closed his eyes as the memories ignited fiercely on his mind. The green light making its way towards Harry. The Dark Lord laughing triumphantly. And Draco, Draco throwing his body in front of his lover, receiving the curse. And then...
"You have to let me go, Harry. You have to put a stop to this." There was a sense of urgency in Draco's voice now, as he looked at Harry. "Now."
The door suddenly opened and a lady with shoulder-length brown hair walked into the kitchen. She looked perplexed as she surveyed the room. "Harry? Who were you talking to?"
"Draco," Harry replied, standing up and wiping his tears as he glanced at his friend. "Why are you here, Hermione?"
Hermione looked distracted as she answered. "I just thought I should see you. You know, you really don't look... Ron's worried that you're..."Her head suddenly shot up, an anxious look on her face. "Draco?" she asked, apprehensive. "But, Harry, you know he's – "
"– right here." And Harry turned back to the table, green eyes expectant, positive of what he would see.
But the kitchen was deserted. Staring back at him was an empty kitchen. Draco was gone.
Harry screamed and opened his eyes to robed wizards holding him forcefully down on a hospital bed, the emblazoned crossed wand and bone on their chest slowly fading away as he was made to drink a Sleeping Draught, making his body go limp, making him stop his thrashing, muffling his screams.
He was fading.
Fading.
But he could still hear Draco's voice. His whispers.
"I told you to let me go, didn't I? Now you're trapped in your mind. Forever. You should've forgotten me."
"But I love you Harry. And you'll be with me. In the dark. Here in your mind."
Forever.
Forever.
fin
Harry Potter deliberately ignored the voice and instead stared down at the mug on top of the table, stirring the black coffee inside absent-mindedly. He was feeling very bad today, and the other man's remarks were not helping at all.
"I mean, come on! Who was your last one? That Patil woman last year? And where is she now? Married. Not a happy ending, isn't it?"
"That was a mistake." Harry responded, defiance crystal by the tone. "I was drunk and so was she. You know it was a mistake, Malfoy."
Draco grinned playfully, and had this been another day with Harry not feeling awful, he would've been alarmed. A smile like this would not have been easily displayed by the elegant Malfoy. Especially at these times. It would've been too open, too optimistic. No, he knew Malfoy for his taunting – always smirking, mocking. Definitely not this playful, not this enthusiastic.
But then again, the smile was perfect. Befitting. Natural.
"Yes, I suppose so. But she enjoyed it. I could hear her desire-filled moans from the outside of your room." He chuckled and swept his grey eyes upon Harry. "And the noise you made was deafening. I never knew you could be such a sick, perverted prat."
"Shut up," said Harry, eyes cast downward again, letting his dark, unkempt hair shield his face. An ivory hand held his mug tight, trembling in suppressed anger, almost spilling the contents.
Draco's smile was suddenly wiped off his face, immediately replaced with the trademark smirk as he walked gracefully across the room to seat himself on the chair, directly in front of Harry. He crossed his arms and stared hard at Harry's crouched form, mercurial eyes flashing with dislike. "Look at you," he sneered, lips curling up into a malicious smile. "You look like you've spent your days in hell." He wrinkled his nose in disdain, but still rather delicately. "Sweet mother of Merlin, when was the last time you took a bath?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't remember. Two, three days ago?"
Draco let a smirk grace his pale face yet again. "Well, you stink, Potter – with that I mean figuratively and literally. Do you even know what having a fashion sense means? Your hair is not supposed to be that greasy. It's worse than Professor Snape's – not that I'm insulting the man, of course. And dark circles under your eyes don't make your face light up, Potter, no, you look absolutely horrific! Ten years older! And your broomstick is actually looking better than your figure. Ever heard of food?"
Harry looked unaffected and instead managed to form a bitter smile. "And here I was thinking you were never capable of caring. My apologies, Malfoy."
Draco opened his mouth, ready to give a retort but then, Harry met his gaze, a blazing stare, making him look away instead. "I'm not. You're pathetic."
Harry's face hardened as he glared at Draco. Draco, in turn, tried to look indifferent, though he had sensed Harry's dangerous mood, one that wasn't uncommon any longer, but one, through all these years, he head never grown accustomed to. "I seem to recall," Stated Harry softly, "that you made me pathetic.
Draco hesitated for a moment, but quickly hid it with a sneer. "How touching, Potter." His silver orbs darkened. "Move on."
Harry stood up suddenly, his face a mask of terrifying fury. "Oh, that's easy for you to say, isn't it?" he spat, the deepest loathing ringing in each syllable. "You're not on the receiving end of the situation! You're not the one who has to live every single day without the only person whom your life was worth living for! This pain is excruciating, you know that goddamn well. Because you want to die yourself, to be able to release yourself from the burden, but you can't Malfoy, you can't, because there are a lot of people who're still expecting so much from you. And though you say you really don't give a damn about being their hero, you just can't leave everything behind because you know had he been in your position, he would still continue living, even though he was being murdered inside." Harry trembled with anger, trying very hard not to let the warm liquid building up inside his eyes fall. "It's a fine show of mockery, Malfoy, this reality. Because you know you can't pull yourself out of it."
There was a different emotion in Draco's eyes now, as he looked at Harry. Something akin to guilt. And he was not expecting it. "It's been over a year, Harry," he said, a consoling tone in his voice. "It's over. You have to move on." It was startling to hear this words coming out from his mouth. Yet, for a queer reason, he meant every word.
Harry sank down into his chair and buried his face in his hands. "You left me all alone, Draco. You left so suddenly, at those crucial times I needed you the most. I hate you, do you know that? I hate you for making me feel this much pain." This time the tears had fallen and he wasn't going to stop them. "I don't deserve this. Why did you have to save me?!?"
Draco closed his eyes as the memories ignited fiercely on his mind. The green light making its way towards Harry. The Dark Lord laughing triumphantly. And Draco, Draco throwing his body in front of his lover, receiving the curse. And then...
"You have to let me go, Harry. You have to put a stop to this." There was a sense of urgency in Draco's voice now, as he looked at Harry. "Now."
The door suddenly opened and a lady with shoulder-length brown hair walked into the kitchen. She looked perplexed as she surveyed the room. "Harry? Who were you talking to?"
"Draco," Harry replied, standing up and wiping his tears as he glanced at his friend. "Why are you here, Hermione?"
Hermione looked distracted as she answered. "I just thought I should see you. You know, you really don't look... Ron's worried that you're..."Her head suddenly shot up, an anxious look on her face. "Draco?" she asked, apprehensive. "But, Harry, you know he's – "
"– right here." And Harry turned back to the table, green eyes expectant, positive of what he would see.
But the kitchen was deserted. Staring back at him was an empty kitchen. Draco was gone.
Harry screamed and opened his eyes to robed wizards holding him forcefully down on a hospital bed, the emblazoned crossed wand and bone on their chest slowly fading away as he was made to drink a Sleeping Draught, making his body go limp, making him stop his thrashing, muffling his screams.
He was fading.
Fading.
But he could still hear Draco's voice. His whispers.
"I told you to let me go, didn't I? Now you're trapped in your mind. Forever. You should've forgotten me."
"But I love you Harry. And you'll be with me. In the dark. Here in your mind."
Forever.
Forever.
fin