The Unquiet Grave

Draco kneeled beside the jagged stone, pearl tears sliding down his pale and bloody cheeks. His hands gripped his blonde hair and ripped at the roots, drawing a sob from his raw throat. Cradling his head in his hands he looked upon the finely etched rock and began to cry to no one in particular

"How? WHY!? Why would you do this to me? To him! He saved us. He saved us all and you killed him, you stole my love from me why? Are you reaping some sick penance from me? Is this fair? Is this my reward for treachery?" He began to shake as a pale hand reached out and stroked the name, etched so lovingly into the stone.

Harry James Potter

July 31, 1980 – October 17, 1998

Beloved Godson, friend, lover

"The greatest Hero's are not those who have nothing to lose

But those who have everything to fight for"

Draco had read these words a hundred times and still it was not enough. Tears soaking his face, he curled atop the dirt and fell into a restless sleep...

Cold blows the wind to my true love and gently falls the rain.

I only had but one true love, and in green woods she lies slain.

I'll do as much for my true love as any young man may

-
I'll sit and mourn along the grave for a twelve-month and a day.

A year later... the anniversary of his loves death. He was still there. At the grave. Barely a day had gone by that Draco had not been at this place. The beauty of the tree's, their green branches, the petals drifting gently to the ground, The ever present sun setting directly beyond the tomb, it all seemed to mock him, To whisper cruel remarks. 'Harry's beauty remains in his death. His green eyes, his gentle touch, and his ever present light, it will not leave.' Draco had not once thought of moving on. They all had. All the others had moved on for him, so why should he!? Why should Draco be insulted and pitied for mourning and remembering who he loved? Was it wrong to yearn? Was it wrong to miss, to crave and to desire?

When the twelve-month and a day was done, the ghost began to speak:

"Why sittest thou along my grave and will not let me sleep?"

Harry could cry as he sat upon a tree branch. Translucent, almost invisible to the eye, He watched as his love, his Draco returned to his grave everyday. He watched as Draco mourned his death, and in return he mourned Draco's. He had wished and prayed that his love would leave. Move forward with his life. He cried for his love. Yes, Harry sat among the branches and leaves, the white petals settling in his hair, the sun catching in his eyes, the beauty was phenomenal, yet it brought him no joy. He wanted to sleep, to rest, but he could not abandon Draco knowing how much pain he was in. He wanted Draco to feel pleasure again. The pleasure they used to share... 'Hands sliding down Harry's skin, to hook under his hips and lift them up. The blonde angel kissed away the tears that slid down his lover's rosy cheeks and began his movements. Cardinal pleasure slipped away quickly into a dance of sorts, keeping rhythm to the moans and cries that filled the air...' Draco could never find that in mourning. Harry gracefully fell from his perch, and began an effortless walk 'Or was he gliding?' over to the black stone, covered by moss and the body of a broken soul. He knelt beside the boy 'the man' and graced his hand across his cheek. Draco's eyes lifted to the nearly invisible face of his departed love. Tears of joy and sorrow fell freely from his eyes and onto the grass beneath him.

There's one thing that I want, sweetheart, there's one thing that I crave,

And that is a kiss from your lily-white lips. Then I'll go from your grave.

"My lips they are as cold as clay, my breath smells earthy strong,

And if you kiss my lily-white lips, your days they won't be long.

Draco reached up to grasp the wrist of his lover, only to find that he could not, that his hand fazed through the translucent skin like smoke. He looked into 'And through' the green eyes that he had once seen so many emotions in.

"My love why have you left me? You promised me you would dry my tears if ever I was in pain. A year ago. A YEAR AGO!" He became hysterical, flailing, trying desperately to cling to some part of Harry. "I was hurting a year ago, and you left me." The clear viridian eyes filled with sorrow.

"But why mourn my death? Why not rejoice my life? You try to be with me, to hold me again but it can never be. Never, and you are perfectly aware of that. I love you Draco, I always will. But I have been through so much. So much, and I am tired Draco. I wish to sleep." He gazed into Draco's smoky eyes then shook his head sadly. "But how can I fall asleep if you are still here? I must know that you will be alright before I leave."

Draco's sobs increased. "But I do not want you to leave. I do not want that but if you must I will let you. But I need to feel you. To hold you once more before you leave." Harry smiled sadly.

"My darling, would that I could, but my lips are cold and unfeeling. They would taste like the grass to your tongue."

'Twas down in Cupid's Garden, where you and I would walk,

The fairest flower that ever I saw is withered to a stalk.

The stalk is withered and dry sweetheart, the flower will ne'er return,

And since I lost my one true love, what can I do but mourn?

Draco shied away from the stare of his lover to look around. The stream that flowed freely behind his feet, crackled merrily against the rocks. As Draco looked more closely tears began to fall once more.

"Do you see Harry? When we came here for the first time, the flowers that you made bloom. I will never understand how you did that 'It was his magic touch'. They were as gorgeous as you. But since you left they have all wilted. Your love kept so many things strong and full of life. I know I should leave here Harry but I am scared that without you I too will wilt."

Harry looked at his lover, blonde hair whipping in the wind. Draco watched his loves shadow 'for that is all it is', he looked deep in thought. One more tear rolled down Draco's cheek and Harry smiled before swooping up to catch Draco's lips in a kiss that neither of them felt. He pulled back, and if he had breath it would have caught at the smile that Draco gave him. So many emotions fluttered through those molten silver eyes that made Harry's stilled heart ache.

When shall we meet again, sweetheart? When shall we meet again?

"Do not think about what was, think about what is." Harry spoke words gently to Draco as he walked 'floated' around the grave and to the edge of the stream. "Please my beloved, mourn me not. Go out and live, enjoy life. You are young. I am young. And I am patient. When you die I shall be here, awaiting you my love. Beneath the leaves and petals and sunlight. So live your life, as fast as you can! And be driven by the knowledge that I am happy, and am waiting with open arms. Beneath this tree." With that the shadow of Harry turned and walked down the river, his feet in the water but never truly wet. Before Draco could say 'Goodbye my love' The figure was gone. Draco took a deep breath that felt more like a gasp, turned, and left the clearing. Walking into his first days of a new life. Eager to make them best possible, knowing he would make it alright, his love was waiting for him. With that joyful thought in mind, Draco left and took his sobs and cries with him, the grave was quiet at last.

"Ere the oaken leaves that fall from the tree are green and spring up again."

Eer... Depressing much? This story is based on one of my favorite poems, From "The Gryphon" An old book of celtic poems. I have always thought that it was reeaally pretty. I tried to copy the writing style in my fic but I think I failed... What do you think? Read and Review. Please no flames.