My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy. I sincerely hope that you, whoever you are, will not miss me much when I go…I will be going soon as you know. I can not take it here any longer. My life is empty. There was something missing and I searched, but could not find it. I am sorry if I have let you down dear pen pal. We have been so secretive yet, I feel as if you understand me. I told you my name only for the reason that this is the last that you, or anyone will hear from me ever again. But I doubt that anyone will care. Not as long as the world has Harry Potter.

Have I told you about Harry Potter my dear friend? He's my worst enemy, yet, he, besides you, knows me better than I do myself. We've hated each other for going on seven years now. I am sure you wish to know how I could hate such a creature… I am not too sure myself these days. I have thought about it often these past few months. I can't help wondering what might have been if HE hadn't refused my friendship. True, I never really sought it. I can see him now, sitting a few tables away from where I am writing this epistle… his messy black hair in his emerald green eyes, eyes that flash with such hatred when they look at me. Hatred and wonder. Could it be, friend, that he has been pondering our animosity lately as well? Sometimes, I want to send him an owl, but then I get this feeling in my heart that if he rejected my letter, my heart would break. I realized yesterday that I loved him. I love him as I will love no other. And so, you see why I must go through with this? I can not escape my feelings, except through death. I can't help wondering, will he think of me, without hate…when I am dead?

I hope I have not burdened you with this, but I need to tell someone, and you're the only friend I have now. Could you please, when I am gone, tell Harry that I loved him?

Sincerely, Draco Lucius Malfoy

Draco Malfoy finished his letter and sealed it. He glanced back at the solitary Gryffindor sitting at a table, reading a novel. Just for a second, the other boy looked up and stared into the grey eyes of his "enemy". Then he looked back down at his book. Draco sighed, even more resigned to his fate. And with quick steps, he left the library and proceeded to the Owlery where he would borrow an owl to post his letter…his last letter ever.

As he watched the owl fly away into the night sky, the reality of what he was about to do struck him and he sighed deeply. " It is now or never Draco. You can't go on like this. The one person you've ever truly loved is the one person you will never have and no one can know about it, not until you are dead. Once I am gone, Voldemort can't use me. He can't touch me and he can't use me to get to Harry. And my father, he will be ashamed of me. He will curse my name forever. But I don't care. I won't live to be a tool, to hurt him. If it were at all possible that I had a chance with him that is. No. I am doing it…tonight."

And he quickly walked to his laboratory in one of the abandoned dungeons. There, a cauldron was bubbling, lit by a tiny conjured flame. Inside, was a potion. Blood Red in colour and sweet to the smell. It was nearly complete. He needed just one more ingredient.

Draco produced a long dagger from under his robes and drew it across his skin, letting the blood flow into the solution gurgling in the steaming cauldron. He stared at it for a moment, slightly dazed from the loss of blood, which was still flowing from his gashed wrist. Then he took a glass from the table next to the cauldron, and a ladle. He dipped the ladle into the bubbling potion and poured it into the glass. He put the glass to his lips, thoughts of Harry dancing in his head…"You are the last thing I will ever think about…" And he gulped down the liquid in hot, burning draughts.

The poison worked quickly, he felt like he was on fire, yet freezing at the same time. He fell over, no longer in control of what he was doing. He was close to death and the pain was intensifying…he screamed. "HARRY!" and fell over onto his face in disgraceful disarray. DEAD.

"HARRY!" A shock went through Harry's body and he thought he had heard someone screaming his name. "Huh?" He said looking up. There was no one around except for Madame Pince who was straightening a nearby shelf. "Maybe I am imagining things." He thought to himself before looking down at his book again. Yet, something didn't feel right. Earlier Malfoy had been staring at him, a look of deepest sadness etched on his usually arrogant face, a look at his true feelings for a split second before the mask of haughtiness was assumed again. And deep inside, Harry felt as if he had just lost something. Something he desperately needed to survive. But his thoughts were distracted by the sudden appearance of an owl at his table, a letter tied to it's foot for Harry. He opened it, the familiar writing of his pen pal visible in green ink. He began to read…

"My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy…"

So THAT was who his pen pal was… "But," said Harry, "Why would he tell me? We agreed to total secrecy…" he read on…

"I sincerely hope that you, whoever you are, will not miss me much when I go…"

"Go where?" Harry wondered.

"I can not take it here any longer. My life is empty. There was something missing and I searched, but could not find it…"

"Oh Draco! I can help you find it!" Harry said to himself.

"I told you my name only for the reason that this is the last that you, or anyone will hear from me ever again. But I doubt that anyone will care. Not as long as the world has Harry Potter…"

"Why do you think that Draco? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!?"

Harry continued reading, hoping that Draco would better explain himself. "I realized yesterday that I loved him. I love him as I will love no other…"

"WHAT?!?"

"And so, you see why I must go through with this? I can not escape my feelings, except through death. I can't help wondering, will he think of me, without hate…when I am dead? "

"Oh my gods!…."

"Could you please, when I am gone, tell Harry that I loved him?"

No…Harry's mind was saying in shock…No! "NO!" Harry screamed. " Mister Potter! Silence in the library!" Madame Pince yelled at him as he grabbed the letter and ran out of the library. In search of Draco. His heart led him right to the dungeon where Draco lay. Harry saw the fallen boy and the realisation hit him like a five ton cauldron. "No! Oh Gods No! Draco!" He knelt besides the deceased boy. "Draco! Please! Wake up! Draco, it is me! Harry! We've been writing to each other for a year and we never knew it! Can you believe it? Draco! Wake up silly! It is only half eight! You shouldn't be sleeping! Oh Draco!" Harry began to cry. "Draco why did you do it? Why couldn't you have given me a chance? I've loved you for so long and now you leave me! Just when I… Just when I realized that I needed you! Draco! Please!" He had Draco in his arms and he was holding him tightly. "Draco! Please!" His voice was barely a whisper now. "Don't leave me!" He held the boy in his arms and he sobbed ever harder. There was a sound and a voice behind him, a hand reached for him, taking Draco out of his arms. "NO!!!" Harry screamed, his vision fogged by tears. " It is only me Potter." "Professor Snape?" "Yes, Don't cry anymore Potter. He's gone, There is nothing you can do. I will take him to Dumbledore, please, try to get some sleep and Dumbledore will see you in the morning." "NO! Don't take him from me!!!! PLEASE!!!" Snape stopped and turned to Harry. "You MUST understand Harry. Please, There is NOTHING you can do. Mister Malfoy is dead." Harry began to sob and scream uncontrollably. "No! Give him back to me! I was the ONLY one who understood him! I am the only one who LOVES him!!!" Sadness etched Snape's face. "You forget, Mister Potter, that he was my godson…" And Harry saw the tears welled up inside Snape's eyes as he walked away, Draco's body in his arms.

Harry felt numb. Empty. He made his way up to Gryffindor tower, past the stunned and confused facades of his friends, up to his bed. He couldn't sleep. He only thought of Draco.

Days passed. He neither ate nor slept. He saw no one. He talked to no one. The announcement had been made of Draco's death and mostly, no one cared. Harry didn't hear the announcement. He didn't hear anything but Draco's voice. He was so distraught that he had caused himself to be physically and mentally ill.

Harry woke from a very vivid series of nightmares, to find himself in the hospital wing. Dumbledore looking at him anxiously. "What…." harry tried to ask what had happened, but he was too weak to talk.

"You are very ill Harry. Mister Weasley found you passed out a week ago and we brought you here immediately. You've been here for seven days. I am right to assume that this has something to do with Draco Malfoy?" Harry's eyes leaked tears at the mention of Draco's name. "I thought so. Harry, I am truly more sorry than I can say. However, I also received an owl from Mister Malfoy that night, as you did. Mine simply instructed me to give you this…" And from his robes, Dumbledore produced a necklace of silver with an emerald and silver Celtic knot pendant. On the back was the inscription, I never hoped that you would love me, but here is something to remember me by. I love you Harry.

Harry began to cry again and Dumbledore left him. Thoughts intruded on the solitude of the room in which Harry was lying. He had made up his mind. He forced himself to stand and he began to walk. He forced himself to feel better and in a few days, Madame Pomfrey deemed him a hundred percent recovered. And he seemed to be.

Harry went to the great hall, talked to all of his friends, he had really missed them whilst in hospital. He ate a huge dinner and made up a little of his homework with Hermione's help. That night while everyone was sleeping, Harry took his letters from Malfoy and put them into a box. He then sat at his desk and wrote a letter. He put it into the box and sent the package off with Hedwig. He through on his Invisibility Cloak and made his way out into the hallway.

Hermione was sitting at her dressing table, brushing her hair when Hedwig flew in and dropped a box on her bed, a box full of letters. She recognized the handwriting as that of Harry's, but the other she didn't know. She read the letters by the two pen friends, starting with the first. She read Draco's final letter and understood everything. She went to put the box in her trunk when a note fluttered down, in Harry's writing.

Hermione, I hope that you understand what I am about to tell you…I loved him and I don't know why but I feel empty. He killed himself because of me. I must fix this. If I can. Don't worry about me. I know what I am doing. You will find me, no doubt, in the dungeon where he was found. I will need some assistance later to get out of the room I am sure, feel free to tell Dumbledore. I love you Hermione, you are my dearest friend. Harry James Potter.

Hermione put the letter down and ran to the dungeon. "Oh Harry!" She exclaimed and ran to lift up her friend. She couldn't cry. He had written another note…in his own blood. A lyric from a song he had been listening to for days…"Madness flows and the rocks below say throw your white body down, but I am going to meet the one I love so please, don't stand in my way…"

He was dead.