DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters mentioned and I'm not making any money out of this. Only the plot is mine.

WARNING: This fan fic contains slash themes, which is male/male relationships. If homosexual themes bother you, don't read this.

Rated: R

A/N: Thought I'd say my thank yous first, READ THE EPILOGUE STRAIGHT AFTER THIS CHAPTER!!!!

Xirleb70: Me? Evil? Don't know what you mean! Thanks for all of your reviews, I've appreciated every one, especially the ones about highlights!

SoulSister: oh dear, more tears, I'm actually beginning to feel guilty for making so many people cry!

Sunday: Well here's the ending, tell me what you think!

internalscream: thanks a lot, I know a lot of fan fiction stories are very similar and I'm glad you think mine's original

frizzy: finished my exams! And passed them all! Yippee!! Thanks for the review. I've been reading your story, magnetic attraction, it's really good.

ThomASS: I don't think JK Rowling would get Harry and Draco together, much as I would like her to! Thanks tho!

destinywriters: don't you just love the suspense though? Well I'll put you out of your misery now

BlueEmerald: OK!! Don't die! Here's the end

Thanks you so much to everybody who reviewed, I'm glad you all enjoyed the story. I really enjoyed writing it!

Chapter 15

Draco's feet hit concrete and he instantly opened his eyes to see where he was. They were back in the Temple of Souls, but it was different this time. That evening, the temple was full of people, all dressed in dark robes and hoods. Voldemort had summoned his Death Eaters. Draco looked at them, knowing that the majority of them would know who he was, and shuddered at the thought that his father was amongst them.

Draco felt Harry beside him and wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms and find some sort of comfort, for he was afraid. Once again he had been put in a situation he couldn't control. He hesitantly looked at him, but Harry was looking around him, taking in the view; he looked terrified.

Voldemort, Draco, Harry and Wormtail had been transported to the front of the temple by the alter, the Death Eaters surrounded them in a circle. With the appearance of their lord, they all bowed down. Wormtail slowly moved to take his place in the circle. Voldemort ignored them all, turning instead to Draco.

"Draco, I feel I must apologise for not warning you of my plans for this evening, but you realise the need for secrecy. I'm also sorry that you have to suffer the indignity of having your powers removed."

"I understand." said Draco, still staring warily around him.

"Please tie Mr Potter to the alter whilst I address my other followers." Draco nodded as Voldemort conjured some ropes. He picked them up and dragged Harry towards the alter. He didn't struggle.

"Lie down." said Draco, in a voice which sounded much more confident than he felt. Harry complied silently. Voldemort was droning on about his successful mission and paying no attention to them.

"Harry, listen to me." Draco muttered urgently after checking that they were being ignored. "I've been working with Dumbledore; spying. I didn't know any of this was going to happen. I took your blood because we couldn't see any way out of it. I swear I didn't know."

"I know." said Harry quietly. Draco paused momentarily in his work of tying him up.

"What? How-"

"Nobody told me. I told you before Draco, I know you. I know this isn't you. Besides, when Snape-" He broke off at the look on Draco's face.

"You trust me?" he said weakly. "You still trust me after all that?"

"Yes. I love you Draco." Harry said simply. Draco was silent for a moment, Voldemort was still talking.

"But you don't know what I've done! What they made me do! You can't possibly know who I am." There was a sad, resigned note to Draco's voice.

"Draco, I don't care. I really don't care. I'm sorry that you've had to go through these things, but what they made you do doesn't define who you are. I don't need to know what you've done. Draco Malfoy is the man I made love to this afternoon; the man who loves me; the man who is good and caring. You did those things because you had to. If I didn't know you were sorry, you would be a different person and we wouldn't be having this conversation. You don't need my forgiveness; you only need to forgive yourself." Harry had been speaking quietly and calmly, as though he was talking about the weather. His simple words spoke to Draco of love and forgiveness, and he believed every word that Harry said.

"Thank you." he said softly. He glanced around him and felt the familiar panic rise in him again. "Harry, I don't know what to do. He's going to give me the Dark Mark. I can't refuse. He's going to kill you. I can't let him do that!" He completely failed to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Don't be afraid. We'll think of something. We'll survive." Harry sounded so calm; so assured of the future, that Draco nearly believed him.

"How do you know?"

"Because we have to. We were meant to be together for more than a day and I'll be damned if I let him of all people get in our way." Draco was stunned and touched by the determination in his lover's eyes. He let himself fall under their spell, and let the belief that Harry would save him seep into his mind; comforting and calming him. Whatever happened, he knew that they would be alright. They had to be.

He was jerked suddenly back to reality by the sound of Voldemort calling his name. He reluctantly turned to face him.

"Yes?" he asked, disconcerted by the fact that all of the Death Eaters had begun to chant.

"It is time to start the ceremony Draco." Voldemort hissed.

**********

Draco walked slowly back towards Voldemort, his eyes darting back and forth as the horror of the situation thrilled through him. As he reached Voldemort, they locked eyes.

"I'm ready." he said, truthfully, as he realised that this was his fate all along. Voldemort's red eyes glittered.

"Good." he said.

"What are they chanting?" asked Draco tremulously, trying to stall for time.

"An incantation to bind you to me. As I give you the Mark, their spell will make the connection." Draco couldn't think of anything he wanted less than to be magically bound to Voldemort.

In the centre of the circle again, Draco was facing Voldemort, who had raised his wand. Draco flinched, and Voldemort noticed.

"Do not be afraid Draco. This is a wondrous occasion for you."

"I'm not afraid, just impatient." said Draco, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his mind which was screaming at him to run.

"Hold out your arm." said Voldemort. Draco complied and Voldemort lowered his wand and touched the tip of it to his fore-arm. Draco's eyes shifted to where Harry was lying, he could see him struggling to turn his head to watch, and he was glad that Harry would be unable to see this. The chanting increased in volume as Draco screamed. Blinding, hot-white pain ripped through him. All thought was pushed away as the agony seeped into his mind. His blood was boiling, his bones were shattering, and the sound of the Death Eaters' chanting seemed to echo over and over in his mind; bouncing off the inner walls of his head, multiplying and increasing in volume.

The pain stopped as suddenly as it began, leaving only a dull throbbing in his arm, which was bleeding profusely. The Dark Mark stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin. He collapsed to the floor, sobbing, holding his arm to his body. His mind was completely overcome with the memory of that pain.

Voldemort looked down at him.

"Welcome to our world Draco. You belong to me now."

**********

Harry tried with all his might to block out the sound of Draco's screaming, but he couldn't. The sound pierced his soul, sending waves of nausea through him. From the position Draco had tied him in, he couldn't see what was happening, but he could imagine. He struggled against his bonds, but it was pointless, he couldn't move.

He heard Draco's screaming stop, turning to dry sobs, and then the sound of Voldemort's voice.

"Welcome to our world Draco. You belong to me now."

He wanted to scream 'NO! He's mine, you can't have him!' but knew that it was futile. It was too late. Draco was marked now and there was nothing he could do. He turned his head away from the circle, barely able to think. He'd failed him. Draco had sacrificed everything; everything but his life. Harry couldn't help but think that becoming a Death Eater; being bound forever to Voldemort, was almost the same thing as giving up his life. He turned his head back and was startled to find Voldemort looking down at him. Red eyes bored into his, sending spasms of terror through him. He was forcefully reminded of the day when Voldemort had first regained his body.

There was silence as the two enemies stared at one another.

"How are you feeling Harry?" Voldemort asked quietly. Harry turned his head away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing him afraid.

"What? Not in a talkative mood? How's this then? Crucio!" Harry bit back a scream that held all of eternity in it, as pain that made his blood boil ripped through him. He writhed in anguish, straining against the ropes which held him, pain exploding from his scar.

"Finite incantatum." The pain stopped and Harry was once more staring into Voldemort's eyes, panting. He could feel sweat running down his face. "Ah, you remember that pain don't you Harry? It brings back so many memories. Did you enjoy our little ceremony? I now have another faithful follower, perhaps almost as devoted as his father is. I have heard that the two of you don't get along very well. No matter, he is above such petty squabbling now and you, well let's just say you have other things to think about right now." As Voldemort was speaking, Harry felt the anger begin to build. He could still hear Draco's sobbing in the background, the sound was grating on his nerves and all he wanted to do was strike out at Voldemort. He gave in to his rage, which boiled over and drowned any fear he had of the man.

"You evil bastard! You evil, murdering bastard!" He shouted. Voldemort's face froze.

"Murdering?" he said quietly, a dangerous lilt to his voice. "Oh yes, you must be thinking of poor Remus Lupin. The werewolf. He was your friend I think. Well I have to admit, that really wasn't my doing. I ordered it of course, but the honour of murdering him fell to Wormtail here." Harry turned his head and saw Pettigrew smiling smugly.

"What?" Harry whispered, taken aback at the mention of Lupin.

"Well the stupid mutt kept sticking his nose in. He was very irritating. So Wormtail asked to talk to him; promised he had changed. Played on the fool's emotions, and set up a meeting. Wormtail has a very useful silver hand; you remember the day I gave it to him? You were there. Such a shame that silver and werewolves don't really go together." Harry looked back at Pettigrew, stunned.

"You?" He said hoarsely. "You killed him? He used to be your friend! Did that mean nothing?!" Wormtail continued to smile.

"Not really." he said. Harry's head was spinning. He opened his mouth to speak but found that there were no words to describe what he was thinking.

"Oh dear, does that bother you?" Voldemort mocked. Harry looked back at him, and his anger returned.

"You're disgusting. A wretched, stupid fool who can't see beyond his own prejudices! So your father was a muggle and didn't understand. So what?! Grow up for fuck's sake! You think you're the only one who had a difficult childhood? God you make me sick!"

"Silence! Enough, you stupid boy. Crucio!"

Pain. Burning, agonising pain.

**********

Voldemort lifted the spell, and Harry sagged, drained of all energy. He lay limply on the alter, unable to move. He closed his eyes and wished that the darkness that he found there would just swallow him whole. In that moment he lost all hope. How was he going to survive this? He had no magic; couldn't use his wand. His strength was gone and now Voldemort would kill him. He felt the despair overtake him and hoped that it would be quick. He couldn't do this anymore; there was nothing left for him to hold on to. What could he do when Voldemort's poison seemed to permeate everything?

He heard a sound from somewhere to his right and his eyes snapped open. A slow, hitching breath, inhaled through dry and cracked lips. Draco. From where he was, Harry could see his pale blond hair, tangled and falling loose. Draco. That was why Harry was here. That was why Harry was still breathing. It was Draco that kept him alive; it was Draco that Harry was living for. He needed to help Draco. He couldn't give up now. It was then that Harry realised that no matter how many times Voldemort cast the Cruciatus curse on him, he would still be strong because his strength came from Draco and that was something which couldn't be taken away from him.

Draco.

Harry felt the cords around him loosen and then fall away. Voldemort had released him.

"Stand up." He commanded. Harry tried to lift himself up, but slumped back when his hands slipped from underneath him. Peals of laughter filled the hall as the Death Eaters mocked his weakness. Voldemort stalked over to him and thin, strong fingers grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. Harry whimpered as pain shot once again through his scar.

"You will die like your parents Harry." Voldemort hissed. "It was so easy to dispose of them really; they were so weak, just like you are."

"The only reason I am weak, is because you removed my powers. It's so much easier to kill me when I'm defenceless isn't it?" Harry laughed, an empty sound which echoed through the hall. He was standing straight-backed now, facing down Voldemort; looking his own death in the eye. He wasn't afraid, just sad that Draco would have to be there to see it.

Voldemort frowned at the taunt and raised his wand, pointing it between Harry's eyes.

"Yes." He said "Much easier. Avada Kedavra."

**********

Draco lay unmoving on the floor, willing the pain to go away. Blood was seeping from his arm, pooling beside him. He stared at the puddle, mesmerised by the vivid colour of it. He could hear Voldemort talking to Harry; taunting him. He couldn't concentrate properly, but he heard Voldemort mention Harry's parents. He was vaguely aware of Harry standing, Voldemort had released him.

Harry…no.

As if in slow motion, Draco saw Voldemort raise his wand to Harry who stood, defenceless but proud. Draco stared at Harry, who was staring down Voldemort, and he was afraid. In his mind's eye he saw the curse hit Harry, as it had hit the girl whose life he had taken. He saw the light in Harry's eyes fade as he died screaming Draco's name.

Harry…no.

Harry was special; worth more than this sad ending. His life had a purpose, he wasn't meant to die here. Not like this. Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from Harry's face as he realised that his life had a purpose as well.

**********

Time slows and finally stops, and your face shines through; a mask of terror that belies the courage that is beneath. My love, you will be strong for me won't you?

This is the moment when I can make things right; when I can give back what I owe.

I was reborn in your arms, my love. What we did was forgiveness and trust, and above all love. Things I never knew I could feel. You made me cry and you made me love.

This is for you.

I love you.

I was so tired of life when I died.

Spent every day praying for an ending

That when it came it took me by surprise.

**********

Gathering what strength he had left, Draco moved quickly from his position on the floor, holding his bleeding arm to his body. He could see the words forming on Voldemort's lips and the terrified expression on Harry's face.

As Voldemort finished the spell, he reached Harry, facing the man he loved. He looked into Harry's confused eyes a final time.

"I love you Harry. I'm so sorry. For everything." He raised his hand to Harry's cheek; a final touch. Pressed his lips against Harry's; a final kiss.

He saw the flash of green light, and heard the voice of his father, screaming his name. Harry stood, fear in his eyes.

"No! No I won't let you!"

"It's too late my love."

The spell hit his back and Harry watched the light in his lover's eyes go out. Draco's hand fell from his face and his lifeless form fell into Harry's arms, who crumpled under his weight and began to scream.

**********

The ultimate sacrifice.

I scream silently as I look into your lifeless eyes. Shards of light seem to burst forth, but I can't see. I didn't say goodbye. All sound is blocked out; all I can see is grey. Just like your eyes. It's dark in here without you.

I just found you and now I have to let you go. Your body is cooling and a shiver runs down my spine.

Such beauty, not lost in death.

Why did you do this?

I remember the feel of you inside me; the one and only time I'll ever feel complete now. I can still feel your hands on me; your breath on my skin, so hot it should blister.

You're cold and alone now.

Swirling stars surround me, begging to be explored. I'll float away towards them, but they're meaningless now. Your lifeless eyes will not appreciate them. Your cold fingers cannot touch.

I scream silently and the tears begin to flow. My love is dead.

It's dark in here without you, and I can hear my heart breaking as it dies.

I love you.

I'd tear myself apart

If I thought it'd make a difference.

I'd take off my skin

And hope that the blood would drown and comfort me.

**********

Harry looked up from the body of his fallen lover, tears streaming down his face.

"You bastard" he hissed. "Look what you've done to him! All he ever did was try to do the best he could! All he ever did was love me." His voice failed him. He held Draco's body to him and started to rock back and forth.

"Draco, wake up. Wake up! I love you. I love you. I love you." he whispered, knowing that it was futile but unwilling to accept it. Voldemort looked stunned.

"Well. That was interesting. Better to find out now though, I suppose." He turned to Lucius, who had stepped forth from the ranks of Death Eaters. He'd pulled his hood from his face and was staring at his dead son.

"You raised a traitor Lucius."

"No." Lucius whispered. "Draco. What did you do?" A single tear ran from his eyes. He looked at Harry. "What did you do to my son?" he shouted. Harry stared at him.

"Nothing. All I did was fall in love. He loved me." He whispered, looking back down at the dead boy in his arms. He ran a hand gently through impossibly soft, blond hair. Harry's head shot up again when he heard a laugh escape Voldemort's mouth.

"A Death Eater and the Boy Who Lived!"

The taunt rang harshly in Harry's ears, he gently laid Draco back down and stood up. Rage burnt through his veins; he could hear the blood pumping in his ears.

"You bastard." he choked out again. Voldemort's face became serious, as he surveyed the boy before him who was shaking with anger.

"His sacrifice has been for nothing. Such a waste. Stupid boy." He raised his wand once more.

With a roar Harry lunged for Voldemort. He forgot about magic, he forgot that he was surrounded by Death Eaters, and he forgot that Voldemort was the most powerful wizard of the age. His hands found their way to Voldemort's throat, and he was blinded by the image of Draco's body.

The Death Eaters were closing in, wands raised against him, and Harry didn't care. His cries of rage turned to screams of pain as their spells hit him, over and over. He fell to the ground, curling into a ball. Tears streamed down his face and all he could see was death; the death of the only person he had ever loved. The stench of it fermented in the air, putting a bitter taste in his mouth; or was it his own blood? Blood; it always comes back to blood. In his dreams, in his life, on his hands.

He refused to beg for mercy, and the pain carried on. A terrible pain which blistered his soul; torturing it as it shrivelled away to nothing.

A flash of green light was the last thing he saw. With the sound of Voldemort's high, cackling voice in the background, Harry Potter drew his final breath.

"Draco." he whispered.

**********

On and on it goes, when it stops, nobody knows. With a touch, or a kiss, or a sigh, or a dream? Time crushes us all with circles. With a punch, and a cry, and a tear, and a scream…

**********

The wind pushes back the cyclists,

As they struggle, inch by inch.

The leaves are whipped to attention

Controlled in organised chaos.

Flower petals, made to drop delicately,

Are wrenched cruelly from their home;

Forced to serve the whims of madness.

We struggle, in those first few years.

Crying at the senselessness of the rules;

Confused by those we love.

Then we gently give in; fading into oblivion.

Try as we might, we cage ourselves in,

Bound by the freeness of the wind.

It mocks us, cherishing our pain.

And spreading it to others.

There is no meaning to it,

No motive behind it,

We are all the victims of fate.

Fin