Pairing:Potter/Malfoy
Disclaimer: I own nothing, though I still want to own them. Sorry, you can't sue, I'm worth nothing!
Author: CriesOfTheFallen
Summary: Harry had always needed Draco. He was the air he breathed and part of him that kept him sane. A part of him couldn't accept that he was gone. Still, he mourned.
He didn't think of him. Didn't think of the way his face would set in a frown when he would come home with a new wound. He didn't think of the relief in his eyes, of the gratitude he saw in them. He thought only of his radiant smile, of the warmth and the love he gave him. He reveled in those memories, in the moments that brought him so much joy. And now, sorrow. Harry had always needed Draco. He was the air he breathed and part of him that kept him sane. A part of him couldn't accept that he was gone. Still, he thought of the irony of it all. His beautiful dragon had always worried about him, about his safety. He would sit up until he got home no matter how late it was or how much work he had to do the next day. All he cared for was that Harry came home to him. All he prayed for was that it would be his lover, and not another Unspeakable, that came to him. And Harry loved him for that. For that and so much more. He loved the adorable way he would scrunch up his brows when he was concentrating, and the way he would raise an eye brow at him and say so much with that simple gesture. He loved the way he would crawl into bed with him after a long day and hold him. He wouldn't say anything, wouldn't push him to talk about the things he saw, the things he did. He merely accepted that there were things Harry just didn't want to talk about just then, or ever. When he was ready though, Draco would listen. He would hold him in his arms and run his long, graceful fingers through his hair. And when he cried, he rocked him to sleep, whispering anything and everything to sooth him. It was the understanding that always brought him to his knees. There was nothing he wouldn't do, nothing he wouldn't give for Draco.
He only wished he'd been more careful in hiding this from the outside world. He had been away on a small assignment and due back home after four long, stressful days. When he apparated in, he knew something was wrong. Draco had always, always been at the door waiting for him when he got back. He was always there. Always. His first thought was Draco had finally realized he was worth so much more, that Harry wasn't worth the effort. He thought that Draco had left him. As he'd entered the kitchen, the sight of blood spattered all over the floor filled him with a cold dread. He rushed through the house searching for him, part of him hoping someone had come and taken Draco to get help. But he knew better. He knew no one would dare intrude on the great Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, the Malfoy heir. He checked their room last.
There he was, on their bed. He lay as if asleep in a crimson bed. It was his blood that had seeped into the sheets. He'd been arranged so that his hands were folded in his stomach, a single white lily in his hands. He had rushed to his side, refusing to belief that his dragon, his angel, was dead. He'd checked his heartbeat, tried a myriad of spells to try and give Draco back his life. He had failed utterly. He remembered panicking and taking Draco into his arms and flooing to Saint Mungos. He also remembered them taking him from his arms and taking him to a room. But it was too late. He was hours, hours, too late. He'd broken down.
He took Draco home with him, kept him locked up in their room. Hermione and Ron had the house cleaned while he had been gone. He'd refused to let Draco go, cradling him in his arms, just as Draco had held him all those nights. They had to stun him, to knock him out to take Draco's body to be prepared to be buried. When he woke up he was dressed for the funeral. Hours after they'd laid his body down into the ground he sat before his grave. Through pouring rain he sat and sat and sat. he waited for someone to come and tell him it was all a joke, a mistake, that it wasn't real. No one ever came.
It was Kingsley that finally got him to go home. They had a lead on Draco's killer. He was a magical serial killer, his signature was a single white lily placed in his victim's hands. The Gardener, they called him, just because he used lilies, that and other flowers around their bodies. He'd gone straight to work on hunting the bastard down. It had been this same man he'd been hunting during the time Draco was killed. He knew he'd been used as an example, mess with me and I'll kill the one you love. If the great Harry Potter couldn't protect his husband, what could you possibly do to protects you loved ones?
It had taken months, months of sleepless nights and endless drunken stupors to find him. He knew that Draco had known the killer. Their home was highly protected, only someone that was invited into the premises could pass the wards. When he'd found out who had killed Draco he flew into a rage. How could he. How? After everything Draco had done to keep him out of Azkaban; After Draco had helped him get his life back. When he finally tracked the son of a bitch down, he had spared him no mercy. Draco had been killed by his best friend, Blaise Zabini. He tortured him for days, and what was worse? He enjoyed it. He'd done it before, tortured people for information but he had never enjoyed it. He had done it to save lives because he had to. But in those few days, he had immersed himself in the dark satisfaction it brought him. He had also failed to inform anyone that he knew the identity of the Gardener.
When he had first arrived he asked him why? He just had to know. I knew with you on the case they would finally find me. After all these years I wasn't going to get caught. So I took a gamble. I knew Draco was your life, so I took him from you. It was a shame really, he'd still be alive if you had listened to him and retired. So you see, it's all your fault. And so he began to make him scream. What cut him the most was knowing Zabini was right. Draco had been begging him to stop, to quit as and Unspeakable and become an Auror. It was a lot less dangerous than being and Unspeakable. But he had ignored Draco at first until he had finally relented, promising to retire as an Unspeakable after he sold the Gardener case. It really was his fault.
When Zabini's body died out, I left back home, I wrote a few letters to those I still cared enough to think about. I sent a message to Kingsley on Zabini's location and left. I activated the Manor's primary defense. The Manor disappeared from view, untraceable. I wasn't running from what I'd done. I was merely separating myself from the rest of the world. And now, now I wait. I sit in our room looking at the sun rise and waiting. Waiting for my love to come to me and lead me to where ever it is people go when they move on.
I'm waiting for you my love.
Tada! A new story for you guys. This is my coming back one-shot-thingy-party. Yay for all you guys that have been waiting for me to update. Well anyways, now that I have some time on my hands, please note the some, I'll be updating Redemption and Atire. Sound good? Cool, I'll be updating soon. Although I wouldn't bank on soon soon type of thing, you know? So anyways, hope you like this little one shot that's been bugging the hell outta me and choking me until I consented to its murderous urges and wrote it down for you guys. Oh, and I still don't have beta, so if din't catch anything, I'm sorry. Thanks for reading,
CriesOfTheFallen