AN: I do not own these characters. I have no idea why I wrote this, but it needed out, so out it came.

Mercy.

You wanted to talk to muggles, Harry. To show them things they never understood before, and when Hogwarts introduced a new class, you were the new professor.

I understand now that you had a horrible childhood, full of abuse and neglect.

Slowly, I have been trying to piece this together, becoming more and more friendly with you as time goes by.

You've been shy, timid about my advances, and yet it was sweet to me. To see you opening up in a way that no one else has truly seen. Yes, perhaps that harlot Cho Chang had been the first to kiss you, but did she make you shiver with anticipation like I do when I whisper in your ear, my voice husky from naughty thoughts of what I want to do with you? Did she, or anyone else for that matter manage to set your blood ablaze with a kiss like I have? You never had to say it Harry. I was there, pressed up against your supple body, and I could feel your temperature flare beneath my fingertips, your heart pumping as you decided whether to fight or flee.

I could never decide if it was you or your reactions that were more beautiful, so I had to settle for taking both. You were so beautiful in bed, and I was willing to marry you. I had even bought the ring.

But then school came to a close and you told your muggle students to bring something with them next year to show and tell. Something common, you told them. Excitedly, they had left school, and I continued seducing you, both into my bed and in your heart.

On your birthday, I asked, kneeling in front of the Weasley gang, to show I was serious, and I asked you if you would marry me. I presented a silver ring with a ruby, the whole thing charmed to look like a feline, for your beloved Gryffindor house. You were speechless, and I held my breath, but you uttered the smallest word of acceptance, and I was elated. The Weasleys looked shocked, and that was fine enough with me. We were going to marry on Christmas, your best present of all, and they were so excited. Of course I had Hogwarts booked as the chapel in which we would solidify our union. Just for you. Always for you.

And so another school year began, and we were at the top of our game, never better and full of excitement. And the second year muggle-borns came, already enrolled in your class, boasting all their trinkets. A week went by and then you had them show-and-tell, as you called it.

That Monday was fateful, and I hate Mondays now. Sept. 15th it was. Charlie Heath was the child that did it. Charlie brought a gun to school, and he told the first year wizards it was something 'cool'. I myself had never known what it was, why should I have?

You tried to get him to put it away, but he thought he was being funny, and then he pulled the trigger. All I heard was a loud crack while I was waiting for your class to be over, since my classes were only in the evenings. I was going to jump you and take you into our room during our free period. But all I heard was that loud crack.

At first I thought it was some sort of child's toy, though my stomach told me otherwise. You were a good man, always doing what was asked, going above and beyond. You went to a school you never thought possible, you earned great marks, and you've even gotten the gold a few times. But when you taught at school that day, you never said goodbye. We never thought we would have to, and now I am trying not to cry. I know you didn't want to go, but that little bastard hit you and another, and all because he got that fucking gun from his older Death Eater brother.

He'd been one of the lowest class in Voldemort's ranks. See what I did? Called him by name, and only for you.

I told Lupin, Molly, Arthur and the others that you wanted them to know you loved them too, and very much. You told me you were sorry we couldn't make our Saturday date, I told you to shut up until Pomfrey could get here. You made her take the child first, and that was a mistake.

I am the only one now.

That little bastard shot you in the artery and her in the head, and while Pomfrey was looking her over, you were almost dead. You'll be waiting for me now, but not too long I fear, and for now you'll be reunited with those who once held you dear.

I let your friends know that they were the best for you, putting up with everything, for you, and that you spoke kindly of them in your last few minutes.

You always used to say that you weren't the first to do something new, and that you're no better than the rest. But you were, you are the first and last to warm my heart. I'll tell the teachers, the students that you won't be in to class, and no, I did not forgive or let it pass. How could I? You know me better than that.

You didn't deserve it, it wasn't fair. You left without a kiss, and even though Pomfrey really did try, she was crying, because she didn't know what to do. She was a genius with magical wounds and afflictions, but the muggle gunshot stumped her and killed you. And the last thing you said to me, I was so glad to hear from you,

"Draco, I love you..."

This is your eulogy, and forgive me please, but I killed that Death Eater and his brother. I knew I would rot in Azkaban, so I left Hermione and Ron my entire namesake. My money, my land, my title. I came down here to your gravesite with a gun. I pull the trigger, and oh god, but it does hurt.

I lie down on the earth above you, and bleed out.

Soon, Harry. Soon.