His hands were clenched into fists at his side, as if he was restraining himself from punching someone. In reality, though, he had no fight left in him. If he was angry at anyone, wanted to hurt anybody, it would only be himself. How had it gotten to this? He had begun to take for granted that it was a miracle, started to feel like it was a part of his life- something he deserved. He wasted no energy keeping in the bitter laugh that painted a sourness across the now empty corridor.

Happiness was something that he didn't deserve. Maybe once upon a time he had tricked himself into thinking that he could have it, but he knew now, it wasn't something wasted on someone so vile, so worthless as him. His heart was breaking, as he knew inside all along.

He couldn't help but remember every moment of them together. Running his hands through his ever growing hair, opening his eyes and seeing deep into his, trailing his fingers down his arm before he would have to leave, the way he would kiss him when he knew that it would be a while before their next stolen hour. It was a magic they had never been taught, a spell that only Nev knew. He wished... His eyes closed tight, and he collapsed face first into the wall, holding himself up.

Why did he have to be him? Why couldn't he be someone more free? Someone with a choice? With a chance? He loathed himself with a icey, firey passion. It was almost painful. Everything everyone knew about him- it was all a lie. He put on masks, built walls, made himself see the way he was supposed to be seen, let himself be drug into his family's destiny. He was Malfoy, Slytherin King. But when he was with him... He was different. He was just Draco, the way that he had always wanted to be, the boy he hid.

But Neville knew, he knew it all. He knew how he looked when he first woke up, he knew the look in eyes when he was trying to dodge a confrontation. He knew how much he hated the him people had created, knew how afraid he was to get rid of it. He knew his love of music, his self doubts, his hatred of potions. He knew absolutely everything about the him he longed to be.

He knew he loved him.

But he was gone now. In a matter of minutes, he had left, walked out of his life, looking forward, leaving him alone and dying. His voice had been shaking, emotional, but strong.

"It's Voldemort or me."

It had been an easy choice. He answered right away. He would give up anything, anything at all for him. But "It's too late" he had said, shaking his head. "You made your choice a long time ago. You wouldn't back out now."

With all he had known, how had he not realized how wrong he was. He had protested brokenly, but it was clear nothing would change the answer he had assumed.

He could feel the hand had been placed tenderly on his own and the whisper of "I love you" was swimming around his head in melancholy patterns.

"I could change. I would do it for you- I would do anything."

"I wouldn't ask it."

"You wouldn't have to. I love you."

"No. No, Draco."

"No?"

"You can't change for me. By doing it last year- by even considering killing him, you decided everything. You became someone. I didn't care, you were still mine. But you've already changed- for good. And now it matters."

The silence had been long and strangling. He wanted to be swallowed by it, die and appear in a new life where he none of this would have happened.

"I love you too," Neville had said softly after a second, looking as if he were holding back tears. "But it... We... I'm sorry. I wish-"

"I do too."

He had brought his face close, and merely rested it on his own, mixing their hair together in the process. His eyes were the eyes of a man, a man who had made a hard decision to better the earth. It killed him.

And then he had disappeared.

Without him... He would die. He was his home, his soul, his medicine. And he was gone.

It was almost too big a shock- he couldn't really get it through his head that it was real. But it was true. Nev had left him.

And he would fight to change.

To give him a reason for a second chance.

To make his love matter.

To get him bac