Casualties of War
Harry ran down the corridor, desperately trying to catch the blonde before he left. When he reached the Entrance Hall he flung the doors open and caught sight of Malfoy, foot frozen in mid step with his head turned to find the source of all the commotion.
"Malfoy," Harry panted, trying to catch his breath, "Wait."
"Wait for what exactly, Potter?"
"Just wait. You can't leave. You can't join them, please," He said, a note of desperation entering his voice.
"Look, Potter, I don't know what's gotten into you but-"
Andat that moment Harry lunged forward, grabbed Malfoy, and kissed him. The kiss was fierce, passionate, and yet, surprisingly gentle. When the kiss was ended, Malfoy just looked at him, a flash of some unknown emotion running through his eyes.
"Goodbye, Potter."
And with that Malfoy turned and walked away. And Harry just watched him go. It was the last time he ever saw Draco Malfoy alive. He was one of the few people to attend Malfoy's memorial service. Ron and Hermione didn't even know he went. They would never understand. Something had started that night, something they would never get a chance to explore. Harry knew this and he grieved. These were the true casualties of war.