By Your Side

By: blackwidow10

A/N: I realized while writing this that it could possibly pass for a deleted scene from my story "If I Die Tomorrow"...I can't decide whether that's a good thing or not. Also, if you all like it (please review ifyou do!), I was thinking about writing a sequel to it, since one of my friends was wondering what could happen next. Let me know if you think it's a good idea! Now, my friends, it's on to the story...

"Look at it this way, love: it's not like you can stop us."

Harry Potter gave a frustrated sigh at this statement. As if he hadn't already known that…

"Malfoy's got a point…though I hate to admit it," Ron Weasley said resignedly, and Harry realized in that moment just how stubborn his best friend could be.

Ron had never agreed with anything Harry's boyfriend had said…especially after said boyfriend had ceased to be the hated rival and moved on to become the love of Harry Potter's young life.

"And anyway," interrupted Harry's too-smart-for-Harry-and-Ron's-own-good friend Hermione Granger. "You're going to need all the help you can get."

"Isn't that what the Order's there for?" Harry asked, fully expecting a snort from the boy to his left as soon as the words left his mouth.

He was not disappointed.

Draco Malfoy accompanied this derisive sound with one of his ever-ready insults: "The Order? Please, Harry, all that those people are good for is getting in the way. I suppose they could be of some use as a distraction, but honestly Harry, you'll be better off with me at your side." This earned the Slytherin a very pointed glare from the other two occupants of the room. "Oh, and the Dramatic Duo as well, I suppose."

Harry let out another of his frustrated sighs, which seemed to be happening more frequently as the night dragged on. He supposed that it probably hadn't been the best idea to put off this conversation for so long, but he really hadn't wanted to talk about what was happening. He didn't want to think about how tomorrow, didn't want to worry about how many more people might have to die so that he could finally face Voldemort and put an end to this bloody war.

It all ended tomorrow, one way or another. The final battle. The showdown. The end of the war. The sweet triumph of the Light, or the disastrous reign of the Dark.

And he really just wanted the small relief of knowing that these people that he cared about would not be in danger come morning.

Unfortunately, they were being very annoyingly adamant about putting themselves directly in the line of fire.

"Look," Harry butted in, cutting off a rather less than stellar (as they usually are) retort from Ron. "I do not want you guys to follow me tomorrow. You should stay in the castle, where it's safe…"

"No way!"

"Never!"

"Not a chance!"

Harry was rather pleased that his next frustrated noise was a growl rather than a sigh.

"Don't you three get it?" he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat in a rather impressive display of anger. "I don't want to lose you! Too many people have died because of me, and I don't fancy adding any of you to that list!"

"We're not going to die, Harry," Draco said calmly.

"You can't know that Draco! And I'd rather not take the risk," Harry said briskly.

"Harry…"

"We're…"

Ron's and Hermione's words got tangled together as Harry's darkly serious eyes fell on them.

"No, I don't want to hear it. I'm not changing my mind." Harry's words left the room in a loaded silence as the four Hogwarts students let the reality of the situation wash over them. Harry remained standing, fists clenched and eyes still fierce as the quiet stretched further. The tension his body exuded was almost palpable in the air.

However, those who know Draco Malfoy know these two things about him: He does not back down easily from a challenge, and, like any true Slytherin, he will use any means necessary to come out as the victor in said challenge.

We can only hope that Harry Potter knows Draco Malfoy.

The blonde-haired boy stood up slowly with a feline sort of grace and let his footsteps break the silence as he moved to stand in front of Harry. Harry watched Draco apprehensively (as he has come to know quite a bit about the cunning Slytherin), but did not say a word as Draco took his face between his long, pale fingers. He relaxed slightly as Draco softly stroked his face with gentle fingertips. Harry's eyes closed as his lover buried those hands in that famous unruly black hair and (as Ron looked quickly away) kissed him firmly on the lips in a way that always managed to make Harry dizzy with contentment. It was like heaven, and he didn't want it to end.

Which is why he couldn't help the disappointed groan that followed the disappearance of Draco's lips from his a few moments later.

"Harry," Draco whispered, and Harry's eyes reopened to stare deeply into his lover's silvery-gray ones. "I want to be there with you tomorrow. I need to, if only to know what's happening. I'll go crazy with worry if you leave me here…" Draco trailed off, letting the subtle guilt trip work its own brand of magic on Harry's mind.

Harry gave an uncomfortable squirm. Draco was very good at this. If he left Draco here, and he started to worry…he might do something drastic, like try to follow him anyway. By that time, Harry would be too far ahead, too far away to protect Draco should evil rear its ugly head, as it was so apt to do in the life and times of Harry Potter.

It was almost assured that Ron and Hermione would follow the Slytherin's example and go after Harry into the dangerous skies.

Harry gave the silent room another sigh, one not so much frustrated as just tired, worn out. Draco's heart gave a painful twinge as the emerald-eyed boy sunk back into his chair, and the other two Gryffindors shared a guilty glance.

The troubled Wizarding hero was lost in a sea of his swirling thoughts. All the things that had happened, all the events of those seven long years that had passed since he had stood next to a magically-created fire and listened in awe as Hagrid told him he would be "a thumpin good" wizard one day; all of that led back to Voldemort.

It started with the boy Tom Riddle, the orphan schoolboy, the heir of Slytherin, who had grown and morphed into the man people feared to name, the "great" Lord Voldemort.

It all ended tomorrow.

"Before 5th year, I used to wonder why everything seemed to happen to me," Harry said quietly, drawing the attention of the other three people in the room. "I used to think that maybe my uncle had a point: I was just a freak, even around people who can do the same strange things I can do."

Draco, Ron, and Hermione all stared at Harry, listening intently. It was rare that the ebony-haired Gryffindor would talk to them like this, even as close as they were.

"Dumbledore proved it to me in 5th year, that ultimate way that I'm different from everyone else when he explained the prophecy to me: I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort. It's my destiny." Harry laughed softly, if not a little bitterly. "I guess I always knew that, deep down, that it would be me and him in the end." And he locked eyes with each of his three closest friends before continuing with, "Just me and him. No teachers, no Order, no students, and definitely none of you three."

The "three" in question immediately opened their mouths to argue, but were cut off by a sound from Harry that startled them all.

Harry had put his head in his hands in a display of hopelessness that one would not expect the Wizarding world's Golden Boy to show, and had let slip a choked sound that came close to being a sob.

Ron and Hermione shared another glance before moving closer to their best friend, kneeling in front of him where he sat. Hermione put a hand on Harry's knee as Draco made his way to the side of Harry's chair. The Slytherin perched on the arm of the chair and ran a hand gently through raven hair in a silent comforting gesture. Harry looked up into the eyes of his best friends who had been there for him through everything, across giant chessboards and secret chambers, past dragons and mermaids and dark grassy mazes, solving mysteries and forming armies with him. They were too dear for him to lose.

"Ron." Harry's voice was slightly hoarse and barely above a whisper, but Ron heard him nonetheless. "You were the first friend I ever made, not only in the Wizarding world, but in my whole life. And even after every stupid adventure I've led you through, you're still here."

"Harry, mate…" Ron began, but Harry cut him off.

"I just want to thank you, for everything. Trust me when I say, you've never been just 'The Great Harry Potter's sidekick.'"

Ron stared wide-eyed at his best friend for a moment, before smiling and cuffing Harry lightly across the shoulder in an obvious sign of friendship.

Hermione and Draco looked rather apprehensive, however. Ron may not have picked up on exactly what Harry was trying to say, but the other two were not quite so oblivious.

"Hermione…"

"Please Harry, don't say it," she said quickly, her hands twining around each other. Ron shot her a confused glance as Hermione bit her lip worriedly.

Harry gave her a sad smile. "I have to, Hermione." The girl shook her head as Harry took a deep breath. "You know that you're the smartest student of our year; I don't have to tell you that again. I wouldn't be anywhere without all your knowledge of…well, everything."

The female member of the Golden Trio sniffed sadly as Harry picked her hand up from where it rested on his knee. He held it between his own and looked into his other best friend's eyes, smiling gently. "This is the final adventure. Voldemort's just another big ugly troll. You've gotten to be a pretty good fighter since our first year…but if you need me to, I won't hesitate to save you again."

The brown-eyed girl was crying by now. Not bawling, not wailing, just letting the tears fall silently, as if resigning herself to accepting what Harry was trying to say:

Goodbye.

Draco, however, had stopped paying attention to what was going on sometime after his boyfriend had finished with Ron. His hand had stopped moving in Harry's hair, and his lips were pursed as he stared angrily at the wall in front of him, as if it had done him a personal wrong. He couldn't believe that Harry had enough fear of Voldemort to think of saying these things now.

Didn't Harry know that he was going to win?

Draco had no doubt about that, not in the least. He knew it would be hard, he had faced the fact that Harry would more than likely get hurt tomorrow, but there was no way that his lover was going to…

"Draco…"

"Don't even think about it, Potter."

Harry was startled by Draco's use of his last name. He hadn't heard that in so long, he had almost forgotten that Draco had always used to refer to him that way. He turned right around in his chair to look at the blonde, who was now staring at him with the calm sort of anger that he had been inflicting on the helpless wall.

"I don't want to hear any of your pathetic goodbye messages," Draco continued, his silvery eyes flashing as Harry's eyes grew wide in astonishment. "You shouldn't be wasting the energy. Voldemort is the one who's dying tomorrow, not you."

Harry could do nothing but stare at Draco, who continued to stare back in a way that plainly said that he would not entertain any argument. Harry cleared his throat.

"Draco…"

"Yes?"

Harry looked away. "I won't say goodbye to you." There was a long pause in which the room was completely still, filled by a tense silence that kept each of the four people on edge. Somehow, they all knew that whatever Harry was going to say was going to be more important than any goodbye.

"It was bad enough to say it to you two," he gestured to Ron and Hermione before continuing, "especially considering that I didn't even really say it." Harry paused again, taking a deep breath. "But I can understand why you don't want to hear it. I wouldn't want to hear it from you either."

"Why not?" Ron asked, looking more confused than ever. Hermione just smiled knowingly through her tears.

"Because," Harry said, looking back up at Draco with a small smile on his face, and Draco felt that he could have possibly been the only person in Harry's world at that moment. "I…I love you."

Draco was, for the first time in his life, stunned into silence. All he could seem to do was take after Harry's example and stare into the other boy's eyes. Harry had never said that to him before, and vice versa. He had thought about it before, dreamed about it in those small moments that he allowed himself to, but…

"Draco?"

The Slytherin blinked and looked around, broken from his reverie by the sound of Harry's voice. Hermione was looking at him expectantly and Ron, unsurprisingly, looked rather sick. He cleared his throat and managed to croak out, "Yes?"

Hermione watched as Harry and Draco continued to stare at each other, one expectant and slightly nervous, the other looking as if he had just been hit over the head with a particularly strong Stupefy. She sighed and rolled her eyes before standing up and saying, "Come on, Ron. Let's go for a walk."

Ron, who had ignored his nausea in favor of the slowly unfolding drama before him, scowled. "Walk? I don't want to go anywhere."

"Ron! Move!"

"Yes, Hermione."

Ron got up and obediently followed his girlfriend out of the room, frowning and looking back at Harry and Draco as he walked through the door.

The two lovers had hardly even witnessed the exit of their fellow students, so involved were they in each other. Draco shook his head in an attempt to clear it and raised a hand to touch Harry's face.

"You never cease to amaze me, Golden Boy," he said affectionately.

Harry smiled weakly. "Is that a good thing?"

Draco grinned and swung his legs around so that he was practically sitting on his boyfriend's lap. "Definitely."

They say in a companionable silence for a few minutes, before Draco sighed softly and gazed up at Harry with a look that could almost be considered shy.

"I love you too, you know," he said quietly, and Harry smiled.

"I know."

It was a perfect moment in time as the boys' lips met in a slow, soft kiss. Harry's fingers tangled in Draco's silky hair as they leisurely explored each other's mouths. The room was once again silent, and for those few blissful moments Harry forgot to care about the war, about Voldemort, about tomorrow.

Draco always had a way of making him forget.

The kiss ended as slowly as it had begun, Harry and Draco each pulling out of it reluctantly. Their foreheads connected the two, eyes closed and enjoying one of the last peaceful minutes they may have for a while to come.

Draco eventually broke the silence with, "I am coming with you."

The walls yet again heard one of Harry Potter's frustrated sighs, along with a soft giggle that Draco Malfoy would never admit to producing.