Draco was walking through the woods half a mile from the village where he was staying, breathing in the fresh air, hands clasped behind his back and his eyes closed. This was the only place he felt at peace. He could think freely about Harry, cry if he needed, or scream if he felt like it. He was alone here with no one around for miles. He was also very far away from London, far enough away that no one would recognize him or find him.

He continued slowly up the path, tilting his head back to admire the branches curving up over his head; the green leaves almost connecting over top, leaving just enough room for a glimpse of the blue sky above. It looked like one of those beautiful murals on the ceilings of great cathedrals or the magnificent halls in France or Italy.

Not for the first time, did he wish that Harry was here with him. They could walk hand in hand, experiencing this secluded paradise together. Draco stumbled and sighed in frustration, he couldn't go through one day without thinking of Harry it seemed.

He sat heavily on a nearby log. His heart ached painfully when he thought of Harry. Thoughts of the last time he had seen him made him wince; Harry crumpled on the floor, crying, telling him that he loved him...begging him not to leave. But what hurt most of all was the memory of Harry accusing him of not loving him.

The truth was, Draco loved Harry more than anything else in the world, more than life itself. It had been almost a year since he had last seen Harry on that horrible day. It felt as if it had been an eternity since he last touched Harry, he desperately wanted to hold him and kiss him, and tell him over and over that he loved him.

            These past few months had felt as if a part of him was missing. He realized that life without Harry was meaningless. He used to spend his days thinking up ways of making Harry happy or causing him to smile that smile that melted his heart and lit
up those emerald eyes, to hear that infectious laugh that would make his stomach flip every time, no matter how often he heard it.

    He wondered every day how Harry was doing. So many times he had almost gone back just to catch a glimpse of him, to see if he was alright. The newspapers were forbidden to do any articles on Harry because it might compromise his safety, so he had no way of knowing what was going on. He toyed with the idea of writing to Hermione to ask about him, but never got up the nerve. She would most likely be very angry with him, and for good reason.



He wondered if Harry had moved on. It affected him deeply to think of Harry with someone else, but he also hoped that it was some one who wouldn't rip his heart out and walk away like he had. Harry deserved some one who had the courage to stay and not take the coward's way out.

He winced inwardly at the bluntness of his thoughts. For the first time in his life he had backed down from something he was terrified of. He had left the name 'Malfoy' a long time ago, but he still felt disappointed at his lack of the famous Malfoy courage and pride. If his father could see him now he would be very ashamed...not that he cared what
his father thought anymore, since he had ruthlessly killed his mother and had tried to kill Harry before Draco stepped in.

That had been the beginning of their relationship - Draco the hero. Now he was just a miserable wretch, wallowing in regret.

He often wondered what Harry's new boyfriend looked like and tried to picture him in his mind. He saw a man very similar to Harry himself; sweet, gentle, loving, gorgeous, and a great sense of humour. Maybe the same tussled, black hair, creamy skin and soft lips. A lean, muscular body...

He quickly shook his head, trying to shake the image of Harry from his brain.

Still, the thought of Harry, his Harry, with some one else angered him. He hated that imaginary man that was now sharing Harry's life. He felt enraged at the thought of some one else touching his Harry...

But he wasn't his Harry anymore.

Draco got off the log and started heading back to his hotel in the village.

He had come to the conclusion that life without Harry wasn't worth living, and as he wasn't about to commit suicide then he would just have to go back. Hopefully, Harry still loved him, even if it took a lot of begging and pleading to get him to take him back.

            If Harry was going to die then he would spend every waking moment with him until that time came. He couldn't live without Harry anymore. He was going to go back and tell Harry what he deserved to hear - that he loved him once and for all.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *                     

            Harry sat in his new flat staring blankly at the television screen. He watched the same show every day because the actor in it reminded him of Draco, he had the same aristocratic bone structure and gleaming blond hair. He had no idea what the story was about, he just liked to watch Draco's twin and think about other things. He never told Hermione or Ron about the habit though, because they would just give him that look that said 'when are you going to move on with your life?'

He knew they were worried about him. He hadn't eaten or slept properly for almost a year now and it was beginning to show. He had lost a lot of weight, sported permanent dark circles under his eyes, and hadn't gone outside once.

Every day Hermione would beg him to take a walk with her outside and get some fresh air and sun on his pale skin, but he always refused. Going outside reminded him too much of the day Draco left...

No, he wouldn't go out again.

He didn't even want Ron and Hermione to see him anymore. Their obvious concern at his appearance written plainly on their faces was just too much to take. He felt better when no one questioned or bothered him. Pretty soon people started leaving him alone, even Dumbledore had stopped coming when it was obvious Harry didn't enjoy the company.

Harry realized that the show was over and turned the television off, the sudden silence enveloping him.

He stood up and walked to the window, leaned his forehead against the sun warmed glass and sighed. He knew how pathetic he was acting, knew that Ron was right, that he had to move on and forget Draco. It was just so hard, he missed him so much...

"Draco probably has some one new by now," he thought bitterly. "They're probably lying in bed right now, laughing and talking about how stupid I am and what a fool I was. His new lover's probably wondering how I could have thrown away such a perfect man. So what if he didn't love me? I felt loved, and I loved him enough for the both of us."

Harry groaned inwardly. "I am pathetic."

The phone suddenly rang, causing Harry to jump and smack his head against the glass.

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his head and reaching for the receiver.  "Hello?"

"Hi, Harry!"

It was Hermione, talking with the false cheerfulness that he was now used to.

"Hi, Hermione. What's up?" he asked, cautiously touching his forehead to check for damage.

"Ron and I thought we'd come over and make you dinner."

"Sure."

"Really?" Hermione sounded a bit shocked, usually it was harder to convince him to have company.

"Yeah, I'm starving and there's nothing here to eat," Harry complained.

"Er, are you okay Harry?"

"I'm fine, why?"

"Well, you haven't gotten enthusiastic about eating for...well, for a long time."

"I know," Harry chuckled. "But now I am, and I'm starving."

"Great," Hermione sounded truly happy. "We'll just go get the ingredients and come over around six."

"Okay, see you then." Harry hung up the phone with a smile. "That's it," he decided. "I'm no longer going to wallow in misery. I'm going to be happy and forget about Draco, I refuse to waste anymore energy on him and I'm going to start living again."

Feeling elated, Harry walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge door. His lack of appetite was very apparent in the contents of his fridge, it was almost empty except for some milk, cheese, and celery. He smiled and decided that he would make Hermione happy by walking with her to the market tonight to buy some groceries.

Just then a loud knock echoed from the front door. Harry shut the fridge and strode over to look through the peep hole. There was a strange man standing there, wearing a uniform of some sort and holding a box and a clipboard.

Harry glanced at the Dark Detector on the wall. It remained quiet, so he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Are you Harry Potter?" the man asked.

Harry's eyes widened. He had taken the name 'Roger Davis' while living here and only his close friends and some of the professors knew where he really was. Something felt wrong...

"No, I'm sorry. My name is Roger Davis," he lied smoothly. "Maybe this Harry lives in the apartment next door."

The man sneered slightly as his eyes lifted to the scar on Harry's forehead.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Well, goodbye." Harry started to shut the door, but the man quickly stuck his foot in the jamb.

Harry struggled vainly against him, but in his weakened state he was no match. The man shoved the door open, sending Harry flying backwards. Harry turned and ran towards the living room, but the man caught up and grabbed him from behind, roughly pushing him to the floor. Harry flipped himself over to stare at the man's face as he kneeled painfully on his chest.

"You can't fool me, Potter," he growled.

That voice was so familiar...

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

"Don't you recognize my voice?" he sneered, placing a hand tightly around Harry's throat.

"Oh, my God," Harry gasped. "Mr Malfoy."

The man slapped him hard across the cheek and stars swam before his eyes.

"Very good, Potter," Lucius growled. "Now if you would be so kind as to touch this for me."

Mr Malfoy opened the package that he had been carrying earlier and carefully removed a large, red ruby. Harry instantly knew it was a portkey, Lucius was holding it by a handkerchief as he held it in front of Harry's face.

"No!" he shouted, turning his head to the side and looking at the clock on the wall. It was almost six, if he could just hold him off a little longer then Ron and Hermione would arrive.

He was rewarded for his refusal with another slap across the face.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" Lucius drawled patiently, enjoying himself.

"I'm not going to willingly go anywhere with you!" Harry spat.

        "I think you'll change your mind." Lucius suddenly unsheathed a sharp dagger from his belt and held it against Harry's throat. Pressing the blade painfully into his skin, but not hard enough to draw blood. "How about now?" he smirked.

         Harry's blood boiled as he tried to stay strong, just a few more minutes...

"Never," he whispered with venom.

The knife was lifted as Mr Malfoy raised a brow questioningly at him. "Just like your father, Harry," he spoke, stroking a finger down his cheek. "Which is a pity, he was a real fool too."

"Well, I'm happy to say your son's not anything like you."

The knife flashed so fast that he almost didn't see it, then a searing pain blinded him as blood seeped from a deep gash in his cheek and ran down into his hair and onto the carpet.

"Never mention my son again," Mr Malfoy snarled.

Before Harry could reply, Mr Malfoy had shoved the ruby into his palm. He felt the pull of the portkey as he disappeared before Lucius' eyes.

Lucius smiled grimly and stood up. He threw the blood stained dagger on the floor and removed his wand from his pocket. The effects of the polyjuice potion were beginning to wear off as his long blond hair slowly appeared and his face thinned out from the shape of the muggle delivery man he had killed earlier. He raised his wand and muttered something under his breath, then smiled in satisfaction as he heard screams from outside. He took another ruby from the same package and vanished instantly from the room.

Ron and Hermione arrived fifteen minutes later to see the Dark Mark floating above Harry's building.