Chapter 1: The Note

A/N: Hello. I know that this story has been posted, but I have recently moved my ffn account to this new one. I have decided to abandon my old one (Aruuuu), along with all the stories that I have no hope of ever finishing. So I have decided to move all the stories that I would like to continue to work on onto this account. I have 7-8 chapters of this to upload to keep me busy while I continue to finish this story. Thank you everyone who read my stories on my other account, and I hope that you will bear with me on this new one. I am trying to correct some earlier mistakes and perhaps change the story a little more.

Rating: Mature for later chapters. Foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, nor do I own any of the songs used in the story. The lyrics/chapter titles used are various Emarosa lyrics.


"P-Potter…Y-you saved me…" the platinum blonde boy spoke softly, his voice trembling.

Harry paused, "I had to. I couldn't just leave you there."

"You could've just left me. I know you don't even like me, but you-" Draco visibly shook as he stared at the ground, unable to bring himself to look Harry in the eyes. How could he allow his mortal enemy the luxury of saving his life, again?

Harry frowned, hesitating before placing his hand on Draco's shoulder. He felt the blonde jerk at the touch, causing him to retreat his own hand. "I don't hate you, Malfoy…I don't," Harry spoke softly, reaching into his pocket. His fingers trembled as he gripped the slip of paper inside his pocket, debating whether or not if what he was about to do was a good idea or not.

The sounds of the stone soldiers echoed through the halls accompanied by the screams and shouts of wizards evil and good alike. The two boys stood in the dimly lit hall in silence, almost as if afraid that the slightest movement would shatter the tranquility of this moment.

"Well, I-I…better go." Draco quickly turned towards the opposite side of the hall.

"Wait, Malfoy," Harry called out. Reaching outwards again, he took Draco's hand in his own. He could feel the blonde get tense at his touch. Quickly removing his hand, he gave Draco a small, curious smile, before turning to run down the staircase, swerving through the rubble that had fallen from the walls.

Draco opened his hand, staring at the crumpled sheet of paper sitting on his palm. He quickly pocketed it before turning to flee from the scene of danger, disappearing into the darkness.

-One Week Later-

Draco stood nervously in the courtyard of the once beautiful Hogwarts. He leaned himself against a broken stone pillar, quickly scanning the cobblestone bridge for any visitors. Letting out a deep sigh, he pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper Harry had slipped into his hand that unforgettable night of the great war.

Malfoy,

I know I'll never get another chance to say how I really feel. Sometime tonight either I will die or I will kill Voldemort. Whatever the outcome, I need to tell you. I've kept it inside for so long, 7 years to be exact…

Meet me in the courtyard, one week from today. If it may be that I die tonight, I will send either Ron or Hermione to deliver my message.

I hope that you will meet me.

I hope that I will live to meet you.

- Harry P.

Draco felt his cheeks turn warm. He coughed nervously before hugging his vest closer to himself in an attempt to keep warm. He folded the note neatly and slipped it into the back pocket of his black pants. Crossing his arms, he kicked a pebble off the ground in slight frustration. He had been here for almost 4 hours anxiously waiting. Harry never designated a time for them to meet, so he had been here as soon as the sun had come up. He had thought to leave several times before, but something inside him kept him waiting.

"You came."

Draco felt his body jumped when a warm hand pressed against the side of his ear.

"Ah!" Draco felt his body freeze. It was the voice he had been waiting hours for. Slowly he turned to face his guest, his heart thumping in his chest, almost skipping a beat as his icy blue gaze slid across the face he had been waiting for.

"Potter. What took you so long." Draco coughed out quickly to mask his embarrassment.

The boy smiled. "Your ears are cold. You've been waiting out here all morning for me?"

Draco scowled, "I would never. I just happened to be in the area and decided to stop by and take a look at the school. I didn't expect it to look this bad."

"Whatever your reason may be, I'm glad you came." Harry smiled again, noticing a pink blush coating Draco's pale cheeks. He took a seat on a pile of rubble. "So, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to meet me here."

"I am. It better be good, Potter."

Harry clasped his fingers together in thought. The moment had finally come. He had endured 7 years of secrecy, not to mention the battle with Voldemort, for this very moment here. "Do you remember what I said to you the last time we were here at this school?"

Draco paused. Of course he remembered. How could he forget? Harry's words had shaken him to the core. But he could never admit that to Harry, never. "Probably something to make a fool of yourself as usual, Potter."

Harry chuckled. "Let me refresh your memory, then." He paused, wetting his lips with his tongue momentarily. "Malfoy, do you really hate me?"

"What are you going on about, Potter?" Draco grumbled. "Isn't this an obvious question to answer? I mean we've been-"

"I broke up with Ginny," Harry interrupted. He stood from his seat, turning to face Draco. Harry's green eyes met with Draco's icy grey eyes. Noticing the confusion in the other's eyes he continued. "I couldn't pretend any longer. And I think she knew all along that I couldn't return her feelings…"

"Potter, what are you rambling about. I didn't come here to listen to you bitch and moan about your feelings. If you have nothing else to say I'll be on my way. I've wasted enough time already-"

"Draco, just listen." Harry burst out, half expecting to get hexed for using Draco's first name. "Sorry, I-"

Harry felt his body jerk forward. It took him a few seconds to register a pair of cold hands pulling his face lower, a couple of slender fingers slipping through his dark hair, a pair of dry, cold lips pressing against his own.

"And all at once it leaves you breathless, with next to nothing but open hands."