Harry returned to his dormitory, eyes tearstained, face drained of all colour. It was the beginning of a new life, now Dumbledore was dead – his mission to find the Horcruxes had now begun. His old, safe life at Hogwarts had ended with the Headmaster's life, and he was about to embark on a new one.
A life without him.
The majority of the tears shed by Harry today had been because of him.
Right now, he almost hated him. Had he ever truly loved Harry? Or was it all lies, like everything else? He had been a Death Eater, after all his promises to the negative, after all the times he had sworn that he had wanted no part in the Dark Lord's regime. Yet, he had that ghastly Dark Mark emblazoned on his skin, and Harry had seen, that night, how he had nearly killed Albus Dumbledore. After Snape had finally done the deed, Draco Malfoy had run away – without a backwards glance, or a fleeting kiss.
The tears began to fall once more, as Harry pushed open his dormitory door. The room was empty; the castle was deathly quiet after the horrific events of that night. Harry made his way slowly to his red four poster bed, and crept underneath the heavy bed covers. He sank into his pillow, tears still falling from his dark green eyes.
He felt something. What was that, underneath his pillow? Something silky and cold was tucked into a corner of the four poster bed. Harry took a firm hold of the material, and pulled it out of its corner.
It was a tie.
Not Harry's tie, not red and gold – but instead, silver and green.
Slytherin.
Draco Malfoy's tie.
Harry remembered – tears falling more freely than before – how the tie had come to be there. Only last week – so much had changed since then. They had curled up on the bed, holding onto each other, promising never to leave the other.
Harry had known that Draco was depressed – he had been witness to breakdowns, to fits of tears. He had seen with his own eyes the scars on Draco's wrists; he had seen him trying desperately to wash blood off of his shirt. He had held Draco close, held him in his arms, and had tried his best to comfort him. Draco had put his white blonde head on Harry's shoulder – burying his face into Harry's shirt, sobbing.
He hadn't asked what was wrong. He didn't dare to.
Had he been uncaring and insensitive? The truth of the matter was that he had been scared – scared at what Draco's troubles could be. Would it be something to do with him? He had been scared of the consequences of any actions that he took – if he had stuck up for him, everyone would know they were in love. And what would happen then? Prejudice and hatred would follow. He would be disowned, abandoned by his friends and his house – for liking a Slytherin, the person who had made his, and everyone else's lives hell for so long. He had thought it best to just let Draco deal with it alone – while Harry comforted him and mopped up the bloodstains. Anonymous, keeping a simple, secret relationship. He was a coward – the boy who had faced Voldemort so many times was scared of the thoughts a bunch of students had of him.
He regretted it all now. He wished he had done more for him – he now knew what he had been going through.
How could he blame Draco, when he had done nothing to help him?
Draco had been through so much, Harry could see that now. He had been through more than anyone should have to deal with – committing a murder against his will? He had seen his pale face, shaking in fear – "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"
At the time, Harry had felt purely resentment towards him – he had been lying the whole time to him, lying about his intentions with the Dark side – he hadn't thought about what Draco had been saying. Now, as he remembered his words, pity filled him up inside – the pressure that had been on him must have been enormous.
As Harry held the silk tie in his hand, staring at it, unmoving – he revisited all the times he had shared with Draco Malfoy, and regretted bitterly all the times he had not involved himself with his problems – but had just left him on his own. Alone to cry, alone to sob – alone to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
And as Harry was about to drift off into what promised to be a troublesome sleep, he remembered the last words Draco had spoken to him.
"You know that I love you, don't you Harry?"
It had been a sudden change of topic, a departure from Draco's normally sarcastic attitude.
"Yes, and do you know that I love you too?"
Draco had smiled weakly.
"No matter what happens, Harry, no matter what may happen in the future – I want you to know that I will always love you".
At the time, Harry had smiled, thought it sweet, and had gathered Draco into his arms.
But now, looking back on it – its true meaning was clear.
Draco had known that Harry's heart would break as he left Hogwarts, but he had wanted him to know – he would always stay true.
Harry's sobs filled the once quiet room.