Draco Malfoy gazed silently out of the window, the gray clouds mirrored his eyes and mood, while rain splattered softly against the glass. He sighed heavily and lifted his pale hand, resting it against the windowpane. It was ice cold, and Draco couldn't help but feel that his entire being was as cold as the glass, and probably just as fragile, too. He watched as the shadows played over Hogwarts' grounds and wished he could just sleep, the only way to escape being plagued by his pain and heartache. And guilt.
Severus would be coming by soon to give him a sleeping potion. Draco knew that his colleagues were sympathetic towards him, but especially on this particular day. While he enjoyed being around his fellow professors, he had always preferred being in the presence of Severus. Even though he was currently the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Severus was the still Potions master, he never once saw any bitterness cast towards him from the esteemed Head of Slytherin House.
Ten years, Draco thought to himself. He was twenty eight years old now, and by far one of the youngest ever to be offered a position in teaching at Hogwarts. His success and determination during the war had earned him prestige of his own, regardless of the name Malfoy. His Father had perished when Voldemort had, and all Draco felt was pity, his Father could never stand up for himself.
Draco turned away from the window and cross the room, absent-mindedly taking in the empty classroom. He sat down behind his desk and held his head in his hands, trying in vain to hold back the tears that had been pressing against his eyes the entire day. He could do nothing but think of him, his emerald eyes and raven hair, his lips, his scent. Draco fingered the ring in his pocket without even realising it. He'd been doing that ever since the day it happened, holding the ring and stroking it, staring at it and feeling the memories wash over him again and again. He pulled the ring out, and kissed it, placing it on the empty desk in front of him and wishing for the millionth time that the Harry were with him instead of the cold, silver ring. Then he could make up for what he never did. He bowed his head once again, lacking the energy to hold it up any longer.
Just then Severus Snape swept into the room and his eyes fell on the blonde sitting forlornly, all alone. He silently made his way over to the younger professor and placed the vial of sleeping potion on the desk. Draco looked up and Severus felt his stomach drop at the look on his face.
Complete anguish, most likely the worst feeling ever, Severus knew from experience. It hurt to lose the one that you loved. He smiled sadly, and saw the ring lying on the desk. His eyes flickered back up to Draco's and he saw the tears welling up.
"I'm sorry, Draco," was all Severus could manage, he felt that Draco should be left alone. He moved to leave when he heard Draco's whisper behind him.
"It was a gift."
Severus took a chair from behind one of the empty desks and pulled it up. He wasn't the best at comforting, but he though he could try. He placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, urging him to continue.
Draco had never told anyone of the ring before. Harry had given it to him before the war had begun, right after graduation.
He glanced at the ring and felt his chest constrict. "He gave it to me before the war. It was a promise."
A promise that crept into Draco's mind every moment of every day, and each time Draco would subconsciously check his robes for the small circle of silver and heave a sigh of relief when he was assured that it was still there. The only physical thing that truly made him breath memories of Harry. The only thing that connected him with his lover.
"I-I just can't do this anymore. I miss him too much. He-"Draco's voice cracked and he looked at his former teacher. "Please, just let me alone for now."
Severus knew better than to argue, and with a nod he stood up. Before leaving the room he turned and said, "No one love him more than you, Draco."
Draco glanced up as the door closed inaudibly, and smiled despite himself. How had he known?
Draco had never said it to Harry, never told him he loved him. And by the time he realised, it was too late.
// "Draco, I love you," Harry whispered, "and the war is coming. There's something I must give you."
"I don't need you to give me anything Harry, we're going to win the war and live happily ever after," Draco smirked, unaware of his own naivety. He watched Harry rummage through a small sack on the bed and then turn back to the blonde, holding out a ring.
"This is a promise ring, Draco," Harry began, "and it means I love you. And if something should happen to-"
"-No," Draco cut Harry off. "Nothing will happen, you'll be fine, you're the Boy-Who-Lived and we shall not sit here and say goodbyes. The war will not take you from me."
Harry rolled his eyes and continued as if Draco has said nothing. "Fine. But if something should happen to me, then please keep this ring with you, for as long as you love me. If I'm not here, then you can hold it, and keep it, always knowing it is my promise to love you. Forever."
"And if nothing happens to you, then what do we do with the ring?," Draco asked, a smile forming on his face.
"Doesn't matter. You won't need the promise ring because I am promise enough in the flesh. Please take it, just make a promise to me, please?"
"Anything," Draco replied, taking the ring and examining it.
"Keep it with you if something happens to me, and only discard it when you feel you no longer care for our memories."
"Of course, love. But I'll never stop caring for our memories," Draco answered, "now let's stop this 'if something happens talk', and come here." Draco opened his arms and embraced his Gryffindor, smiling happily. He loved how Harry's body felt against his.//
Draco raised his hand to his eyes and pushed away the tears that were streaming down his face. Every time he remembered that night he felt the twinge in his stomach, stronger as the day grew nearer.
Today would have been their ten year anniversary.
Draco didn't know how much longer he could truly keep up his farce. Every day he was wearing down, the pain was nearly unbearable and the tears threatened on more frequent occasions. He missed him so much.
And he had never told Harry he loved him.
Harry knew, of course, that Draco loved him, and he would have claimed that it didn't matter whether or not Draco said the words.
But Draco knew that he should have, it tore him apart every day when he awoke and saw the sun shining in. No day was bright for Draco, not since Harry had gone. He cursed himself each time he thought of Harry, cursed himself for being so stupid and immature and naive, for thinking that nothing bad would happen in the war. It was a war and Draco had looked upon it as if it were as serious as a Potions quiz.
Draco sat and cried for what could have been minutes, or hours. It didn't matter anymore, not to him. He cried for Harry and for Hermione, for Ron and everyone who loved Harry. Each of them had lost someone they cared for, a green eyed, raven haired boy who was nothing if not brave and heroic. And worst of all, Harry was more deserving of hearing that someone loved him than anyone Draco had known. No one had ever loved Harry like Draco did, and he didn't even have the decency to tell him.
//"I'm sorry, we've done everything. He's just...gone."
Hermione gasped and covered her face with her hands. She buried her head in Ron's shoulder and cried as the news hit her. It was surreal almost, but the pain wasn't. The pain hit them straight away.
"No, no, no" Draco yelled, "NO. He's not gone, he's fine. He'll be fine."
Hermione and Ron had calmly walked over to Draco, and put their arms around him. Ron had silent tears rolling down his face and Hermione was openly sobbing.
Draco pushed them away, hysterical. "No, no. I loved him! He can't be gone, not now. The war is done. It-It's his turn to live now Voldemort's dead!"
And then Draco looked to the faces surrounding him, tear-stained and red. He clutched his hand to the ring that was secure on a chain around his neck and fell to his knees. The floor was hard, and pain shot up through his legs but Draco barely felt it. He cried, and screamed like he was six years old again. "No!" he sobbed out, tears pouring down his pale face. "No," he moaned to the floor, completely void of any emotion except pain.
They tried to pick him up but he wouldn't be touched. He cried on the floor for hours.//
Draco nearly vomited as the memory of that day flashed back into his mind so vividly. He was near the point of breaking, giving up on life. He didn't want anything anymore except to be with Harry. He wanted Harry to know that he loved him so much, would never love anyone else.
And he absently reached up for the ring once again, eyes closed and head resting on his chest.
The ring was not there.
He snapped his head up, frantic. His gaze narrowed on a parchment now sitting on the desk. He blinked away the wetness and touched his hand to the parchment. It was real and Draco noticed that there was writing it. He scanned the room quickly and realised that no one else was there. Vaguely wondering where it came from, he lifted it with his right hand and cautiously looked down at it.
And promptly dropped it as if it had bitten him. He watched it flutter back to the desk.
Trembling, Draco considered whether he had actually gone mad or not. He felt his heartbeat quicken and his hands grow clammy. He wondered vaguely if it was a joke, or some terrible curse. He stood up to leave, unable to redirect his attention back to the parchment in fear that it wouldn't be what he hoped it was.
And suddenly he felt an unseen pressure on his arm, leading his arm down to the floor to pick up the letter. He couldn't force against it and finally, leaned down to grasp the parchment, albeit reluctantly.
He sat again and trained his eyes on the message.
It was Harry's untidy scrawl, one that Draco recognised in the space of a heartbeat. He closed his eyes and reopened them, half-expecting his hand to be empty but no, the letter was still there.
He read.
My love,
I regret to say that if you are reading this, I am not longer here. I know that, because I enchanted the promise ring to turn into this letter on our tenth anniversary, but only if I were gone. And as you read this now, please know that while I am no longer living, it by no means indicates that I no longer love you. I will never forget you, nor will I deny you the pleasure of knowing that when you die, I will be here waiting for you on the other side.
I realise that you must still care about me if you are reading this and, please know that I'll never forget how you loved me. I know you never said the words, and if I know you at all, you're tearing yourself up over it. But it never mattered, Draco, I know how you felt, I could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice and feel it in your touch. Don't you ever get angry with yourself for not saying it, or you'll have me to answer to.
Until its your time, please live life the way we would have. It's what I would want and you know it. And I'm watching over you, you know. You're safe because I'm your soul mate, and if I'm not alive to love you, I'm watching over you and loving you from across the boundaries of death and life. Seasons change inevitably, Draco, and as long as they do I'll be loving you. Love beyond death is the strongest kind of love.
Until the end of time.
Don't forget what we had, and don't forget what it feels like to love.
Yours always,
Harry
Draco read the letter once, twice, and kept reading it over and over until the letters blurred through his tears.
And for the first time since Harry's death, he wasn't crying out of sorrow.