Here are TWO facts: I don't own Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy is unbelievably hot.
Draco/Harry drabble over the grave of Severus Snape.
Begin
people die.
He shows up just after you do and he looks at you with a mix of uncertainty and relief and you wonder what he has heard that makes him see you this way now.
it's a miserable fact, accept it.
Do you blame him for Snape's death? Maybe, you haven't decided yet, even though it's been three years and you haven't seen him since the pair of you graduated from Hogwarts and your father made a desperate attempt at reviving the family name by shaking-Potter's-bloody-HAND!
death is a symbol of sorts, it makes you see things, things you may not want to see.
You used to pride yourself in your ability to look straight into Harry fucking Potter's eyes, just because so many others were too intimidated to actually meet his emerald gaze. Something about it had always been a sort of boost for you, as if you knew, when you looked at him, when you saw how weak (kind) he really was.
Now you struggle with looking at him at all and you find yourself failing to get that reassurance. He knows it, too, and you swear he moves closer, as if to comfort you.
it reminds you that your time, however abundant, is, in fact, limited by the fact that you're human.
The seventh year of your Hogwarts days was spent with your head down. Potter didn't bother you, like you expected him to, and to your surprise, neither did the rest of the school.
That's a lie, someone did try once, but you heard that Harry Potter ordered that faceless Ravenclaw sixth year to shove it up his arse if he knew what was good for him or something equally stupid. It bothered you, and still bothers you, that Potter feels it his duty to protect you from the cold, cruel world. He feels bad for you, you realize, because he saw you that night.
That night. Can you really blame yourself; you literally lost everything, or nothing, depending on how you look at it.
it reminds you that you have regrets and little, if no time to fix them.
He didn't hold you, necessarily, when he went back for Snape's body and inevitably found you sobbing over the bloody, broken frame as thought the world had ended or something equally dramatic. Potter merely supported you, there was nothing about it that could be read as anything else and he understood what it was to lose a parent who wasn't a parent because of Sirius Black, so really, you were too weak to refuse him. He brushed your hair out of your eyes, dried your tears, and told you softly:
Life goes on.
do not be a fool, Draco Malfoy.
He's holding you now and there's a little protest on your part, but not much, you just want his arms around your waist, not your shoulders.
Maybe you're crying, but you can't really tell yet.
this is your chance.
You ask:
Why?
He doesn't reply, his hands on your back and his cheek pressing against your own.
take it.
You say:
He was my father.
He nods because he knew it all along.
take it.
And he's whispering now, soft I'm sorrys and even softer forgive mes. And you're momentarily mute.
TAKE IT.
Do you blame Harry Potter for the death of Severus Snape?
No.
People die. People die because they're killed and people die by their own design and Severus Snape was the latter in every way. He died for Harry Potter because he knew Harry Potter needed to live for the world, among other things.
walk away now, and I will be ashamed.
Severus Snape saw you for what you really were and what you really were didn't repulse him or, evidently, Harry Potter.
this is what you really are.
You kiss him, or maybe he kissed you, it was hard to tell because you both moved at the same time.
He says your name when you part and you look down at Severus' grave.
i'm proud of you.
End