If I owned Harry Potter, why would I be writing fanfiction? Oh, and the lyrics below belong to Linkin Park.
In the End
Tamaska Forsaken
Draco Malfoy stared blankly around him. He had just entered 12 Grimmauld Place for the first time in his life, and now he was torn between regret and subdued joy that he had. This is where he had been. This was his place.
Harry.
Hermione Granger put a comforting hand on his shoulder and led him up the stairs. They past several doors and the elf-heads on the walls. Hermione stopped in front of the fifth door on the left and pushed the door open and stood to the side, gesturing for him to enter. He met her eyes briefly, and upon seeing compassion in their tawny depths, seized her into a bone crushing hug. She kissed his forehead and nudged him toward the door.
He entered the room alone, feeling the imminent threat of tears prickling behind his eyes. This was the place that he had lived up until the day he had died. The place he had slept, had dreamed, had shouted, had loved….
Draco sat on the bed that had Harry's school trunk at the end. He heard the slow breath of Phineas Nigellus, even though his portrait was empty. He curled up on Harry's bed, trying his best to stifle his tears.
"You bloody wanker! You told me you wouldn't leave me!" Draco whispered into Harry's pillow, his hands clenched into fists. A sharp corner jutted into his cheek and he pulled a slim black volume from under the pillow with the letters 'JP' on the front cover. He opened it to the first page and found a neat inscription, informing him that Lily Evans loved James Potter and would love him forever. The next page had a journal entry, dated in the late nineteen-eighties, with the announcement of Baby Harry's birth. The script was familiar, but different. It had a slightly different slant, while Harry's handwriting bore a resemblance to Hermione Granger's.
He turned to the last entry in the book. As he turned the pages a small photo fell out. Draco's heart clenched as he saw himself and Harry in a passionate embrace, both smiling into the camera. He remembered that day clearly. It was Harry's seventeenth birthday, the day that he tried to kill Voldemort, and the day that thay'd shared their first kiss.
Their last, as well.
Harry had been torn from Draco's arms by the cruel whims of Fate, and then Lady Death decided that she had to have him for her collection.
But the true cruelty was that Lady Death had rejected Draco.
He looked at the page where the photo had fallen out. In Harry's untidy scrawl was a poem, hastily scribbled.
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There's only one thing you should know
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
What didn't matter? Did this mean he'd known he was going to die? That a death sentence for Voldemort extended to himself as well?
Draco smiled ruefully. That was Harry, the perpetual martyr.
Draco pulled out his wand and drew it down his left forearm, the one that had once borne the Dark Mark. It left a crimson line in its wake and he did the same to his other arm.
He brought the picture to his lips and kissed Harry's face.
The Prince of Serpents smiled and buried his head in Harry's pillow, tears running down his face at the prospect of reuniting with his Prince of Cats.
"And thus with a kiss I die."
Author's Note: This is my first go at a fanfiction, though I've enjoyed other people's fanfics for a long time. The 'peom' is the song "In the End," by Linkin Park. It was the inspiration for this fic, and one of my favorite songs.