Title: Finally
Author: Sweet Sorrow
Category: Books, Harry Potter, Draco/Harry, Angst/Drama
Spoilers: None
Rating: K+
Summary: 'He sighed and snuggled close to the stiff body. "We can finally be together," he whispered."' Draco/Harry; One-Shot; Read and Review!
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, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., INC. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author Notes: Even though this will spoil the story a little bit, I need to warn you: this is a deathfic. It is sad. It is angsty and it is not, in the least bit, happy. I hope this was worth your time though! And as always, please review. Enjoy!

Finally

By: Sweet Sorrow

The room was silent, though full of people. Eyes were downcast, and cloaks were ruffled. No one spoke because no one dared to, and no one wanted to.

"We finally did it," Albus Dumbledore whispered, breaking the tense silence. "Harry, you finally did it."

The room shuffled around, and everyone looked at the raven-haired man sitting on the couch between Ginny and Hermione. His head rested on Hermione's shoulder, and his eyes were half closed.

"Yeah, Harry, great battle you did there. You sure showed Old Voldy who was boss, eh?" Tonks said, hoping to lighten the mood. A few chuckled nervously, but eventually, silence settled in again. No one spoke for a few more minutes, and no one moved.

Harry didn't want to be there anymore.

He got up and walked towards the front door of Grimwauld Place. He took his broom in his hand, and weighed it slightly.

Firebolt, it shined. It was the same broom that Sirius gave him years ago, and it was the only broom that Harry trusted. He looked back at the room, and found that everyone was starring at him, as if waiting for an act of God. Without another word, he walked through the door, mounted his broom, and flew away.

In a few minutes, he arrived at his destination. Somehow, with his mind away from flying, he still managed to get to where he wanted to be. He landed softly on the ground, tossed his broom aside, and looked around. Everywhere was piled with bodies, bodies of Death Eaters, to be exact. The setting sun made them seem like they were glowing, as if their spirits were finally leaving, ridding the Earth of evil. The wind blew gently into Harry's hair as he squinted his eyes, scanning the horizons.

He found it. Harry found the tree.

Broom forgotten on the ground, Harry walked briskly towards the tree. As he drew near, he saw the still figure lying in the shade. Harry's breath stopped, and he saw the blonde hair tainted with the deep red of blood. When he stopped, his feet touched the blonde's still body, and he knelt down to touch him.

Shaky fingers marveled at the softness of the blonde's skin.

"I want to tell you something, if you may let me. Will you let me?" Harry murmured.

He waited.

"Well, you're not answering right now, but that's alright. I'll tell you anyways, and I hope that it's what you want to hear."

He raised his head, skin dirty from sweat. Harry looked around, and noticed that he was alone, but he didn't mind. He needed to be alone for now. When he spoke, his voice was no louder than a whisper.

"It's been on my mind for years. Years and years, though you may not have known it or have even noticed it. I noticed though, at least for me."

He looked down at the blonde's face.

"Every time you walked by me, I would stop breathing. Then as soon as you'd leave, I'd take a deep breath, hoping to catch even a small whiff of you," he confessed. "I think it was cinnamon and spices, like Christmas. I'm sure you already know this, but it took me a while before I could put my finger on it. But now I know, and I know because I've remembered it. And I've remembered it because … well, don't get scared okay? I've kept this from you for so long already …"

Harry paused for a bit, and then smiled sadly.

"I love you."

As if the still figure heard him and reacted, Harry jumped back, almost wanting to laugh, almost wanting to cry.

"I know, I know! Impossible, right? How could I, Harry James Potter, love you? Total opposites, different houses – it just simply wouldn't be, right? That's what I thought too until I found myself picking fights with you just to watch your grey eyes change colors."

Harry looked down at the closed eyes, and sighed.

"I knew they changed colors because I would stare at them the entire time we'd bicker. First they would be stone grey, but as soon as I pushed the right buttons, they'd slowly turn into a flaming silver, bright with passion, bright with fire."

The young man shifted around, and sat down against the tree trunk. He pulled the person to his lap, and the blonde head rested heavily against Harry's tired legs.

"I wanted to see them light up, even if it was out of hate. Of course, that's what I thought until I learned why you always reacted the way you did. I remember everything about our fights: the way the pink flush on your cheeks would clash delicately with your ivory complexion. Your voice would be low and sultry, almost growling, almost grunting, almost moaning."

A tear fell from Harry's eye, and it dropped onto the blonde. It left a noticeable trail, and Harry traced it with his calloused fingers.

"It was hard not to touch you. I guess that's why my friends were always there. Ron's grip on my arm always left bruises, but not because he wanted to hurt me. No, no … it was because my desire would be too much, and the only way to stop me was his fingernails digging into my forearm."

Absently, Harry had began touching his arms, and, with a sudden burst of memory, he dug his own fingernails into his skin, scratching it, drawing blood. He wanted to cry, but no, no, he can't do this now; He had a confession to make. The blood fell onto the matted grass.

"You want to know something strange?"

No answer again.

"Our passionate fights, I'd turn into passionate sex in my head. Your body above mine, toned muscles glistening with a lighter layer of sweat – you'd glow, and your eyebrows would be furrowed in pleasure, and your concentration would be completely and totally on me."

Harry put his head against the tree and closed his eyes.

"I'd moan your name, and you'd whisper mine. 'Harry … Harry …' you'd say, and all I could do was moan into your neck. Then we'd come together, our bodies rocking in rhythm, and it'd feel amazing, almost like flying."

Harry opened his eyes, and touched his neck with his hand.

"But then I'd open my eyes, and see only darkness and feel only emptiness in my bed. I'd be completely dressed with a large stain on my pants, and I'd feel like I couldn't breathe, mad at myself for doing it again, for dreaming of you again. I wanted you so much, but you never wanted me or even cared about me."

"I made a promise to myself a couple years back. It was after one of our more passionate encounters, and I had come back to my dormitory, eyes bright with satisfaction and heart pounding loudly in my chest."

Harry smiled to himself at the memory.

"You had touched me."

The raven-haired man chuckled slightly to himself.

"Well, you more grabbed me and shoved me with an unimaginable force. Then you proceeded to punch me, but Ron hexed you first … in a way, I'm a little angry at him for doing that. Who knows where our fight would have led to, you know?"

The sun was dropping lower and lower into the sky. It would be dark soon.

"I always knew you were the Ice King of Slytherin, but I'd never expect you to be so warm. All of my fantasies, you were heatless, but I think that's because we'd all assume you were just cold. But when you touched me, when you put your hand on my arm, did you feel it? The spark? The intensity?"

Harry waited for an answer, but got only frogs croaking in a nearby pond. Like a song of sadness, the crickets joined in, and Harry's own heart beat to the rhythm.

"I felt it. I'm sure you did too, because your eyes suddenly grew wide, and I saw it. Clear as day, and I saw it."

"You loved me, too."

Harry closed his eyes again and wished, and wished, but he didn't know what he was wishing for.

"I don't know why you never told me. Maybe it was your dignity. Maybe it was your pride. We just continued our own ways, roaming the halls of Hogwarts, afraid to be near each other, afraid to be too far away."

"Bickering became a constant, and even in the halls alone at night, we'd still bicker. Sometimes, I can see your eyes light up, and I see the desire. You wanted to kiss me, and I wanted to kiss you, too. I don't know why we didn't. I think something was holding you back, and holding me back. I think we were just scared."

Harry stroked the blonde's cheeks, and traced his delicate eyebrow, picking away at the dried blood and clumping dirt.

"But I was never lost without you because you were always with me. Your love was always with me, even if you never said it. I know you loved me though, I know. I know because you showed me."

Harry grabbed the blonde's hand, and interlocked their fingers. Even with the limp hand, Harry could not be any happier.

"The rose your owl delivered to me on Valentine's Day, the ring on my birthday, the glances here and there, the sneaky touches between classes … you told me in your own little ways."

"But you didn't need to, love. You didn't need to, and I don't know why you felt like you needed you. I already knew it, don't you see?"

Harry felt himself shaking with regret and sorrow. He let go of the hand, and it fell onto the ground with a soft thud.

"Why did you do it, Draco? Why?" Harry sobbed. "You didn't need to prove your love for me because I already knew! I already knew, god damnit!"

"But you did it anyways. You took the curse for me."

With his face in his hands, Harry cried. He cried for himself, he cried for his friends, he cried for Draco … he cried for love. He suddenly looked up, face wet and glowing with tears. His green eyes were bright with determination.

"I promised myself long ago that I would be with you wherever you went. That was a promise I said I'd keep, no matter what, because I need you. I need you because I love you, more than anything in the world.

And here's our chance."

Harry gently pushed Draco aside, and knelt above him. His eyes searched for any type of life, but saw nothing but death and sacrifice. He ran his hands through Draco's hair, savoring the musty feel of dirt, blood, and hair blended together. Delicately, not wanting to break the angel lying in front of him, he touched the pink lips closed with silence.

"We'd never kissed before, love."

Time stopped for Harry, and he lowered himself slowly. He pressed his warm lips against Draco's. He felt no pressure returned to him, and felt no warmth going through his body. Draco's lips were soft, but cold.

Harry's hot tears rolled off of Draco's face, and he knew that it was time. He pulled Draco's arm out, and laid his head on it, wrapping his own arm around the blonde's waist. He sighed, and snuggled close to the stiff body.

"We can finally be together," he whispered.

Taking his wand out, and putting it below his chin, Harry looked up at Draco, and smiled.

"Avada Kedavra."

Finis.

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