Harry supposed he had always loved Draco, it was just one of those things where you didn't know where it changed, where he stopped seeing the steely eyed impudent boy who mocked him and started seeing someone greater. Doubtless people would shun him, not once had he shown himself as gay, not once did he show he cared for the blond, but it was true. And yearning for someone who hates you is possible, it just hurts. He looked up at the castle in front of him, there were many places he could have gone, he had considered Godric's Hollow, where it all began, but if he were being honest with himself, he knew he could not truly remember that time, he could have gone to Privett Drive, but it held no meaning for him either, and so he had gone to the Dark forest, where he first saw Voldemort, and where he defeated him. Draco was leaving, to go somewhere, Harry didn't know exactly, nor did he care, what was left of his hope was leaving him and so he had made the plan to do this, he had not written a letter, there was no one to write to.
He still remembered every dream that haunted him, they played over and over every night until he feared sleep, he sat on a rock drawing a knife from his robe, he had wanted to do this the way he had known, before magic, before death. He touched the knife point to the top of his arm and deftly slid it across his skin,
One for my father .It had not hurt as he had expected it to, just a clean sharp sting, the blood that came from his arm was the purest red, like the Gryffindor colours he had been so proud to wear, he moved the knife down by a fraction,
One for my mother. He was crying now, not from the pain.
One for Cedric.
One for Sirius.
One for Dumbledore
One for Dobby. He winced as the blade sliced over the joint in his elbow,
One for Fred
One for Remus
One for Tonks
One for Severus, his vision began to dim around the edges and he sighed, relieved as at last he reached his wrist.
One for Draco