Draco couldn't stand the pain and heartache anymore. Harry, his Harry, had been taken away from him by a Muggle illness called cancer, which has no cure. Awful smelling flowers, sympathy cards and condolences from hundreds of people did nothing to ease his pain, in fact, they only made it worse.
After the War ended, Harry and Draco fell in love with each other. A year later they were bonded, and moved into a Flat in Diagon Alley. Harry and Draco spent all day with each other. They were both Aurors and went on the same missions together. At night, they would take turns cooking, and then they would fall asleep in each other's arms. Two years later, Harry got very sick. Healers at St. Mungo's couldn't figure out what it was, so Draco had no other option but to bring him to a Muggle hospital in London. It was there that Harry was told that he had brain cancer, and that there was no cure for it. The cancer was already past the first stages, and Harry was given a mere three years to live. Draco was crushed, but vowed to do everything possible to make his partner comfortable. As the years passed, Harry got weaker and weaker, until he was ordered to spend all his time in bed. On May 2nd, three years later, Harry called Draco into their room. He had managed to prop himself up so that he was staring right into Draco's eyes, the eyes that he loved so much. Harry took Draco's hands in his and said, "My Dragon, I know that I won't be here much longer. I just want you to know that I will never forget all you have done for me these past three years, and even before that. You made me so happy, Draco." Harry finished, and he had tears in his eyes. Draco was crying as well.
"Harry, I love you more than anything else on this planet. You've made me the happiest I've ever been. I promise that I'll never forget you, and everything you've done for me, and the Wizarding community. I can't imagine a life without you." Draco said to Harry. He had a feeling that this would be their last conversation. Draco took Harry's hand in his, and stayed by his side through the night. Before dawn, Harry's hand went limp in Draco's and he was gone. Draco cried silently until the sun rose, and then notified the "Prophet" and their friends.
At Harry's funeral, his friends, former professors, and colleagues spoke about Harry and what he meant to them. Every one was crying. But it was Draco's speech that had every one crying the most.
"Harry and I didn't get along at school. I was an obnoxious Slytherin and he was a trouble making Gryffindor. But, after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated, we struck up a friendship, that eventually turned into much, much more. We spent the rest of his life together, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. It saddened me beyond belief when he was diagnosed with the cancer. Nothing could save him. The Boy-Who-Lived, who sacrificed so much for so many, had finally met his match. It is ironic, that his illness took his life, on the day that he defeated the Darkest Wizard of all time. But I take comfort in knowing that he is with his parents, and all those who he loved so dearly. I know I will see him again one day. I will never forget my Harry. My prince. May he rest in paradise forever."
That night, Draco succumbed to the darkness that had been threatening to overtake him since Harry died. He went to his desk and pulled out his Aunt Bellatrix's dagger, that had been left to him after she was killed. He wrote a note to his Mother and to the Weasley's, and had his owl deliver them. Draco then plunged the dagger into his neck. Death was instantaneous. Draco would be with his Harry once more.