Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"Do you love me?" he questioned. "Would you die without me, your heart shattered? Would you be able to pick yourself back up if I left? Would you do anything for me? No. You wouldn't. You don't care for me as I care for you, and you never have. You never will. Your heart will never break due to me. You'll never know the pain you cause me because you'll never love. You can't love. And I feel sorry for you."

With that he walked away. It was true, what he said. I couldn't love. I wasn't sure how. Before him, there was no one I had ever wanted to love. I had never loved any of my relatives, I didn't love my Godfather. I didn't love my friends. I had never even loved an idea or a place. I simply couldn't bring myself to get that attached, and before now that was fine.

But he was different. He wanted me to love him, and I wanted to love him. I found I couldn't do it. I couldn't get that hung up on some one, couldn't put my feelings on the line. I had wanted to, desperately. Especially now, when he walked away. I wanted to be able to call him back, to tell him with absolute certainty that I loved him. I wanted to give myself up to him, hold him tight in my arms. I wanted to say his name over and over again, tell him that he was mine, that no one else could have him. It didn't happen.

Now, it never would. I was sentenced to die tomorrow. They didn't want anymore Death Eaters alive, and too bad for me I had the Dark Mark on my arm. He understood. He realized that I didn't want the stupid mark, that I never had. He got that I had never wanted to be mean to him, had never wanted to hurt him. And I understood that I had hurt him anyways, that his pain may never be healed now because even though I couldn't love he could. Deeply. And he did. He had told me multiple times that he loved me, and I had seen him tell others that he loved them. I had seen the sheer power and amount of his love protect a whole race of people. But still I couldn't love him

Maybe it was because I thought I wasn't good enough for him, and I knew that one day he would know it too. Everyone else knew it. His friends tried to deny it, tried to convince themselves that it was fine for his sake, but I could tell what they really thought. I could see the looks they shot me. I couldn't even get angry with them for it because I was constantly thinking the same things they were. That one day he would see how foolish it was to love me, someone so below him, so unworthy of someone as pure and kind as he had always been. He who had saved his biggest and most hated school rival. He who had cried and held a funeral for his mortal enemy. He who had saved so many people from death and mourned each and every person who he hadn't been able to save. Everyone else knew, could plainly see, that I was nowhere near good enough for him. But that still didn't stop him from loving me. And that still could not make me bring myself to allow my heart to love him.

It was something I knew I would regret when I was dead, no longer able to talk to him until he eventually followed me. I knew I would never forgive myself for not loving him, for not forcing myself to let my oh so carefully built walls fall. I knew I would look down at him from heaven and want him, would crave his presence. I knew I would covet him, someone which I so did not deserve. I knew I would watch him every day, hoping he mourned for me, hoping he wouldn't. And still I could not love him, and still I hated myself for it.

~~~~~Harry Potter~~~~~

"Do you, Draco Malfoy, acknowledge the fact that there is a Dark Mark on your arm? Are you fully aware of the reason you are currently being sentenced to death? Are you fully aware of the fact that your claims have been denied, as well as the claims of your witnesses? Do you so solemnly swear that you accept you actions and will not fight us when we kill you?" the prosecutor read out from the parchment he was holding.

"I do," I told him, voice as monotone as ever. I only wanted to get this over with, didn't want to be here anymore. Not with out the man I only wished I could love. The man who did love me. The man who was not here.

Of course, I didn't blame him. Why would he be here. Even if I couldn't love him he did love me. Why would he want to be there for the death of the one that he loved? Or he could just still be angry with me. Or he could have realized that I was not worth loving. No matter the reason, he was not here. Now that I looked, there was actually very few people that actually liked me that were here. There was old school old classmates, mainly those who I had not liked and who had not liked me. They probably just wanted to see me die, to reassure themselves that I was indeed gone. How sick and twisted, even by my standards. I wonder what he would say about that if he were here.

"Mr. Malfoy!" The prosecutor shouted, jerking me out of my thoughts. I gazed at him, trying to see if he looked as disgusted by me as I knew he probably was. I couldn't tell.

"Yes?" I questioned.

"I asked if you're ready," I snorted, surprised that he would even bother asking that question. How utterly ridiculous to ask someone if they were ready to die.

"Sure," I told him. It's not like I had anything left anymore.

He nodded his head and led me over to a brick wall. There was tendrils of ivy growing up it, intermingled with roses. The thorns stabbed me as I leaned back against the wall, unable to hold myself up anymore. I could feel blood slowly trickling down my back now, thorns everywhere stabbing my back. There was so much in the short amount of time that I could feel it begin to lightly soak the back of my shirt. I didn't move.

The prosecutor raised his wand, aiming it at me. I was shaking, wanting nothing more than him, Harry, in that moment. Wanting nothing more than to be able to love him. The man was saying the words now, he was almost done. I could see the jet of green light, almost the same green as Harry's eyes, shooting towards me. Right before it struck home I looked away to see him standing at the edge of the crowd, tears running down his face, with his own wand pointed at his chest. Right before my eyes closed and I was in my body no more I could see green coming out of his own wand, and knew that he loved me enough to be unable to live without me. I knew that when we got where we were going that maybe, just maybe, I would finally be able to allow my heart to love him too. With my last living thought, my world went black and I knew no more.