Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, places aren't mine, song isn't mine... I OWN NOTHING.
Inspired by Good Bye My Almost Lover, an cmv I found on youtube...
Summery: This is a short au one-shot about what if Harry and Draco had really been friends all that time... And could have been something more? The Order and the Death Eaters have a fight in the front courtyard of Hogwarts, and Sirius ends up killing Draco...
Two raised voices are heard, and a messenger scrambles to reach the old man and his charge in time.
"YOU ARE NOT GOING!"
"But this is important!"
"You belong here!"
"HARRY! HARRY! You have to get out there! Draco is down!"
Nobody knew why, but Colin had been assigned to watch over the blond, and had been too happy to oblige, knowing he would not be hurt... He had underestimated the forces of the Order.
Harry flew from the room, not even pausing a glance at Dumbledore. He lept down flight after flight of stairs, finally reaching the courtyard where Slytherins were standing guard.
"DRACO!"
He shoved through them, pushing Pansy aside and taking Draco's hand in his own.
The smaller boy was a mess, covered in blood and cuts, and his eyes were drooping.
"H-harry?" He coughed out quietly.
"Shh-shh, don't talk." Tears streamed down Harry's face. "Go get a healer!" He snapped at Pansy, who whisked away.
The battle had stopped, the Order member who had cut down the boy staring in shock and horror. Sirius didn't understand... Harry hated this boy! He had been bullied by him sense forever... The reason he had been Sirius' main target.
"Harry, they're not... Going to get in here in time."
"No! You'll be fine Draco, please, you'll be fine." His wand was forgotten, and he gathered the blond into his arms, pressing his lips down in a kiss. "Please." Tears fell onto Draco's face, mingling with his own.
"..." Something was murmured. Then he coughed and tried again.
"I love you."
Quiet. So quiet. Too quiet.
"I love you too." Harry finally sobbed out, gripping him tightly as his heart understood that he was losing his secret, his best friend, the first person he could have really loved...
Pansy returned, and seeing Draco limp in Harry's arms, began to cry as well. "We were too late." She whispered.
Days later, Harry sat, staring out at nothing. He was by the lake, near the edge.
Two invisible people sat on either side of him, both wishing desperately they could talk to him, one not for the first time, and the other far more then anyone could imagine.
Draco, in death the same as he had when he died, reached out, tried to take his hand, tried to kiss the tears his heart was crying away, tried to comfort him, to say that he was their for him.
James, in death the same as when he had died, watched and waited. He knew that Draco's attempts were fruitless, but wished for them to be nothing but true. He was here for his son's first love, and it broke his heart. Draco wrapped his arms around him, sobbing into his ear. "I'm so sorry. I love you. I love you. Please hear me, Harry. Please.'' James gently pulled him away, before they were forced to remain their invisibly forever.
A month later, Harry had not spoken a word. He had not cried sense the first night, when he had done nothing but cry. He saw nothing, ate only when he was tied down and force-fed, and slept little. When he did, his thoughts were haunted with images of what could have been, of what he should of said, of what he should have done.
His life shattered when his broken god father, unable to bear what he had done, came to him, fell to his knees before his godson, and cried his confession.
He begged forgiveness, pleaded how he would have protected the boy with his life if he had known what Draco had meant to him...
The words fell on deaf ears, until: "I killed him, Harry."
Harry blinked, and for the first time, he Saw something that was in front of him. His gaze turned to the man in front of him. "What?" The word was mouthed. He couldn't speak.
"I'm so sorry! I wouldn't have-I didn't know!"
Harry's eyes hardened, and his transformation began.
From then on-he ate, he plotted, he spent his every moment planning. He no longer could concentrate on what Could have happened, or what Should have happened... He worked on fixing it.
And that is the story that, with emotionless eyes and monotone voice, The-Boy-Who-Lived spoke to The Dark Lord, in his own chambers. He asked for only two things.
"Kill me. Or let me join you."