A/N: This is Draco's POV. I'm sorry about this being so damn short, but I wrote this a while ago and I couldn't figure out how to make it better. I just felt like posting it and seeing if others like it the way it is. Thanks to my beta Katie and to you for reading this. Please review, thanks in advance!
Disclaimer: If I were JKR, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfiction. I'd be writing book six! And the quote by Mr. Scrooge is owned by the author of A Christmas Carol. For some reason, I can't think of his name.
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"Sometimes words are like wings, making you fly; sometimes they're like knives stabbing you, making you die." Those words were what I thought when you broke up with me.
*Flashback*
"I just don't think that we're meant to be together. Things are always tearing us apart...like Voldemort and you're father."
"But I don't care. We're supposed to be together. It's perfect. I love you...can't you see that?," I asked, desperate that he'd change his mind.
"I love you, too...but it's just not going to work, you and me. Besides...if we stay together, Voldemort might, no will, try to kill you and...I can't bear to have another person I love killed by that asshole."
"It's all right. I don't care if I get hurt. All that matters is that we love each other."
"We...we can't, okay?! There's just too much at risk." I looked at him...there was no way out of this. He was going to break up with me and there's nothing I could do about it.
"I love you..."
"I love you, too...but I have to go." And with that, he left and didn't look back.
*End Flashback*
I think a little part of me died right there...the part that was capable of loving. A year has passed and I still feel the same, maybe worse. When I heard people whisper "I love you", I used to be happy. I knew that I had you to whisper that to me. Now...I know that that can never happen again. Why you ask? Because he died...Harry, my love, died. He and Voldemort died during their last battle. When he died...another chunk of my heart went with him. And I've realized that...that I can never be happy again. How can I be happy? You were my life, my joy, my love. I hate this...I hate you for leaving me. I can't take this...Why must life be so cruel? The only way to escape, to be with you, is to die. "But you can't die, there's too much to live for...too much you'll miss," you say. What is there left living for? Who would care if I didn't exist? Who?! That's right, no one would. Why bother taking up space and wasting food. As Mr. Scrooge once said, "Let them die and decrease the surplus population." I shall do just that by ending my life. Believe me, it'll be better this way. It has to be...