Hi everyone! I know I've been kind of M.I.A. for a long time, but I got this strange idea in my head and just wanted to post something for you! Let me know what you think.

Saved From Despair

It had been one of the worst days of his life. He didn't want to be alive right now. That's probably why he tried not to be. Little did he know that there would be someone coming to save him from all of his despair.

A While Earlier

Harry Potter was at home. Well, he wouldn't say he felt "at home" while he was here, but at least he had a bed to sleep in. Actually, that was a joke. He had an old stinky mattress to sleep on with a lone saggy pillow and a thin blanket that was too small for his body. He's had the same blanket since he was 12 years old… he was now 17. Obviously growing taller had its advantages sometimes, but not when it was the dead of winter and Harry was freezing in his so-called room on Privet Drive.

It was the winter holidays and Dumbledore forced Harry to go back to his aunt and uncle for the break instead of staying at Hogwarts like he had for the past 5 years. Of course his aunt and uncle weren't happy about that, but they made do. Over the first few days, they made him cook for them, and cleaned the house, everything he would normally do while he was there. However, now they seemed to put all of their hatred toward him and his "freakish" lifestyle. He slept in his bedroom on the stinky mattress, with his so-called blanket and pillow, but he wasn't comfortable. The Dursley's made sure he was very uncomfortable during his stay, which included having the window open so the cold air and snow could float into the room. Of course, the bars were still there, so there was no way he could escape. He was trapped. More than that… he was alone. Scared and alone. He was desperate. Desperate for a way out, and for the past few months he thought of the perfect way to end all of his pain.

Of course nobody knew how unhappy Harry truly was. Since Dumbledore sent Harry back to the god-awful Dursley's residence, he knew Dumbledore could care less about him. Same goes for his so-called "friends". Hermione and Ron, and even Ginny for that matter, were influenced to befriend Harry only to keep an eye on him for Dumbledore. He only knew of them, he wasn't sure if anyone else was coerced to befriend him just to keep a close eye on him. The one person he knew couldn't be faking dislike toward him was none other than Draco Malfoy. He knew that boy, nearing man, loathed him and would kill him if he had the chance. Sometimes Harry thought he should just go up to him and ask him, but then all his "friends" would tell Dumbledore and something bad would end up happening to them all.

He was currently curled up in a ball on his "bed", the windows open and the cold breeze sweeping in a fog of snow and ice. The Dursley's were out for the weekend. They didn't like being around him when he was here, and locking him up without his magical items made it easy for them to know he wouldn't be able to do anything while they were away.

Frozen tears made their way down Harry's face as he sobbed into his pillow, wondering how his life turned out this way. Everyone in the magical world thought his life to be grand and rich. Oh, how wrong were they. That couldn't be further from the truth. In all honestly, Dumbledore took control of his vaults at Gringotts. Harry wasn't sure how in Merlin's name he did it, but he did. Harry only got to buy his new school supplies each year and nothing more was given to him. He never received presents on Christmas morning, never got to dress up for Halloween, never got a kiss on Valentine's Day. His life was horrible, and he blamed it all on himself.

He couldn't believe a word that anyone uttered to him. Yet he also couldn't believe how cruel his friends could be to him. They couldn't have been doing Dumbledore's deeds from 1st year, could they? Harry didn't like to try and put the pieces of this puzzle he called life together.

He was done. Just done. He didn't want to continue on this way. If his life had been different in anyway, if he had an ounce of hope in him that made him believe that things would get better one day, he would consider not doing what he was planning to do. He couldn't find anything to live for. He shakily sat up and wiped the tears off his face. He rubbed his hands together, but then he thought about what the point of that really was? He wasn't going to be here much longer anyways, why not freeze to death? He crawled over to the one lamp he had in his room and with what little strength he had left inside, lifted it up only about a foot or two above the ground before smashing it. The colors from the lampshade splattered around him. He looked at the pieces for a few minutes; trying to decide which one he liked best. In the end, it didn't really matter what he used, as long as it was used usefully enough to stop him from living.

He picked up the largest piece he could find, and held it in front of his face, glancing at his pallid reflection in the colored glass before he took a deep, yet shaky breath. He wouldn't cry, he told himself. There was no use. Nobody would care that he was gone. The Boy Who Lived. He would be that boy no longer. Instead, he would be the boy who chose to take his own life. The boy that felt as though life was so broken that the only thing that could make it better would be if he weren't there anymore to experience it. Cowardice, isn't it? Harry knew that's how some people, probably the Slytherins would see it as. Taking the easy way out. Nobody knew how hard life was for him though. Nobody knew that every night he cried himself to sleep, wishing that his parents were still alive. Wishing that he wouldn't be the one who would be forced to carry out the world's wishes and kill Voldemort. Praying that someone in his world would look at him with a real, genuine smile, and ask him how he was really doing. See him for who is really was: a broken boy with no friends, and no way out.

This was it. His final minutes of life. Ticking by. There was nothing he wanted to do before he was gone. No final places he wanted to see, or things he wanted to do. Not like he would be able to do them anyhow. He was trapped. He was by himself, and he was a prisoner in his own body.

Without a second thought, he put the shard to his left wrist and cut as deep as he could and still be able to handle the pain. He moved it to his other hand, hissing when he uncurled his hand, the shard cutting his hand in several places, hopefully speeding up the process was the only thought that registered in Harry's mind. He cut just as deeply on the other arm, watching as the deep red blood from inside began to seep out of the cut, faster than he thought he would happen, but happy all the same. He lay back on the floor, still surrounded by the shattered glass, not really caring if he was cut anymore. Soon it would all be fine. He would be reunited with his parents. Lily and James would be waiting for him. What if they didn't greet him? What if he went to hell instead of where his parents were, in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort greeted him on the other side. He laughed out loud. If anyone had been around, they would've thought he was crazy, cackling to himself about something that to anyone else wouldn't be remotely funny.

He didn't know how long it had been, but he could feel himself leaving his body. Slowly but surely, he could feel himself growing even colder than he already was, if that was even possible. The next thing he felt were what felt like butterfly wings fluttering on his skin. His ears were filling with blood and were pounding, making it hard to hear anything but his own labored breathing. If he had been able to hear, he would've been able to hear the voice of an angel calling out to him, asking him to hold on, asking him to not give up and to not leave him all alone.

Harry drowsily opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, but he could swear he was still in his room at Privet Drive. He felt something moving over his arms and he groaned in pain. He remembered cutting himself, but what was going on? Shouldn't he be gone by now and with his loving parents? Finally loved in 16 years? He blinked a few more times and the ceiling became clearer and his ears were no longer full of blood. He heard mumbling coming from nearby. He couldn't make out every word, but he heard every few words. He didn't understand what it all meant.

"Harry…can't leave…love…perfect…suicide…take me… Snape…Dark Lord…Merlin." He knew that voice. He heard it all the time, but he couldn't force a name or even a face to come to his mind. Harry whimpered as the person pressed a little too hard on his wounded arm.

"Sorry. Snape!" Snape? Why in the world would Professor Snape be here? Another voice could be heard now.

"Potter…what happened…stop…St. Mungo's… Draco." Draco? Wait. The voice he heard. What was Malfoy doing here?

"Malfoy?" Harry finally was able to utter quietly. He felt a gentle hand on his face and Malfoy's face came into his view.

"Harry, can you hear me? Please stay awake. You've lost a lot of blood. Please. Don't leave me." Draco sounded almost… desperate? Harry didn't understand anything that was happening right now. His brain was muddled and he tried to sit up and see what was going on, but a soft hand on his chest pushed him back down, but his head landed on a fluffy pillow this time instead of the wood floor.

"Shh, I'll explain everything later okay? We have to get you out of here. If we don't… Just relax, but keep your eyes open for me okay. Snape's cast a pain spell, so your arms shouldn't hurt for a while." Harry was still beyond confused, but listened to Malfoy. He wasn't in pain anymore…at least for now.

Snape used a levitating charm on Harry and Harry felt a soft hand slide into his own before he felt the familiar feeling of apparition. A moment later, he noticed that his hand was no longer clutched in Malfoy's, and he was been poked and prodded at, probably by healers. The next words that were whimpered by him, he couldn't control. He hadn't felt cared for in a long time and in the past 10 minutes at least he felt cared for by someone he didn't expect.

"Malfoy" My hand clenched and unclenched, wanting to feel his hand in mine again, to know that it wasn't just a dream that he came to help me. A few seconds later, he felt it again, and Harry sighed and felt a few tears slip down his cheeks. They were wiped away quickly, yet gently and none other than his former enemy was calming him down.

"It's alright Harry, they're helping you. Saving your life. Just relax okay, you can close your eyes and sleep now if you want." Harry heard the whispered words close to his ear and felt a soft kiss being placed to his forehead and a thumb grazing his hand soothingly. He relaxed a little bit after hearing Malfoy's words, and fell into a somewhat restless sleep.

Harry was back in the Dursley's house, but instead of lying on the floor he was floating, looking down at his own body writhing on the floor, blood seeping down his arms and hands. He was by himself, Malfoy hadn't come, neither had Snape. Nobody wanted to help him. He was alone, just like he thought. There was nothing he could do now. He was destined to die.

Harry was shaken awake and noticed Malfoy standing above him. His cheeks felt wet, and his heart felt as though it would beat out of his chest any moment. Unconsciously, he reached out for Draco. He noticed Draco's eyes widen a bit, so he withdrew his hand and laid it back on the bed he just noticed he was lying in. Draco sat down in a chair that was right next to the bed and slowly moved his hand so it was rubbing gently against Harry's.

"How're you feeling?" Harry shrugged a little at the question. How was he supposed to feel? Was he supposed to feel grateful to Draco for saving his life, when all he had wanted was to die? He didn't know what he was feeling. All he knew was that, at the moment, Draco was making him feel safe and at ease. He didn't want that to go away, not when he was feeling his weakest. A healer walked in to check his vitals and then walked out without speaking. Harry saw Snape appear at the doorway and summon Draco to him.

"Don't." Harry whimpered. He couldn't bear to see Draco leave with Snape and not come back. Draco moved in to kiss Harry on the forehead like he had before.

"I'll be right back. I promise." Harry nodded and let go of Draco's hand reluctantly. He watched as Draco walked out the door and stood in front of the window of Harry's room. Snape didn't look angry, just… sympathetic maybe? Harry wasn't sure what in Merlin's name was going on, but he didn't want to be alone, and he really didn't care who he was with, as long as it wasn't anyone who had lied to him in the past. Harry smiled a little when he saw Snape hug Draco, and then turned to leave. The door opened a minute later, and Draco walked to Harry's bedside again.

"I don't… I don't understand. What's going on, Draco?" Harry was curious to know why Draco had come… or how he knew where to find him in the first place.

"Are you sure you're feeling better? I want you to feel better when I tell you everything." Harry thought for a second before nodding.

"I feel a lot better. Being here with… with you. I feel safe right now. I don't know if I should be scared right now. But I don't." Harry thought he saw Draco smile, but only barely before he took Harry's hand in his and started talking again.

"Okay. Are you tired? This story is bloody gonna take forever to tell, so be prepared." Harry nodded and then shifted a little to get more comfortable. Draco chuckled before talking again.

"Alright. I'll just start in first year when you declined my hand in friendship," Harry cringed a little hearing that. "It's alright. I deserved it. I was a total git, but I've changed. Ever since I was little I wanted to be friends with you. Yea, at first it was because you were this famous wizard. I mean, you're Harry Potter. But over the years, I wanted to be friends with you, Harry. Not Harry Potter. Just Harry. I started paying more attention to you. Watching you hardly eat in the Great Hall, how you had dark circles under your eyes almost every morning. I could tell that you were in pain. I wasn't sure if it was physical, or mentally, but I could sense something was wrong. I asked Severus if he knew anything, but he said he didn't. A few weeks ago, Severus asked to see me after class. He told me that he had heard Dumbledore talking to Granger and Weasley about you and how well they were doing with their "special tasks". I, of course, didn't understand what that meant, but Severus did. He told me he started to spy on Dumbledore and realized what was going on; that those two were told to befriend you by Dumbledore. To keep tabs on you, and make sure you stay good and not distracted from what you were going to have to do." Harry didn't know what to feel right now. Draco knew. He just nodded, waiting for Draco to continue talking.

"So, Snape found out where you were staying when he found out Dumbledore sent you home for the winter holidays. Snape had a bad feeling, and so did I. I had been noticing how you were getting increasingly quieter as the days went by, and how you looked more and more tired. You looked as though you had no fight left in you. I asked Severus if I could come with him to find you during the holidays and he agreed. When I walked into the house and found it eerily quiet, I knew something was wrong. I ran around the house like a crazy person trying to find you. When I couldn't get one of the doors open, I used Alohamora to open it and I almost collapsed when I saw you. I asked Snape to let me go by myself first, and he let me, but then I didn't know what to do. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I didn't know any spells, so I started using my hands, and then I yelled for Snape and he came and helped. Then we brought you to St. Mungo's, and here we are." Draco blushed and looked at the ground.

"But… I mean, why did you come find me? You hate me…" Harry was beyond confused. Draco hated him, didn't he? Harry knew that he forgave Draco a long time ago for being a jerk, and wished he could've gone back to first year to accept Draco's hand in friendship. He liked Draco. Draco's eyes met Harry's and for a brief moment, they both didn't know what to say. Did they feel the same way about each other?

"I…" Draco swallowed, took a deep breath, before trying again. "I care about you, Harry. I like you even"

"You mean, like a friend though, right?" Harry asked quietly. In Harry's heart, he wished Draco would say no, that he would say he felt more for Harry than just friendship, but he would never get his hopes up. Not in this lifetime.

"No, Harry. I care about you more than that. More than you could ever know." Draco stood up to brush the hair on Harry's forehead out of his eyes before leaning down and placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. Harry blushed scarlet almost instantly and bit his lip self-consciously. Draco stepped back, like he was about to walk away, but Harry's hand instinctively reached out and latched onto Draco's hand and pulled gently to get him closer to his bed again.

"Draco… You're the first person to say that… that you care about me." Harry's eyes were as big as a doe's. Draco smiled a barely there smile and sat down again.

"I want to be your friend Harry. I want to be the person you come to when life gets hard. I want to be someone you can talk to, someone you can confide in, tell your secrets to. I want to be there for you at all times, whenever you need me. You deserve that. You are much more than you think you are." Harry didn't know what to say. He wanted all of the things Draco was saying to him. He wanted a friend. He wanted more than that with Draco. He didn't realize it until now. Until Draco was sitting less than 6 inches away from him, holding his hand, and looking at him as if he was the only person in the world that existed. Looking into Draco's eyes, Harry knew that everything in his life would turn around. Harry could feel that with Draco by his side, everything would okay. Harry no longer needed to be afraid because now, Harry wasn't alone anymore. He would never be alone again.