Title: The Lovely Show
Pairing: HP/DM, HP/TN
Word Count: 2,654
Rating: K
Summary: Draco watches as Harry moves on. Slash, oneshot
Author's note: At the bottom (:

All I believe, and all I've known
Are being taken from me back at home
Yeah do your worst, when worlds collide
Let their fear collapse, bring no surprise
Take me out of here

Pendulum - Watercolour

He hadn't meant to die. He hadn't planned it that way, he wasn't ready for it and he certainly didn't approve of the way it had happened; killed a good six months before the final battle had even begun. It was an unlucky and frankly an embarrassing coincidence that he had been down that particular street the day Death Eaters decided to attack and it had been even more unfortunate that he had, in an effort to save a panic-stuck woman, turned his back and was unable to see the Death Eater approach him. It had taken three swift thrusts of a poison dagger into his back to bring him down and, if it got any worse, he had landed on the screaming women and traumatised her even more. He had been trying to help her and by doing that had made things worse.

He hadn't been allowed time to settle his affairs or say goodbye to his mother. He hadn't had time to see his favourite places, kiss his friends or destroy the porn he'd stashed under his mattress which would lay there until his mother found it a few months later when she got the strength up. He also didn't have time to say goodbye to his love, Harry Potter. Harry was his everything; his sun, his moon and everything in between. He was his every thought and his every dream. Harry Potter was his. The one thing he owned completely, the person he'd miss more than anybody, the person who would be the most destroyed by his sudden death. Merlin he had fucked up.

Death wasn't like what he had imagined. The blackness of nothing didn't embrace him yet there were no pearly white gates of heaven or fiery pits of hell he just…was. He didn't have a physical self; he wasn't anything he recognised or anything that had ever been described. He was the air, he was the wind, he was the pulse of the sun and the hum of the moon. He couldn't touch nor be touched. He couldn't be seen, heard, tasted or generally recognised as anything – he found that the most depressing.

In his form he could see and hear anything he wanted. He watched from above as his body was found and taken away. He watched as some Ministry guys identified him not as son of Lucius Malfoy, lethal Death Eater, but as Harry Potter lover. That had made him smile: Being recognised as Harry's.

He watched as they debated what to do and who was going to tell Harry. Harry was the key to the war after all and they couldn't afford him to sink into depression due to the grief of a lost loved one and they all knew that Harry loved him. It had been scandalous, their love, from the very beginning. From the first time they'd walked into Hogwart's Great Hall holding hands too the very end. They'd been splashed across papers, magazines and radio stations; pictures of their rare dates, articles about their training and rumours of their escapades. They had been the most popular wizards of the year, the hottest, the most admired but also the most hunted.

They had ignored it all of course. They had had each other. They had been untouchable.

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt whom had the job of delivering the news of his death to Harry. He had been chosen because he was on friendly terms with the couple having trained them in the past and because he was considered the most soothing out of the burly aurors available. He was glad Harry was hearing of his death from a friend but regretted the fact that as soon as the words slipped from Kingsley's lips Harry would no longer see him as a friend; he had just handed Harry the worst day of his life after all.

Watching Harry sink to the floor as he screamed broke his heart. He tried to reach out, to hold his smaller love until he could feel nothing but safety only he couldn't. He was dead.

Harry didn't get out of bed for a week after he was given the news. He didn't eat, shower or move for anything other that water and to go to the toilet. He wore one of his jumpers; a green one that had his scent embedded into it and some pyjama bottoms. He didn't sleep, merely stared into space, ignoring anyone who spoke to him and flinching every time he was touched.

It broke his heart.

A week after he'd been given the news Harry moved again. He went back to his training, his work and his exercises. He pushed himself harder and harder, his depression driving him. He rarely slept and ate only when forced. He was barely recognisable after two weeks and not in a good way.

It was then that he came along.

Theodore Nott hadn't been one of Draco's close friends though they had shared a dorm for seven years. They had rarely spoken and even when they had it had been nothing more than a few words in passing. Theo had had his world which had been filled to the brim with the goal of becoming an Assassin. It was common knowledge in the Slytherin House that the boy ate, slept and breathed for his clan. Assassin's were picked at birth and grew up in a mysteries world full of danger and death that regular wizards had little chance of ever understanding. Theo had taken his studies more seriously than anyone else in their year Draco knew off and would get up at ridiculous hours for training, exercising and genuinely mould himself into a perfect killer. Draco had never understood.

Now, now that he saw what was happening, he wished he had paid more attention to the other boy.

He watched their first meeting with narrowed eyes. Harry had been on a run, the kind of run that left him gasping for breath and muscles cramping, and it was so early in the day that the sun had yet to fully rise and a dewy coat covered the grass of the Hogwarts grounds.

Theo had also been out but not on a run. He was down at the lake doing some drills with his two beloved daggers like he did every morning. He hadn't thought he'd be disturbed, no one had ever come down there before, and had taken his shirt off and had a pair of loose sweat pants on as he went through the steps like a dancer, carving the air with the daggers.

Draco had watched Harry from the lake shore. Watched as his lover stared at Theo's dancing figure with a small spark of curiosity in his eyes; the first sign on life in them Draco had seen since his death.

Theo obviously knew he was being watched but he had finished his work out anyway. The person was obviously not a threat, or they would off attacked by now, and anyone out this early obviously had some problems so he didn't turn around until he was completely finished.

The minute Harry's green eyes met Theo's blue Draco knew he was soon to be replaced.

Love was a funny thing. Unlike in stories such as Romeo and Juliet and Cinderella it did not hit one over the head as soon as eyes met but grew steadily until a person's world was entirely consumed.

Draco watched this happen to his love.

At first Theo and Harry bonded over their mutual desire to work. They would work out together; go on runs, duel and study. The rarely spoke when together and Draco found himself oddly comforted by this. Harry was obviously still grieving and was only viewing Theo as an escape. Theo, being a decent and some what lonely guy, allowed Harry his lease. No spark of love in sight so far.

When the final battle seemed imminent Harry spoke one of his rare sentences to Theo and asked him to teach him how to fight, assassin style.

Theo had agreed and so their work began. Draco would watch them work for hours. Watch as Theo beat the shit out of his Harry until Harry finally caught on with the skills and began to fight back. By the end of their work Harry would be black and blue but he would have a trace of a smile Draco had not seen since he died.

Their relationship went up a notch when Theo found Harry crying that night.

Harry had very rarely cried in his life. At the Dursley's he had been taught crying wouldn't get him anything other that a runny nose and maybe an extra mean word from his uncle. He had lasted an entire two months before the floor gates opened and all of the emotions he had kept locked since Draco's death came pouring out.

Theo had found the teen in one of the empty classrooms they used for knife work slumped on the floor looking hysterical. Tears poured, fists tightened in hair and sob escaped. Draco watched Theo fumble for a a good half hour before the emotionally stunted teen gave up, took the hysterical boy in his arms and carried him to the Hospital wing. Both Theo and Draco had watched from two different perches as Madam Pomfrey attempted to calm the boy down only to sigh ten minutes later and force a dreamless sleep down the teen's throat.

Unlike Draco, Theo didn't stay the night. Instead he went back to the classroom and threw his mind into his daggers. Thinking about Harry was confusing. Thinking about his daggers was easy.

Their relationship turned strained after that night. Harry was awkward at having showed weakness as great as his and Theo, having had no real friends before, had not understood why Harry was acting weird and had just fell back into himself to avoid any embarrassment.

Draco could only roll his eyes.

He had decided, over the past couple of months Harry and Theo's relationship consisted off, that Harry couldn't be alone. Harry shouldn't be alone ever. He had been alone all the way up until halfway through his sixteenth year and Draco had fallen for him. He had been isolated, ridiculed, used and pestered all the way through his life until he'd had Draco and now the blonde was gone it meant he was back to his old self. Draco loved Harry more than ever but he knew that without someone to lean on, without someone to give Harry a way out, he would crash. Theo, though socially inept and a professional murderer, could be the one that got Harry through this war and to the other side. Not that either of them would realise it until later.

It was Harry the recognised the first signs of love. He would look at Theo differently; watch the muscles in his chest and the elation when he picked up his daggers. Theo, oblivious as always, just raised an eyebrow when he saw these lingering looks, unaware what the tightening in his stomach meant.

As an Assassin he had been trained to notice little details. For instance he knew when Dumbledore's eyes twinkled he was lying about something he felt was for the greater good. He knew that Snape enjoyed his bantering with McGonagall over their Quidditch teams and he knew that when Harry's fists clench at his sides he was thinking about Draco. He knew a lot about Harry, some would say too much. He didn't remember learning it but he knew things he doubted Harry knew like when his nose twitched he was frustrated, when he was pissed off he'd stand stock still and pinch the skin of his forearms till he calmed down and when he was doing press ups he preferred to do them facing the sun.

Draco was the only other witness to their first kiss. The only one who saw Harry finally release the feelings he'd been keeping locked up due to guilt of moving on too quickly and pull the still oblivious Theo in for a kiss.

Now, although Theo was visibly gorgeous and could have almost anyone he wanted if he so wished he had never even touched another intimately before. As an Assassin he'd been trained that to love another person, to even like anther, was a weakness he could not afford to have until absolutely certain it was for life. Assassins didn't do casual flings or flirty touches – they rarely touched at all if they could help it – they did marriage, bonding and life commitments. They couldn't afford to have attachments to people whom they would grow apart from; they couldn't afford the distraction unless it was true love. So, due to this, Theo was a virgin in every single relationship area. No one had ever held his hand or kissed his cheek or ran fingers through his hair. He had grown up away from his mother and father, had spent no more than a four days a year in their company for the past eighteen years of his life. Anonymous Assassins had been his family and the closest thing to a friend was his partner, Blaise Zabini though they only talked when planning one of their kills.

Draco watched Harry kiss Theo with a force one may call desperation. Desperation to be accepted, held and loved the boy whose lips were held in his own. He watched Theo slowly relax into the smaller teen and put a hesitant hand to a bony hip. It was awkward, it was short and it was nervous. What followed was anything but.

Following the beginning of their romantic relationship Draco would watch every second of their time together. Eyeing the way Harry was slowly teaching Theo how to be intimate, how the green eyed man was soaking up the strength of the strong Assassin beside him and forced an immortal smile. He was happy Theo was fixing his Harry, bringing him back from the darkness and giving him something to fight for, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of jealously every time they got into bed together or brushed against each other. Harry was getting a second chance at love, of happiness, and what was he getting? The fate of watching every moment of this blooming romance. Too watch Harry fall in love all over again, forgetting him. How was that fair?

It seemed that that indeed was his fate.

The final battle came and went. Voldermort fell and Harry collapsed into the arms of Theo instead of his like it should have been. Theo was the one whom Harry moved in with after leaving school, Theo was the one whom Harry came home too and whom came home to Harry. Theo was the one who got to sleep with Harry in his arms and who got to watch Harry in the throws of passion.

Harry had been in love with Draco and had fallen apart when Draco had left him. Theo had been the one to put Harry back together and who Harry had found a new chance at happiness with. Draco was the one whom watched his lover from a world trapped away from life, and who had clung on to that world so hard, so desperate to stay, that he was stuck to serve eternity in his world of bodiless emotions.

Theo had taken Draco's life and was living it for him to watch from above and Draco had yet to figure out if he was grateful he was getting to see what it would have been like if he had lived or angry that Theo had so blatantly stolen everything that was his, everything he held dear.

Harry had fallen in love with an Assassin and Draco had watched from above, loving Harry until the day he died.

Author's note: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it (: let me know what you think.

This was a small thing that I wrote today because I'm feeling guilty about basically abandoning Fool For You. I've lost my way with that a bit, the result of a crazy April, but i have the ending writen and just need to write the chapters in between now. I hope anyone who had a small interest in my story will forgive me and will stick with me - I'm going to put it out there that Fool For You will be finished by June 30th at the latest.

Thanks,
Pocket x