Title: Home Before I Go
Pairing/s: Harry and Draco
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to JK Rowling. I am doing this for my own fun, and not for profit in any way, shape or form.
Warning/s: Angst.
Chapter/s: One.
Word Count: 610.
Summary: Harry visits Draco before he leaves.
Author's Note: I'm feeling sad so I thought you guys should feel sad as well. Enjoy!
Harry nostalgically touches the scratch marks Draco's demonic cat left on the kitchen counter, feeling his heart twist violently at the now fond memory.
He looks around with a sad smile, glad to see everything in the apartment is still intact. Draco tended to become a little violent when he gets upset, meaning nothing is safe from his violent seeking hands.
Harry would have thought the pictures of them that they hung on the wall would have been littered on the floor, glass stuck between the carpeted ground and the pictures torn into angry confetti. Or at least the crystal vase Narcissa gave them one Christmas completely shattered, since that seems to be the prime target of Draco's rage, having now been repaired seventeen times.
But no, everything was the same, if not slightly neglected, Harry amended when he saw the pile up of dirty dishes and cups by the sink and the more than half empty bottle of Fire Whisky on the coffee table.
Harry walked slowly, cautiously, towards the lounge, breath hitching when he got there.
Draco was curled up tightly on the couch, long limbs tucked into a fetal position. Harry knew the only reason he was asleep was because he was too bone dead tired to keep his eyes open any longer, and the whisky might of helped as well. There were heavy, purple bags under his eyes that Harry wanted to thumb at, in a futile attempt to make them vanish.
He never looked more beautiful and Harry drank in the sight like a starved man.
He eventually sat down cross-legged in front of Draco, getting a closer look. He can now see Draco's veins running through his too pale face and his very few wrinkles that Draco always fervently denies having. Harry gently brushes a stray lock of hair away, absently thinking that he will be needing a haircut soon. He hated it long, confessed that it reminds him too much of his father.
He keeps his fingers there, brushing them feather lightly through Draco's hair so as to not to wake him.
"Master."
Harry didn't startle at the voice, he felt their presence before they arrived. He felt dread crawl up his throat, causing a lump. He didn't want to leave, not so soon, not ever.
"Your time is up."
Harry nodded, acknowledging Death's calm statement, but failing to get stand up or even tear his eyes away from Draco's sleeping face.
"We must go."
He nodded again. He felt the sting of tears and the lump grew a bit bigger, starting to ache as he tries to suppress the urge to sob. Tears would just obscure his view of Draco and Harry would be damned to let that happen.
Taking a shaky breath, he stood up slowly, eyes never leaving his lover. He leant down slowly and placed a light kiss onto Draco's forehead.
"Come," Death commanded gently, placing a bony hand onto Harry's shoulder. "Any last goodbyes must be said now."
But Harry couldn't make his throat work; it was too tightly clenched; only allowing breaths that were hitched to come through. He desperately wanted to say something, that Harry loved him and will be seeing him on the other side, some sort of useless comfort that was more for Harry's reassurance than Draco's since he wouldn't be able to hear them, but nothing was released.
So he shook his head, eyes watering enough to make everything a blur. Harry refused to lift his eyes away from the now vague blob that was Draco's sleeping body as Death pulled Harry back into the place where only dead people can go.
Author's Note: Harry can visit Draco for a limited time because Harry is the Master of Death and made a deal with Death. I couldn't find a way to fit that into the story, so yeah. I thought I should quickly explain that.