.-.-.
Harry stood at the edge of the grave, staring down into the deep hole where the coffin rested at the bottom. Angry, burning tears prickled at the edges of his eyes, attempting to escape the pain that caused them. He kept his head down, and his back to the group of people behind him.
None of them understood.
Most of the gathered people were only there because he was, and that wasn't fair to him. Only people who loved him should be surrounding his grave, people like Harry. Not those who felt obligated to be there for 'The Chosen One'.
Like they fucking understood.
None of it felt right, it was a disgrace to the memory of him. Harry wished they would all leave. He wanted to be alone with his love. Not around people that felt the need to be near the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Now-Was-In-Pain to comfort him with words of remorse.
Lies, stupid, false lies.
A hand was placed on his shoulder, and Harry shook it off. A voice spoke up, "Harry, mate," Ron's voice was soft, hesitant, "It's time to leave," he reached out to place his hand on Harry's shoulder once more.
Even he doesn't get it.
"Leave me alone," his voice cracked, almost beyond recognition in his grief, and once again shook the hand off, "Go away," his voice cracked even further, he was going to lose it soon.
Breathe, keep breathing.
Another arm replaced the hand, gentler and softer, Hermione's voice spoke, "Harry, I know it hurts, it's alright to cry, we're here for you. He loved you, you know, and would-"
Oh god, no.
Harry shifted in her hold, letting out a heavy sob into her shoulder. He took a shuddering breath, ignoring the group of people gathered behind him. Letting the grief rack his body, he allowed for it to enter his pores and chill his bones. He muttered into Hermione's shoulder again and again, between sobs, as if carving the words permanently there, "It's not fair, it's not fair..."
It's not fair. It's not fair.
Hermione stroked Harry's head, shifting slightly to tell Ron to get the mass of people to leave. This release of emotions was nothing they needed to see.
Go away, he wouldn't want you here.
Harry lost track of time, letting his grief wash over him, drowning him in a world where there was no up, down, left, or right. There was only Hermione's shoulder where he allowed his soul to soak. After an indeterminable amount of time, when Harry had quieted down, Hermione gently lifted him out of her grasp by his upper arms, "Harry, I'm going to find Ron, and then we'll get you home, alright?"
Finally alone, with my love.
He nodded in response, wiping his eyes roughly behind his circle frames, standing up straight to show that he was alright on his own for a bit. She walked away, and Harry turned back to the hole in the ground that matched the gaping hole in his chest, "It's finally just you and me, Draco," Harry's whisper was scratched with emotion and tears continued to stream down his face, "You promised. You promised you wouldn't leave me. You swore that we would always be together."
.-.-.
Harry was tangled in the sheets, naked, with the soft, warm, equally naked body of Draco strewn across him. Harry gently stroked the blonde head that rested on his chest, which emitted soft brushes of air, tingling his skin, smiling to himself in the lazy morning happiness. Draco peered up Harry, about to say something before pausing, eyes narrowing the slightest, "Why are you smiling?"
Harry chuckled gently, the motion displacing Draco slightly, "Because I'm happy."
"Oh, right, I knew that," Draco responded, flipping over, readjusting his comfort, to cross his arms on Harry's chest and rest his chin against them, a slight frown tugging as his mouth.
Harry's smirk broke, his heart clenching at anything that would distress his lover. He ran his thumb over Draco's cheek, brushing the pale, soft skin, "What's wrong, love?"
Draco shifted his silver eyes to look anywhere but Harry's face, the shyness an awkward emotion for the usually confident Malfoy to have. He finally spoke while staring intently at the collarbone of his lover, "It-it's just that...do you think that it will always be this way, you know...between us?"
Harry placed his palm against Draco's cheek, giving it a gentle push, "Hey, look at me," Draco slowly looked back up, and Harry placed his other palm flat on the other side of Draco's face, preventing the blonde from looking anywhere else, "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I don't want to be anywhere but here, and I don't want anyone but you."
Draco's frown disappeared and was replaced with a smile, masked with a smirk, "Good, because you're mine forever, Potter."
Harry chuckled, rocking Draco slightly again, "Is that right? Are you sure you aren't the one who is mine forever?" He sat up quickly, displacing Draco and his balance, flipping over to trap the blonde beneath his weight, "I think that this is more of an appropriate way of saying who's whose," he leaned down and placed a soft kiss against Draco's lips with a smile.
After the kiss, Draco let out a puff of breath and smirked, declaring, "Mm, I don't think so," before running his deft fingers across Harry's stomach, tickling a squirming Harry until he successfully sat atop his chest again.
With the sheets tangled tightly between the two, a panting Harry finally admitted his surrender between laughter and breaths, "Alright, alright, you win! I'm yours forever!"
"And don't you forget it," Draco stated, poking Harry in nose, and crossing his hands across his chest with a serious face, before bursting into bubbling chuckles, "We'll be together forever."
He leaned over top of Harry, reaching for the nightstand next to their bed, pulling open the drawer and reaching in until he found what he was looking for. He retracted his hand, clutching a little box, "Here," he said, presenting the box with both hands.
Harry slid backwards to lean against the headboard, as well as sliding Draco down between his legs, with the latter's still wrapped around him, "And what's this?" he questioned, taking the box from Draco's hands with care.
"Um, well, it's nothing special, it's whatever you want it to mean," Draco ducked his head down, finding a great interest in the bunched up sheets between their legs.
Harry gasped loudly and whispered, "Merlin, Draco, it's beautiful," the box held a small silver band that had a dragon etched into the surface, charmed to circle around the ring as if alive. He gently took Draco's chin and raised it up to press a passionate kiss against his lips, conveying just how much the ring meant to him. When the kiss broke, Harry whispered against Draco's lips, "It means everything to me. I love it. I love you."
Draco's breath caught in his throat and he wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's neck, burying his head deeply there as well, "I love you too," came the mumbled reply, "So, so, so much," he lifted his head to stare into Harry's eyes while a single tear trickled down his own cheek, "Merlin, I love you. You're mine forever, Harry," and he placed a single chaste kiss on his neck, "Mine, mine, mine," he whispered against the patch of skin.
.-.-.
The memory burns as reality slams down on Harry. He reaches up, a silver band glinting on his finger and touches the soft spot on his neck. The skin is cold and damp with tears that have been streaming down his face for the past hours. Harry gasps for air, choking on pieces of his past, images of Draco.
I've lost him, forever.
The thought slams in the back of his head, rattling around, and his heart clenching as he realizes, again, the magnitude of the situation before him. He crumbles to the ground, gripping his neck as he screams, opening his soul, letting the pain consume him.
"You bastard, how the could you FUCKING LEAVE ME HERE, ALONE?" His tears are angry hot, burning his face as he continues to shout at the ground before him, "WHY? WHY? I WAS YOURS FOREVER, DON'T YOU FUCKING REMEMBER, YOU STUPID GIT? I-I, I FUCKING, I fucking loved you," Harry broke into sobs heavier than before clutching his sides, rocking back and forth on the ground. He wailed again, letting his forehead rest on the ground, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears continued to pour out of him.
We were supposed to be together forever.
It wasn't long before Ron and Hermione were at his side, coaxing him to move, and eventually leading him away from the grave to return home.
.-.-.
Harry took Draco's hand as they walked down the street, exclaiming his excitement as they walked through Diagon Alley, "Let's go get ice cream, and then look at the new brooms, and then get sweets for when we go home."
"That's a great plan, Potter, but do you really want to be holding my hand, oh Chosen One?"
Harry cocked his head at Draco's comment, "Why wouldn't I? I'm yours forever, silly."
Draco's voice continued at its colder tone, "Aren't you worried about your precious public's opinion?"
Harry's face drooped, upset at his question, "Draco, you're-, listen-, oh, wait-," instead of finishing what he was going to say, Harry began marching through the street, pulling a confused Draco along with him. People stared as the pair made their way through the streets, Draco almost running to keep up with Harry's pace.
"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"
Still, Harry kept his pace up until he reached a large space filled with people and the steps of Gringotts, walking up to the halfway point. With Draco next to him, still holding his hand, Harry placed his wand to his throat and casted a sonorous charm before addressing the crowd of people, "Excuse me, I just have a little announcement to make," he glanced over to Draco's wide-eyed face, and smiled, "My name is Harry James Potter, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, and I want it to be known that I am in love with Draco Malfoy. I don't care what anyone has to say about it, so if you have a problem, you can stuff it. I am Draco Malfoy's forever," the 'forever' bounced around the plaza, the charm ending as Harry turned toward Draco and placed a deep, passionate kiss against his lips.
Draco was shocked, immobile as he tried to wrap his head around Harry's words. A loud cheer broke his trace, and Draco wrapped his hands around Harry's neck, returning the kiss. He smiled brightly, warming Harry's heart, and he mumbled against his lips, "I love you so, so much. Mine, mine, mine," he laughed, and grabbed Harry's hand before sprinting down the stairs, calling out, "It's time to get ice cream, look at the new brooms, and get sweets for home, my love."
.-.-.
A Daily Prophet sat on the steps of the empty house, abandoned, a picture of Harry Potter standing at a funeral taking up most of the page, with an article stating:
St. Mungo's Taking Care of the Broken Chosen One, Will He Ever Rise Again?
Early yesterday afternoon, our hero, Harry James Potter, the Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, was admitted to St. Mungo's for treatment regarding depression. According to sources, Harry Potter was found in his home by his close friends, lifeless on his couch, apparently barely having moved the past couple of days beforehand. Not much else was revealed regarding how he was found.
It is believed that his depression is rooted deeply in the recent passing of his lover, former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, on March 7th. The attachment that the two had for each other was no secret, many remembering the day that The Chosen One declared his love for the world to see on the steps of Gringotts.
Post and other objects of affection are, unfortunately, not able to reach our hero at this time, so it has been asked that the post cease. Our thoughts lie with the Boy-Who-Lived, and we pray for a fast recovery.
It is at this time, we remember...(continued on page 2)
.-.-.
Harry smiled as Draco walked into the room and greeted him with, "Good morning, beautiful," while handing him a cup of coffee.
"Good morning to you too, git," Draco replied, before also breaking into a smile and kissing Harry's growing pout at the greeting, "I love you."
"That's better, I was beginning to think that you'd grown bored of me," Harry smiled, sitting down at the small table where eggs, toast, and the day's issue of the Daily Prophet sat.
"Hardly. Still head-over-heels in love, unfortunately," Draco grimaced playfully, before taking a seat in Harry's lap at the table, ignoring the chair on the other side. Harry chuckled in response, unfolding the Prophet across the table and picking up a piece of toast for Draco to bite, and then taking a bite himself, "So what's new and exciting in the paper today?"
"Well let's see, Daily Prophet: Volume 109, Issue 67, March 7th, Harry James Potter, Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World, loves Draco Malfoy, Chosen One's Chosen One, The Boy Who is Gorgeous, Most Beautiful in all the Wizarding World. And, Gossip! Draco Malfoy loves to be ravished in kisses," Harry and Draco broke down in giggles as Harry put the paper back on the table.
"Ooooh, juicy," Draco laughed as he turned in Harry's lap to straddle him, "The Prophet's finally reporting facts, and interesting ones at that."
Harry smiled at him, brushing his lips against Draco's, whispering, "I could never get tired of this," before tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Draco slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth, caressing the inside and dancing with Harry's tongue. He pulled back and took his lover's lip in his teeth and pulled it, slowly separating their mouths and letting go. Harry groaned, "Nope, never could get tired of this. But if you don't stop soon, I'll never let you leave."
Draco laughed, "Good point," and detached himself from Harry's lap, holding out his hand for Harry to get up as well. They held hands as they walked to the front door where Draco shrugged on his cloak, and Harry once again chastely kissed him, and rested his forehead on Draco's. The blonde broke the silence first, "I love you, Harry."
"I love you too, Draco."
"Remember, you're mine forever."
"I wouldn't ever forget, love."
Draco removed his head from Harry's and opened the door with his left hand, his right still holding hands with his lover. He advanced as far as their arms stretched, their fingertips still connecting them together. At that farthest point, Draco looked back, smiling, "Mine, mine, mine, forever and ever and ever," and turned away, walking forward as their fingertips disconnected.
.-.-.