Not ready to say goodbye
Rating: M
Pairing: HP/DM
Warnings: Slash, male/male, sexual content, mention of Mpreg
Summary: Somethings you loose can be taken back, others can't. And eventually you'll have to face the facts and say goodbye. Bad summary, I know... Slash HP/DM
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Authors note: Yeah, I know it's a bit sad, but I've been stuck on this song and I just couldn't get it out of my head, hopefully it'll be out of my system after this :)
Flashbacks
"Speach"
I woke up rather late that morning, I always seemed to wake up late these days. But no one complained, or rather, no one dared to.
I stood up, on shaky legs and faced the sunlight that was prickling through the glass and made everything even brighter than it already was, if that even was possible. I leaned down and pulled up a t-shirt and a couple of trousers in a soft material from the floor. Usually, I wasn't this messy. Usually I was a perfectionist...
I picked up the black undergarments that was lying on the floor, together with other clothes and towels and even books. The irritation filled me once again and I took one calming breath before I entered the bathroom and pulled the see-through doors of the shower aside. I was ready to bring up this very special conversation that always took place in the mornings and always ended in the same way.
Not this time, though, I thought.
I always thought that.
The brunette turned towards me in surprise, I couldn't understand how he always looked surprised when I confronted him in the mornings. We always went through the same thing.
"What are these doing on the floor?" I asked him with a biting tone.
He looked at me, with his eyebrows still raised and shrugged before he turned away from me.
"I have no idea," he muttered.
"I told you not to put your shit on the floor, or the furniture. Throw it in the linen basket or the fucking trashcan! But not on the bloody floor!" I screamed through gritted teeth and slammed the doors shut once again.
I stomped into the bedroom again and threw the black cotton boxers into the laundry basket on my way out and went into the kitchen for a cup of tea to calm myself down a bit.
Several minutes later a very wet and sorry looking brunette sat down next to me at the table and looked down into his lap.
"I'm sorry, Dray," the brunette whispered and looked at me.
I knew better than to look back, or should know better, those eyes always got what they wanted. No matter what it was they wanted. Forgivness seemed such an easy thing to give if those eyes pleaded to you.
I only lasted a couple of seconds though, I made the same mistake I always made every morning and looked into the beautiful green eyes.
I grabbed the brunettes chin forcefully and he whimpered underneath my gaze. I pulled him closer, and he whimpered again, maybe because I was grabbing his chin a bit too harshly, but I was angry with myself for falling for his trick once again.
"Promise not to do it again," I murmured and kissed him on the lips, not allowing him to answer.
I didn't want him to answer, because he would promise me anything. Giving someone a promise wasn't hard, it was keeping it that was the difficult part. And if Harry gave me any promise he couldn't hold, that would just be another reason to why I should leave him, and I didn't want to leave him. Not now, not ever. So I simply kissed him long and soft, allowing him and myself to become aroused. Allowing us both to kiss and touch and then when the world seemed to spin around us and nothing but us really excisted, I allowed us to come.
I realized that I had been standing in the same spot for a few minutes and I started to move, slowly, as not to break myself, again.
I looked away from the bathroom that caused annoying tears to crawl up my eyes. It hurt, it hurt like hell.
Slowly my body began to move again, I felt alien as I always did when I was reminded of him. What wouldn't I do to go back to that blissfully unknowing state we were in? That had been merely weeks before we got the news. So much had changed so fast, so much had been shattered. Dreams, our dreams.
Now, there were only my dreams left.
My silly, stupid daydreaming, dreams of him still being here, still breathing, still moving along with me, living. His eyes dancing, his hair standing on it's ends, his cheeks flustered...
I refused the tears, whiped them away.
"Mon cheri," I whispered to myself and pressed my hand towards my heart for a second before I strightened up and pulled the t-shirt over my head. I glanced outside the door once before I put the pants on and left the room.
Our apartment was so quiet nowadays. It was missing something, and I knew exactly what. The constant talking, the constant noise Harry always made. His heavy-not-so-graceful footsteps through the corridor, his deep breathing, the rustle of his clothes as he moved around, all those things that I'd thought had been so annoying at the time were now gone and left was the heavy silence, and I missed them more then I'd ever done before.
I leaned on the wall of the corridor right outside our bedroom.
The horrible painting hung opposite me, the horrible painting Harry'd hung up and forced me to leave it be, how much I wanted it gone. Now, the apartment was mine and there was no Harry left to threaten me if I ever as much as laid a finger on that damned painting.
I shivered. I wrapped my arms around myself and left the corridor as quickly as possible. I went into the kitchen and quickly made myself some tea, intending to forget about the painting all together. As I took one of the cups from the cabinet I smiled faintly at the memory of Harry when he'd chosen them. Both of us had thought they were the ugliest things we'd ever seen. But as I'd been the one to chose most of the things inside our apartment, the furnishing, Harry thought he'd be the one to chose our cups and picked the ones I'd openly said that I disliked, which he happened to dislike as well.
I ran a hand down the cups blue pattern and frowned slightly, I realized I could throw these away as well. I quickly put the cup back and frowned.
I realized that I didn't want to throw them away. I realized that even though I'd complained about them before, I'd loved them. I put the cup down and ignored the pot that had smoking tea within it.
I didn't want to have to make all these decisions, not without Harry. I went into the livingroom and sat down down on the sofa, curled up and wrapped my arms around me.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Everything was perfect, of course it was. Anything Narcissa Malfoy did was perfect, her son, her house, even her sons late fiances funeral was successful. Nothing was out of order, not a strand of hair out of place.
The red roses on the white coffin, they all laid perfectly on the white paint, the contrast was beautiful. The golden handals on the sides of the coffin shone brilliantly when some unexpected sunlight shone through the window.
I almost felt angry, why did the sun shine? It was supposed to rain, it was supposed to be a storm. I blinked angrily and I felt my mother shift next to me.
"It's a beautiful day," she said.
I gritted my teeth and focused my eyes on Harry's big picture in the front of the room instead. The people began to stream in, all dressed in black, Luna Lovegood was the only exeption as she wore a sky blue dress instead with a shining smile on her face, but I didn't even bother caring, even though my mother made a non-commenting noise beside me. Luna Lovegood was, after all, Luna Lovegood.
I could feel her inspecting everyone that stepped inside the room, making sure that it was family only. The Wizarding world had protested violently when I'd stated that Harry would be buried in Malfoy Manor. They demanded that Harry Potter would be buried at Godric's Hollow, Hogwarts, or somewhere else public. I'd told them, that wasn't going to happen. Even Granger and Weasley'd asked if it wasn't better if Harry was buried somewhere else than Malfoy Manor. I'd lashed out completely to say the least, in my own private way, and reminded them that I was the one who decided that. Granger'd clamped her mouth shut and tears had built up in her eyes. I didn't even feel guilty as Weasley glared slightly at me and put an arm around her for comfort. 'This is hard for her' he'd said. As if it wasn't hard for me.
Right now, I watched them come closer, we hadn't met since that day.
Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and Weasley even seemed to have a hard time controling himself. I simply accepted his outstreched hand and kissed Granger twice on her cheeks.
We sat down as the minister began to talk about Harry. About a man he'd never known. It felt so wrong.
The music began to play, the lonely violin echoed beautifully in the large room and soon a cello was added. The happy tune, one of Harry's favorites since he found it in a movie a few years ago. All of us sat silent as the music carried on, I wished it would never end. (A:N Dario Marianelli, A Postcard to Henry Purcell, a link to youtube will be found at the bottom for anyone interested.)
I wanted nothing else then to go home and go to sleep and forget that I lived again.
Weasley stood up with a piece of paper in his hands. He walked over to the coffin and gave it a glance before he faced us, me, the crowd again.
"Harry was..." he began with a shaky voice.
I tuned out the rest, I didn't want to hear everything Weasley thought Harry was. I didn't want anyone to stain his memory, even though it was his best friend.
Time passed and I saw Weasley's mouth open and close as he talked about his late best friend. His chest rise as he breathed, his eyes fill with tears when he was reminded about something. Granger stood up after him, and after her it was the Weaslette, then the rest of the Weasley clan and I didn't even hold track of time or how many that'd spoken about him. Nothing made an imprint in my mind, it all simply passed by.
My mother poked at my side and I found that everyone was staring at me, it was my turn to talk about him. I stood up, once again on shaky legs and I walked over to his coffin, suddenly wishing that it was open, so I could see him, one last time.
I faced them all, some of them had already cried for a long time, others faces remained completely dry with a pale tone to their skin, others seemed to be somewere in between.
My mouth felt dry, the speach my mother had written for me now seemed so empty. I put it aside and glanced back at the coffin.
"I didn't even marry you," I said, my voice reached every corner of the room even though it only had been a whisper.
"I didn't even get to marry you," I whispered again.
My hands brushed away invisible tears from my face and I bit my trembling lip. I was supposed to be the strong one. He'd always called me the strong one.
Be strong, damn it.
I didn't want to be strong anymore, I wanted to be weak. I wanted to curl up somewhere and go to sleep and never wake up again.
Why did all this have to happen?
We were so happy.
I walked through the corridor with Harry by my side. He was muttering things underneith his breath and growling slightly as I looked for the room we were supposed to be in.
"Come on, Harry," I snapped at last. "We're going to be late, and a Malfoy is..."
"... never late," Harry interrupted with a snappy voice. "I got it, but guess what. I don't give a damn."
"Of course you do" I said as I looked into another room at my right before I pulled at his wrist and we went further into the corridor. "You're going to become a Malfoy, remember?"
Harry muttered something, to low for me to hear and I smirked when I found the right room.
I motioned for him to step inside and Harry did so with another dark glare at me. I stepped in right behind him and closed the door after us both. We sat down opposite the two healers that were in the room with us. One of them I recognized as Healer Chapman, the other one was someone I'd never met before.
Healer Chapman noticed my glance and she nodded at me.
"Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, this is Healer Stone," she said with a wary tone.
I offered Healer Stone my hand and he took it with a small polite smile.
"Pleasure," he murmured.
I took Harry's hand in my own, sensing that something was wrong. Healer Chapman took a deep breath before she focused her glance on Harry.
"Harry," she started in a kind voice. "As we examined your body to see if there would be any possible problems for you to carry a child later on we noticed something else."
Harry raised his eyebrows and then looked back at me with worry in his gaze. I shrugged and tried to not show my own worry.
"Something bad," she added and her gaze shifted from Harry to me.
There was an akward moment of silence.
"I won't be able to carry a child?" Harry asked with panic hinting in his tone.
My grasp around his hand tightened and Harry looked back at me again.
"Well," she began again, seeming unsure.
She turned towards Healer Stone who looked at us with severe eyes.
"No," he said. "You won't be able to carry a child."
Harry leaned back on my chest and I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my lips on top of Harry's head. His body shook a bit and soon I realised he was crying.
"Mr. Potter," Healer Stone began. "Harry... You have a tumour in your head, and... I'm sorry to say this, but you are going to die."
Hands grabbed my shoulders and I once again realized that I'd been standing still for several minutes. I let the hands guide me down to my chair again and I sat down, floating outside my body, looking at everyone in the room.
Some of them looked like they didn't even care. They were not even family, but friends to my father, business men.
If Harry was here to see them he would scowl at them before he shrugged and rolled his eyes, telling me not to care. He'd laugh again, and maybe, maybe if he was in a particular mischievous-mood, he'd prank them. Doing something hilarious that would make me laugh. I wondered when I laughed the last time.
I felt my mother caress my cheek as another music part was played, the tones faintly entered my brain and I noticed that it was a rather happy piece for a funeral.
I also noticed that I didn't mind, Harry had been a happy person. I was sure he wouldn't mind.
Everyone suddenly stood up and we left the room and entered another. I was guided to a small sofa, people came to me and offered their condoleanses. It all felt so unreal.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
I politely refused my mothers offer to let me stay at Malfoy manor. I needed to be alone, with Harry, in the apartment.
As I went to bed I could almost imagine Harry's body already lying beneath the covers, warming my side of the bed up for me. He'd shift a bit when I laid myself down next to him, trying to get comfortable. And when he did, he'd put his head on my chest, one leg thrown accross my own and his arms wrapped around my waist. I'd hold him tight until I could hear his breath become shallow and even out.
Sometimes he'd murmur things in his sleep, and I'd simply lay next to him, listening to his sleepy ramble and his deep breaths until I fell asleep as well.
Or, if he was very horny, he'd lay naked, sprawled out above the covers for me to do as I pleased with his wonderful body. He'd moan loudly, knowing that I loved the sounds he made; he'd love anything I did, arch into my touch, scream my name, submit to me.
I pulled his pillow closer and hugged it as I cried, once again.
Tears for Harry.
I knew what I had to do. I knew I had to say goodbye.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
I woke up, feeling giddy and sick. I forced it down along with some tea (which I drank from a regular glass) and some toast. I tried to freshen up a bit, although I didn't have the strength for any shower.
I wrapped myself up in one of Harry's old too big shirts and could only sense his sent in the fabric. It wasn't as strong as it used to be.
I grabbed a brown box and walked into the dimly lit corridor, were the blue and green painting hung. I stared at it for several seconds before I grabbed it, determined, and laid it down in the brown box tenderly.
The wall seemed oddly empty without it.
I continued into the kitchen and opened the cabinet and took out the cups. I placed them into the box as well.
My journey continued into the living room where I packed down Harry's laptop, his slippers and a teddybear I'd given him sometime ago and he'd been persistent about keeping it. All his clothes were put down into the box as well, which had to be enlarged.
When all traces of Harry were gone, save the photoalbum that was placed in a bookcase in the livingroom, and I couldn't smell him, feel him or hear him anymore I put the box in the little closet in the hall.
My lips trembled and I wanted nothing more than to open the closet again and bring Harry out again, instead I walked away from it and stepped into the bedroom, were I changed the linens on the bed.
Then I took my time and walked around in the apartment, my new apartment, without any Harry. I streightened and blinked away any remaining tears.
I'd said goodbye.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Make me happy and send a review won't you? :)
So, here is the music, I know it isn't the best quality, but try to listen to the background music.
http://www(REMOVE)./(REMOVE)watch?v=(REMOVE)ykf0dtw8OYc&feature=related
This is another beautiful melody, listen to it J
http://www(REMOVE)./(REMOVE)watch?v=(REMOVE)gBjq6pbt4XE&feature=related