A/N: This is not a happy ending. I'd like to warn you before you read this that there is a suicide and that the content can be very triggering. That being said, there is no sexual content, no slash, and very little cursing.

Please do not read this if you think the content will be triggering for you.


They'd been at each other's throats all year. Headmistress McGonagall had tried to do something nice for all the returning students for their "eighth year", as people had taken to calling it. When they'd returned, they were told that instead of rejoining their common rooms, they'd be getting private rooms to share with only one other person. Like the first Sorting, the Sorting Hat was placed on each of their heads and it called out a name of who they'd be best suitable roommates with, but for the second time in his life, the Sorting Hat's first choice was wrong, only this time, it had made its choice while atop Malfoy's head instead of his.

It was nearing the winter hols now, and Harry should be used the to constant tortures of the Malfoy heir. Hell, in the beginning, he'd even returned them. But he was done. Finished. He didn't care anymore. He hadn't for a while. Instead, this numb feeling had sort of seeped into his bones.

But now Malfoy had taken it too far. Small parchments were being passed about, all with the same photos on them - Harry in embarrassing states: nightmaring, staring absently at nothing with tears rolling down his face, repeatedly slamming his fist into walls until his fingers were broken and bloody and he had to go see Madam Pomfrey yet again. They all held the same caption: The Boy Who Fell Apart.

Harry could feel the goblet in his hand starting to dent, his new, strengthened magic helping his hands to crush it. Headmistress McGonagall was descending the professors' raised dais to see was all the hushed giggles and the fuss was about. Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he saw Malfoy get up, alone, smirking.

His goblet shattered, shards flying everywhere, and the Headmistress changed her direction, heading for him now. When she was halfway down the table he pushed back from it, still ignoring the stunned looks his friends sent him. They never saw him lose control anymore. He never let them.

He followed Malfoy up a flight of stairs. "Come with me," he said as he brushed past.

"And why should I?" Malfoy sneered. When he got no response, he raised his voice, "Oi! Potter! Why should I?"

Harry did not slow his stride, nor raise his voice, calling back, "Because I'll do this with or without you there, but I want you to see what you've done."

Curious and slightly disappointed at Potter's lack of response, Draco followed him. When they'd passed the hall to their chambers on the fifth floor, he began to get nervous. Still, Potter did not turn to see if he was following, did not say anything, did not slow his stride.

Only when they rounded the corner the the spiralling staircase did Draco realise where they were going.

"Why are we going up to the Astronomy Tower?" When he got no response again, he reached out to grab Potter by the shoulder, but Potter was moving too quickly and all he got was a sliver of robe. Potter did not slow his stride. "Potter?"

Draco was starting to think of turning back, but he'd already come all this way. Besides, not that he'd ever admit it, he was starting to get worried. "Potter?"

But Potter was already swinging open the door to the top, letting it catch in the wind and fling back. He walked to the far side of the balcony before turning back to Draco for the first time. That's when Draco realised Potter was crying, slow, silent tears dripping down his face.

"Why are we here?" Draco whispered.

"Why? Why? I'll tell you why. Do you know what happened here? I'll bet you'll never forget. This is where you couldn't kill him. This is where you became too cowardly. But it's too late to be a coward now, Malfoy, there's no turning back."

"Potter, what are you talking about?" Potter was pacing now. His movements quick and fragmented, as if they were only half finished before being forgotten.

Harry swallowed, the numbness sinking into his bones so deep it was an ache. Maybe the Sorting Hat wasn't wrong. His purpose was finished, maybe this was what was supposed to happen, "You know. You know. You know. You know. You-"

"Potter, you're scaring me," Malfoy took a slow step forward, voice calm, like he should have approached Buckbeak.

Potter barked out a laugh, half the sound getting taken by the wind, half the sound mad. Draco knew he should go get help. He knew it, but he couldn't leave Potter in this state.

"I know. I know I'm scaring you. I can see it in your eyes. You always were a coward," Draco didn't even flinch at the accusation; it was true, and he had other things to worry about now. "You meant it as a joke. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Fell Apart. But now you're seeing that it isn't a joke. It's not. You know. But maybe you don't." He took a step back as Draco took one forward, "But you will."

Silence passed for a heartbeat before Harry suddenly screamed, "I tried so hard! All I wanted was to fit in! And you couldn't even let me have that! I never wanted this! I never wanted any of it! Take it! Take it, damn you!" In a blink, Harry was calm again. "You know what happened up here, and you know what's going to happen. You failed once, but you won't this time. You know it, but you won't admit it to yourself. You know what I'm going to do. And it's all. Your. Fault."

Draco rushed forwards then, but he was too late. His hands clutched around empty air as his boyhood rival tipped over the railing on the edge of the balcony. The Savior of the Wizarding World took flight, lying flat on his back, wind whipping at his robes. The Chosen One kissed his fate as his body kissed the ground, bright eyes piercing Draco from where he watched on helplessly. The Boy Who Lived died broken where his mentor had nearly two years ago.


A/N: Please let me know what you think!

-faceless