A/N: Drarry.
WARNING FOR TRAGEDY.
Sort of like a counterpart for Bitter Memorandum. I kinda feel like I hate the world right now. So I had to take it out on Drarry. Feedback would make you awesome.
I held on tightly to his hand so that he wouldn't walk away. But it didn't work just like before, that whenever I showed any sign that I needed him, he would stop dead in his tracks, turn around and hold me to tell me he would never go. This time, as he told me, was different.
"Would you ever come back?" I asked him, looking up at his pale, angular face. His eyes were cold and uncaring; something that I have never really seen before. Even in our early years, he looked at me with a fiery hatred, passionately hating me. A few years ago, I was able to cool down the pools of boiling mercury in his eyes, suddenly sparkling with a million stars as we secretly spent time with each other. And now, his eyes were as cold as dull stone; never really shining as much.
He didn't reply, and somehow, I was thankful for that. At least he didn't promise me something that he knew well himself he couldn't really fulfill. He avoided my pleading stare, gripping tighter to my hand as a brilliant burst of green light shattered the darkness. A few figures appeared out of the green luminescence and he suddenly pinned me down to the ground. It didn't get me excited like it used to; Instead, the atmosphere was heavy with fear and uncertainty as his grey eyes studied my face carefully- as if he was seeing me for the first time.
Of course, we were hiding behind a mulberry bush, so what were the chances of his fellow Death Eaters finding me here? About 5 to 1.
"Harry please do not- I AM TELLING YOU- do NOT leave this bush until all of us have apperated out of here, okay?" he implored, silver coating my emerald eyes. I nodded and opened my mouth to speak, but he pressed his quivering and terrified lips against mine, assuring himself more than he assured me. I could see his eyes were tautly shut away from the world, and the ordeals he will have to face. With that, he pushed me down, straightened himself up and ran to the open field. My eyes were frozen on the mulberry leaves, but I could hear everything they were saying. A man with a booming voice was asking him why he was behind the bushes. He told him because he needed a place to hide, and the opening in the Hogwarts field had very scarce hiding places. I heard them chuckle and one of them spit on the Hogwarts grounds, mocking Dumbledore's choice of location. Then, the strong gust of wind. Then there was silence. And finally, the sound of my heart shattering.
Xxxxxxx
"There must be a mistake-" I pleaded with them, their sardonic eyes studying the horrified look on my face.
"Oh, but it's the Dark Lord's orders, Draco. We must do so. Or else you know what would happen." They responded, a fake mock in their tones. I avoided their gazes, focusing on the ground beneath me. I couldn't do that. Even if my life depended on it. And it did.
"Potter isn't worthy of our time, Aunt Bella. He would just waste our patience. Pathetic scarhead." I cringed at the false accusation that had been forced out of my mouth. I admit it, I wasn't the man for the job. Any job including the deaths of innocent people just wasn't my cup of tea. I wasn't like the others; I didn't see the humor and pleasure they got from killing Muggles and wizards. It was insane. And so were they. Killing people was hard enough, but killing Harry Potter was suicide.
"Maybe, I could go and talk to the Dark Lord. Make a deal with him." I pleaded, and they laughed.
"Oh please, Draco dear, what would you propose?" Aunt Bellatrix taunted.
"If… If I could just see Hogwarts again before you destroy the foundation." And to see Harry before you destroy him, I didn't say. They laughed again, mocking me. I wouldn't do this, I just couldn't. It would be unbearable for me. And it was.
Xxxxxx
I was sitting in the Quidditch pitch, staring at the dark skies. Ginny was fast asleep in her dormitory, last time I checked, so I decided to go out and get some fresh air. Or simply, get out of her air.
I stared at the wrecked Snitch in my hand, wondering what "I open at the closed" meant. I stared at it and thought of how boisterously Seekers fought over this tiny ball. That Seeker. Who not only captured the Snitch, but the favor of a Gryffindor seeker his age.
Who was I kidding, it's been seven months! He isn't coming back. Maybe went off with someone else. Someone who he didn't have to kill. Maybe he finally found freakish feelings for that gorgon Parkinson. But maybe, he had been forced to forget about everything he cared for. Maybe worse, he had forced me out of his life. He forced himself to date Parkinson like I forced Ginny as my cover up. He's probably forgotten me or something. And yet, why couldn't I force the feeling to be mutual?
I threw the snitch to the other side of the pitch and used my free hand to wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. I was angry with myself for letting my emotions flood out. Not once have I let myself go and feel once more in these seven months. Suddenly, I couldn't have been angry at myself as I couldn't stop my tears from falling to the damp grass, teardrops clinging on to the grass. I grew frantic, gasping for air as I felt like I was drowning in all the little things.
"Lose something, Potter?"
My dignity, yes. I thought to myself before realizing the voice I heard wasn't some sort of Jiminy Cricket at the back of my head. I looked up from my clammy hands and thought I was hallucinating. It couldn't be. It was just a floating Snitch in the darkness. But only one Seeker could have caught the fluttering ball that fast. The same one who could have made my heart race as fast.
"Draco?"
"Hello, Harry."
He emerged from the darkness, his faded denims brushing against the individual blades of grass. He was soon striding across the field, the moonlight dramatically emphasizing his high cheekbones. My unbelieving eyes were imprisoned in grey cells; drowning. But I didn't care. Soon enough, he was kneeling in front of me, my trembling and tearstained hand enclosed in his. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision and clear my mind.
"Miss me?"
With that, I threw myself at him, locking my arms around his neck and biting my lower lip til I stained his cashmere green sweater. My knees gave way, and suddenly, I was thankful that I was sitting on a bench. I pulled away, saw the blood on his clothes, and smiled: I wasn't dreaming.
"Stupid git. Of course I did." I sniffed. I could feel his arms coiling around my waist, the brittle wings of the snitch in his hand fluttering behind me.
Xxxxxxx
Oh my God.
I didn't realize how much I missed him, I really didn't. I was too shrouded in the bloodshed my fellow Death Eaters caused and the burden of being one of them that I forgot how it was to actually feel. Sadness. Guilt. Happiness. Hate. Love. I found myself in him. For the first moment in such a long time, I felt something more than just indifference. I felt the wind playing with ebony locks as they slipped through my fingers instead of the feel of some stranger's life slipping from their bodies. I smelled the sweetness of the dewy grass instead of the blood spilled from humans. I felt his weight on my arms as I pulled him up to his feet instead of the burden of the world shattering my arms. I tasted cinnamon as our lips met, not the heavy iron-like blood in my mouth whenever I got a sample of discipline from Aunt Bellatrix. I never really realized all these things. After all, he was the only way I knew how to feel.
For once, the world was patient. It didn't leave us behind. This moment was perfect. A bit too perfect for my taste.
Then the earsplitting cackle from behind Harry.
I didn't know what to do-everything was a flurry of motion; I saw more people in thick, dark cloaks and tightened my grip around Harry-
"Petrificus Totalus!"
- until I thudded on the ground. I couldn't move no matter how much I struggled against all the forces. I couldn't scream as I watched Harry thrash about against the Death Eaters who were holding his hands behind his back. He resisted their grip and was hit by a large man (Maybe Fernir Greyback),smack-dab on the face, causing blood to leak out of the corner of his mouth. My heart exploded at the very sight of it and tears trickled down my cheeks.
"Good work, Draco." Whispered a satisfied, raspy male voice.
"Indeed. Pretending you truly cared for Potter was a great idea." Agreed another deep voice.
But I did care for him I couldn't say.
I had hoped he hadn't heard that, for I wasn't sure I- or he- would live for me to assure him I did care for him. That I loved him on my own accord, not because they used me to track him down.
"Draco!" I heard him scream, sputtering out blood. I couldn't see his face, except for the teardrops staining it. I couldn't determine if his face was of fear, pleading, or hate. They lifted him off his feet and carried him away, leaving me with a few Death Eaters. I saw The Dark Lord follow his minions, eyeing his most prized possession-or mine, on that accord. I seethed as teardrops seeped from my eyes.
Words wanted to escape my mouth and flow out into the open. I wanted to scream.
"Ah-'m-s-sorry."
"What was that, Dray?" A sardonic Bellatrix asked.
"I'm-so-sorry-Ha-Ha-rry."
She gave a confused look and left me in my previous state. Sadness. Guilt. Happiness. Hate. Love.
Forever shall I be a seeker.