WARNING: There is an incredible amount of angst in this here piece of fiction. Much angst. Not to mention slash-y overtones and character death. And I said I would never write a death fic. *shakes head in shame* Oh well! This has Harry/Draco, told in Hermione Granger's point of view. If you do not like, do not read. Now presenting,

Never Again
***

Playing the part of Harry Potter's best friend is never easy. I mean, with him, there's always the possibility that he'll be killed during one of the attacks on the Dark Side or that he'll be captured and held as hostage or that he'll go into severe depression and come out for weeks on end. To put it very bluntly, there are a million things to worry about in life. With Harry Potter as your best friend, 99 percent of them are about him.

And I am worried about him. He's.. Well, I don't really know how to put this tactfully... he's gone a bit mad. Normally, Harry is very resilient and bounces back after every possible thing that happens to him. Not this time. Let's see, when did this start? Oh yes... three months ago next week.

On that day, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had planned an attack on Hogsmeade. In case you didn't know, Hogsmeade is a huge center for the wizarding economic world. If it had been destroyed, it would've had a gigantic impact on the morale of our troops as well as the wizarding world as we know it.

Well, from one of our numerous spies, we found out about the planned attack and schemed to lead a defense troop into Hogsmeade and fight back when the blow came. Harry was to lead it, but due to an injury during a Quidditch game, he was unable to. Draco Malfoy took his place. When Harry learned of this, he protested violently. We told Harry Draco could be trusted and though Harry was extremely against it, Draco went.

Fortunately, the troop arrived in time. You-Know-Who was beaten back towards the Forbidden Forest. That's when things started to go wrong. Draco, alone, went after him. He didn't report back hours after everyone else had been accounted for. We sent a search party after him. Harry, Ron and I were in it; Harry had already completely recovered.

The moment we set foot in the Forest, Harry went ballistic. He cried out and ran.
We didn't find him until maybe two hours later.

I was the one to find him actually. What I saw broke my heart and made my blood run cold. Harry was... he was crouched next to Draco's body, cradling him in his arms. He rocked back and forth and tears ran down his face. He stared off to nowhere and murmured into Draco's hair, time and time again, "You're not dead, you're not dead, you're not dead. You hear me? You are not dead. Not dead, not dead, not dead."

He looked down at Draco's sleeping face. "You can't be dead. We were going to ride our brooms together into the sunset and kiss and be happy and laugh and love and live forever, with each other." He smiled and said, "You're not dead. Wake up, Draco. Wake up." He shook Draco gently.

"Wake up." He kissed Draco's eyelids. "Come on. Stop joking. Wake up." When Draco didn't, he said, "Fine. Be that way." He giggled and brushed Draco's hair away from his forehead. "You're beautiful. I'll bet you know it too." He giggled again and laid his head on top of Draco's.

I was crying then and didn't even realize. Forever, that image will stay imprinted on my mind, of when Harry Potter held Draco Malfoy's dead body in his arms and said, "Wake up. Wake up, darling. I want to see your silver eyes."

I turned away, for it was such a private moment, but it was then I knew Harry and Draco had been lovers, one soul even. And now... now one was dead. How do you live without half your soul? Easy. You don't. It was also then I knew Harry had gone crazy.

How is he now, you say. Well, he... he thinks Draco's still alive. He gives letters to the school owls to send to Draco, only to have them hoot, bewildered, and give them back to him. He says things like, "I'm meeting Draco tonight, so I can't study with you, Hermione." He wonders where Draco is when he doesn't see him at lessons. It's better this way, I suppose. In a way.

There are only two times he's been remotely sane: at Draco's funeral and at Potions once. At Draco's funeral, as the casket was being lowered into the ground, Harry jerked and stared for a moment. Then, stretching out his hand, he stumbled forth, crying out, "Draco!" Ron and I had to restrain him. For a second, I thought he was going to jump into the grave after his beloved. I think he wanted to. He cried and yelled for us to let him go, but we didn't. "Let me go to him," he sobbed.

The other time he was somewhat normal, he had been searching about the Potions classroom upon entering for Draco. He asked Ron loudly where Draco was. All through the lesson, Harry whispered to us, "I wonder where he is. Do you suppose he's sick?" I patiently replied each time, "I don't know. We'll look for him later, shall we?" But Ron, being himself, snapped at Harry the last time, "My God, Harry! He's dead and in his grave. Cold and dead." Harry's eyes just seem to clear and he looked at Ron with his brilliant green eyes wide and with a stunned expression on his face. A whimper escaped his lips and he bolted from the classroom. Ron started to go after him, but surprisingly, Professor Snape was the one to say, "You have done enough damage. Sit, Weasley."

I asked Professor Dumbledore about how to deal with this, but he just sighed and said, "This is something in which we cannot assist him. The fight he wages with himself must be won by himself. It will not be easy for him. Even an old man like myself can see that his love and dependence on Mr. Malfoy was great. Thank you for your concern Miss Granger, but there is nothing we can do."

For now, Harry still acts as if Draco were alive. He told me once, about a week ago, "I love him so much, Hermione," with a gentle light in his eyes. " I can't imagine living normally without him. I couldn't live without him." I said back to him, "I know, Harry. I know all too well."

Really, he would be normal if not for the fact that he believes Draco's alive. But his mind just can't grasp the concept that his love is dead.

Harry, the Harry from before, is gone. All that's left is a fragile shell that knows no reality. I wish I could figure out the best way to make him... himself again. But I know there is no way. Like I said, half his soul is gone, dead and flown away. Without half their soul, no one can live. So he won't. He never will again.

***
Well, it's done, my first Harry Potter deathfic... You won't get angst from me often, so savor it... Well, you have read, now, review. If you do, I shall love you forever...
Kasumi S.