Title: Leaving

Author: Jane Delight

Warnings: slash

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

Summary: HPDM slash. One-shot. Standing by the lake, Draco knows that Harry is leaving.

Leaving

A soft thud alerted him that he had company. He turned, and his eyes met those of the man he loved above all, for whom he'd give up everything he owned, for whom he'd give his life. However, it seemed he was the only one who held those feelings, for the emerald green eyes staring back at him were cold, the face around them blank.

He knew that Harry was leaving. The bag next to his feet made that rather clear. What he didn't know was why. Only last week, they'd cuddled together on the sofa, making plans for the future, enjoying each other and being thankful for the time they'd been given together. For both of them had nearly perished earlier that year, when Lord Voldemort had discovered Draco's treachery, and Harry, obeying his Hero Complex, had set off to save him.

He hadn't gotten to Voldemort's layer soon enough to save Draco from being tortured however. The torture had completely messed Draco up. No longer caring about his appearance, his pride, or his hate for Harry, he clung to the Boy-Who-Lived like he was the only person in the world.

Harry had had difficulties dealing with Draco in the beginning. It was quite an unusual situation after all – from being hated one day, to being the most important person in the world - Draco's world, at least – had taken a bit of getting used to.

They had bonded, however. Months had passed, and Harry had gotten to know Draco, and vice versa. Eventually, they realised that their feelings were more than just those of a deep friendship. Their first kiss had been truly unforgettable. Everything had been as perfect as it could be. But now Harry was leaving.

The last week Harry had been getting more and more distant. This morning, Draco hadn't even received the usual good morning kiss. It was then that the slowly growing dread had reached an all time high, and when Harry had picked up his clothes from the floor – something he rarely did – the realisation had hit Draco that his boyfriend would be leaving.

They hadn't talked at all today. Not a single word. Harry had seemed too absorbed in his thoughts, just going through the motions, that Draco had feared disturbing him. So Draco had gone to the lake, to be alone with his thoughts. He didn't know how long he'd stared at the murky water. His hands and feet were numb, the cold wind having practically frozen them.

Now Harry was looking at him - staring at him – with those cold, hard eyes, and Draco didn't know what to say. Those eyes had once held so much warmth, such joy, such love; Draco didn't know how they could have gone through such a huge change in such a short space of time.

"I'm leaving."

Draco stared at Harry's face, trying to find a clue to the reason behind this, an explanation.

"I don't love you anymore."

Ouch. Draco felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He knew his face was betraying his thoughts – he'd dropped his cool and collected mask long ago, yet it seemed that Harry had picked it up.

"I don't think I ever loved you."

Draco's vision was getting a bit blurred. He felt slightly dizzy. He wanted to open his mouth, to protest, to say something – anything – but he couldn't.

"Goodbye."

Harry turned and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Draco managed to call out. His voice was raw.

"…I love you, Harry."

Harry didn't turn around. Draco imagined that Harry was shaking slightly; though probably from the cold. He wanted to go to him and wrap his arms around him. But before he could get his frozen feet to move, Harry was walking away from him again; quickly, towards a carriage not too far away. Draco hadn't even noticed it pull up.

Tears were now streaming down his face. He felt so numb. As if in a dream – maybe this was all a dream? No, Harry would've woken him if he were having a nightmare by now. This was real. Harry was leaving.

He watched him get into the carriage. A few seconds later, it started moving – away from him. He could still catch it. Could he? It was so far away – even further now – gone. Gone. Harry was gone. The mist had swallowed him. Draco's legs couldn't support him anymore. He collapsed onto the cold ground. A sob escaped his mouth. He cried. He curled up into a ball and the thought of moving to a warmer place never even crossed his mind.

A few hours later, Albus Dumbeldore would find a literally half frozen Draco Malfoy lying on the frozen grounds, shaking from either the cold, the emotional pain, or both. He would take Draco to the hospital wing, where the Malfoy heir would recover from the cold. From the heartbreak, however, he would never recover.

Unbeknownst to anyone, as Harry Potter had sat in the carriage, leaving Hogwarts and her inhabitants for good, his face had scrunched up in pain, and he'd closed his eyes, only to have a tear escape them. He, too, would never truly recover. He whispered words into the air, words he should have said earlier, words which would have broken him.

I love you too, Draco. I'm sorry.