Sweet Oblivion
A/N: Angst is your friend… Angst is my friend too… Angst will ravish you as you sleep… MUHUHAHAHA!
thisistheendofeverything
"The war is over," said a familiar voice. Draco turned from the gravestone, startled, to face his companion.
"It's no use mourning over what can't be recovered," Harry said solemnly, taking a seat on the dusty ground next to Draco.
Draco felt a churning in his stomach as Harry leaned over him to brush ivy from the marble stone. They were so, so close; it would just be so easy to touch him again, to fall into the same trap… Satisfied with the arrangement of the ivy, Harry settled his glasses on his nose and tilted his head to look at Draco.
Draco looked away quickly. Harry looked so much older, so much wiser, and it would be so unfair… But so right… But so unfair to Harry… Just to do it one more time…
Draco's breath hitched in his throat as Harry glanced away and whispered, "Don't worry. I know. I remember."
"W-what?" Draco stammered, blushing profusely. "Y-you can't, I… I – you're not supposed to remember."
"I know I'm not," Harry snapped. "And every day since it happened, I wish I couldn't remember. Do you know how hard it is, Draco, to see you, and watch you pretend it never happened? How hard it is to be who I am, without you adding to the strain of it?"
"It was hard for me too!" Draco cried, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I thought – I thought it would work. I thought you didn't know. I thought… I thought you forgot."
"You thought I forgot because you Obliviated me," Harry muttered. "But you didn't know that memory spells can't work on me. You didn't know how much – how much I loved you."
"If I had known, what would have changed?"
"Everything would've changed, Draco. You wouldn't've joined the Dark Lord. You wouldn't've died of loneliness."
Draco stared at him, open-mouthed. A single tear dripped down Harry's face and fell into his cupped hand.
"I know," Harry whispered. "I was there."
"Y-you said it yourself," Draco replied quietly. "It's no use mourning over what you can't recover."
"Yeah; but you wish you could recover this. You can't, Draco. We can't go back. The war was three years ago, and yet you still sit here, grieving for people you never knew, and people you wish you couldn't remember."
Draco turned away from Harry. He stared without seeing a couple walking slowly towards where he and Harry sat. The tall man with red hair clasped the hand of a girl with curly brown hair. Even though they were still far away, Draco could see that they'd been crying.
"Here they come," he said to Harry, getting to his feet. "I'd better go. They wouldn't want to see me here."
"I'll come too," Harry said quickly, glancing at the approaching couple.
Draco and Harry walked together through the cemetery, not touching, not speaking, but somehow both thinking the same thing. They were both lost in memories that should've been forgotten, visions of things that never should've happened.
"Harry," Draco finally said, as they approached the gates. "How did you die?"
"The same way you died," he said, turning away. "I loved you too much."
"Harry – wait," Draco called, even as his figure melted into the shadows. A few tears ran down his face as he moved back into the graveyard to sit where he always sat.
As he came near his usual seat, he stood at a distance and watched the couple kneel at the tombstone.
"What I don't get," Ron said, jabbing a finger at the stone next to it, "is why they buried him next to this."
"You never know, Ron," Hermione replied, taking his hand, "I guess they knew something we didn't."