Harry lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing. He should be thinking about Dumbledore's death or whether or not Draco was safe or what would happen next, but he wasn't. He could think of nothing at all. It was as though his brain were a record with the needle caught on a deep scratch. He would try to replay the events in his head, but couldn't. Sometimes he could hardly remember what had happened at all.

It was two days after Dumbledore's death. Most of the student body had gone home. Some hadn't wanted to but were forced by their parents, which no one could blame them for. A handful had absolutely refused to leave until after the funeral, which was to take place the following day. Ron and Hermione were in the common room, talking in dark whispers with the other Gryffindors who had stayed. Harry, however, had wanted to be alone. He wanted to lay in complete darkness and think of nothing. He knew he would have to act soon. To leave Hogwarts, maybe forever, and set out by himself to find the remaining horcruxes. But he had at least 24 more precious hours before that would have to be done. In those remaining 24 hours, he would think of nothing. It was only 8 o'clock, but Harry drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

He was awoken by the latch on his window snapping up. The room was even darker than it had been an hour earlier and the stars outside were obscured by clouds. A figure lifted the window pane slowly, quietly trying not to wake anyone. Harry looked around and saw he was still alone. He raised his wand and pointed it at the figure.

"Don't move or I'll kill you." The figure slowly turned.

"Harry." Draco's voice was hoarse, as though he'd been screaming. For a moment, neither one of them moved. Then Harry dropped his wand and grabbed Draco, pulling him into his chest. A sob ripped from Draco's throat. Harry locked both arms tightly around him, desperately trying to suppress the violent tremors that shook his body, but they wouldn't lessen. Harry guided Draco to the bed, pulling the blanket over both of them and silently held him in the dark, letting his tears drench Harry's shirt and pillow. After a while, his sobs lessened and his breathing became slow and steady. He didn't speak and Harry thought maybe he'd fallen asleep so he stole a glance at him. His face was ghostly in the moonlight and there were two shimmering trails on his cheeks from where tears had run. His eyes were open, haunted, sightlessly gazing into the darkness ahead.

"They killed him anyway." Draco's voice was hollow. "He told me it wasn't too late, but it was. Nothing I did mattered."

"It mattered."

"I didn't save him," Draco said bitterly. "I didn't save anyone. How could it have mattered?"

"You saved yourself."

"If that's true, then why do I feel like dying?" Harry didn't have an answer. If he did, he might have known why he felt the same way. He pushed the hair from Draco's forehead and pressed his lips to the warm skin.

"Sleep here tonight."

"I can't."

"Ron and Neville are the only ones who'll see you're here. And I don't give a fuck what they think, I really don't."

"It's not that." Draco fell silent, measuring his words carefully for several minutes. "I…have to leave tonight. I'm being relocated for my own safety. It's part of my agreement with the Ministry to divulge the names of all the Death Eaters I know of." Harry's throat felt incredibly dry.

"You're giving them names? They'll try to kill you. You've painted a target on your back, you'll-"

"They'll try to kill me anyway," Draco said. "But I can't just do nothing, not anymore. I know it can never make up for the damage I've already done, but it'll ease my conscience a bit." He smiled weakly. "Hey, I guess I have one now." It was several minutes before Harry spoke.

"Where are they sending you?"

"I don't know yet. Far away. To another country." Harry said nothing and Draco continued. "I'll have to change my identity. I can't have contact with anyone who knows who I really am. And…I don't know if I'll ever be able to come back." There was only silence for a long time. Finally, Harry found his voice.

"That's…good. You'll be safe this way. Your life is in danger as long as you stay here."

"But I want to stay here."

"But you can't." Harry didn't know what else to say. He hated himself for the hollow feeling in his chest, like his heart had been removed. He had no right to feel like that. Draco was still for a moment, then reached up to pull Harry's face down to his. Their lips met in the dark.

"I don't want to go," he whispered into Harry's open mouth. Harry pressed his forehead against Draco's.

"I don't want you to go." He bent to kiss him again, but more urgently this time. He could taste Draco's tongue and feel his arm wrap around the back of his neck. He ran his hands down from Draco's face, to his shoulders, to his chest, fingertips grazing over the lean muscle and sharp edges underneath the thin shirt. He knew it was an inappropriate moment to be feeling the way he did, but Harry didn't care. It distracted his mind from the silent, unbearable goodbye that was passing between the two of them. He slipped a hand underneath the shirt. Draco's skin was hot to the touch, but raised with goosebumps. Draco leaned forward and pulled the shirt over his head, then did the same with Harry's. Simply lying there, bare chests pressed together, felt better than Harry could have imagined. He could feel Draco's heartbeat through his chest, increasing as his own did, as Draco's hands strayed from Harry's torso to his jean line, to the erection that Harry hadn't even noticed he had. Draco's fingers traced the material lazily, then found the head of his cock beneath the jeans. Harry sucked air through his teeth. He felt lightheaded. Softly at first, then more firmly, Draco pressed against Harry with his own bulge, grinding ever so slightly. Both were breathing very loudly now and Harry briefly wondered what would happen if someone were to walk in at this moment, but knew he didn't care. He pushed Draco flat onto his back and yanked his pants to his knees, revealing his fully erect cock. Losing all reservations about what was happening, he took him in his mouth, reveling in the groan that escaped Draco's lips. He pulled back a bit, letting his tongue flick up and down its length and along the tip. Draco was holding his breath now, not trusting the volume of his voice if he made any noise at all. Harry went deeper, moving his head up and down, working the rest of the shaft with his hand.

"Fuck. Oh shit…" Draco was gasping, one hand gripping Harry's hair, one entangled in the sheets. Suddenly, he grabbed Harry's face and pulled it close to his. "Fuck me. Right now." He pulled at Harry's jeans impatiently and Harry obliged. Draco knelt and took him in his mouth, getting him very wet before flipping over on his hands and knees in front of Harry. Harry let the tip of his cock rest against Draco for a moment, watching the muscles in his back twitch with anticipation, before slowly leaning forward, pushing into him a few inches. Draco gasped. Harry grabbed his hips roughly and pushed in further, then began to move back and forth, a quick but steady rhythm gently swaying the bed. Harry's head was in a fog, his body was on fire. He thrust inside completely and Draco let out an ungodly moan that Harry was sure would be heard in the common room. He clapped his hand over Draco's mouth.

"Be quiet," he hissed. But Draco took two of his fingers in his mouth, gently sucking and Harry couldn't help but let out a moan as well.

"Be quiet," Draco mocked, smirking. Harry could see that Draco was working his own cock with long strokes. Harry grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and began to lean into him, thrusting harder and faster. Draco put his head down on the bed and worked himself faster and faster as well, matching Harry's pace.

"Fuck…Harry…"

"I'm close," Harry panted. "I'm gonna…"

"Do it. I want you to cum. Oh fuck…" Grabbing Draco by the hair, he pumped harder and harder, letting out a stifled groan as he came, Draco exploding just a few moments after. He sank to the bed and Harry collapsed beside him, both panting heavily. They laid there for several minutes, catching their breath, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Harry reached up and pushed the damp hair from the back of Draco's neck. Draco turned his head to look at him. He smiled but his eyes were sad.

"I wasted so much time being without you."

"Me too."

They lay next to each other in the darkness for a long time, saying nothing. The only movement was of Harry's fingertips, tracing lines and circles into Draco's flesh, disturubing the thin sheen of perspiration collected on his back.

Finally, Draco sat up and pulled on his clothes. Harry watched him in silence. He wanted to beg him not to go, to say or do anything that would make him stay, if only for the night. But he knew it was selfish. Instead he watched helplessly as Draco dressed and rose to leave. He paused for a moment by the bed, his body silhouetted in the moonlight, and Harry reached for him. He threaded his fingers through Draco's, holding his hand, holding him, for one moment longer, in that room. Then he rose slowly, took Draco's face in his hands, and pressed their lips together. Draco pressed back, hard and brief, then pulled away. Everything Harry wanted to say would make things more painful, so he said nothing at all as he watching Draco walk to the window and disappear out of it. Mechanically, Harry returned to his bed. He knew that later he would be angry. Later he would rage at all the things he should have said, at all the useless years he lost to his pride when he could have spent them being happy. But right now he couldn't be angry, not even with himself, because he was able to think of nothing but Draco's face. Nothing but the feeling of their intermingled heartbeats. He lay down in the darkness and stared at the ceiling, reflecting on this, the only memento that he could keep. A single memory where Draco had been his. When, briefly, the two of them had belonged together.