Title: On the edge
Author: Righthook
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Umm, I wouldn't say pairing exactly, but involves DM/HP
Type: Short standalone, approx. 1700 words
Description: Harry has decided to kill himself when someone disturbs him
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a twisted imagination...
Note: The story is based on the song Hold On by Green Day, which you should check out if you haven't heard it...

"What the hell are you doing, Potter?" A voice sneered behind Harry, who forced himself to push away his racing thoughts for a second, and crane his neck to the left where he spotted the dark form of a boy. Oh great, he thought sarcastically, that git's always interrupting something.

"I could ask you the same, Malfoy. Since when is the North Tower your territory?" He felt himself getting slightly annoyed, not only because it was Malfoy who had disturbed him, but also because he was just about to do it. He was once again interrupted in the midst of his thoughts, as grey disgusting smoke crept up his nostrils. He started coughing wildly, but then remembered where exactly he stood at the moment, and felt a syringe of fear run through him.

"Since this is the best place for not getting caught smoking," Malfoy smirked, holding up a white cylinder stick and taking a slow drag from it, the end glowing orange as he did.

Harry averted his eyes to the ground many, many metres down, and sighed inaudibly. He really was in no luck at all.

Malfoy released the smoke he had been holding and purposely blew it in the direction of Harry, who made a face at the mouthful of smoke once again attacking him.

"What exactly are you doing here, Potter? Trying to kill yourself?" Malfoy's voice sounded slightly cheerful, and that made something in Harry sad. Not that he should have expected Draco Malfoy to be saddened over the death of The Boy Who Lived, but Harry thought that he should - at least – feel something.

"What do you care?" Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth, still staring down at the dark ground beneath him. He could spot Hagrid's hut to the left of the Forbidden Forest, an even stream of smoke erupting from the chimney, the Whomping Willow to the right, in the process of killing a bird, and the great lake with the giant squid, sleepily floating in the calm, black water.

Hogwarts was home for Harry, the one and only home he'd ever really had. But soon, it'd be nothing more than a memory, forever glued to the insides of the ghost that'd be himself. He'd be forever grateful to the people that had helped him and cared for him during these seven years in the school; Dumbledore, Sirius, Ron & Hermione… He forced away the memories of the friends by distracting himself by thinking about all the sad times. All lives that he had been guilty of ruining. It's time to do it, he decided quietly, it's time to die. He lifted his right leg slightly off the stone edge, feeling how it strange it felt with nothing underneath to support it.

"I don't. I just thought you were smarter than this… I clearly gave you way too much credit." Harry stopped in his actions. Malfoy's voice was different now. Gone was the slow, hissing sound, and - even though Harry couldn't see it – he knew that there was no smirk or grin adorning the pale, pointed face. He turned his head slightly to the side so that he could see the blond boy, now standing beside him but a few feet away, smash his cigarette into the stone wall.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked sharply, disturbed that he had been stopped from doing what he wanted, and once again, by Malfoy.

Malfoy turned directly to Harry and stopped and looked at him for a few moments. This – for some odd unknown reason – made Harry feel awkwardly self conscious. He felt uncomfortable, standing on the edge of the North Tower, with Draco Malfoy standing beside him, staring at him. Malfoy was not standing on the edge, therefore he was about 50 centimetres lower than Harry – and everybody knew that height was a form of status – but in that moment, Harry felt like he could have been about a centimetre tall and Malfoy a giant. Harry felt small under the gaze oozing from the grey eyes. Yes, Draco Malfoy's eyes were grey. Why hadn't Harry noticed that before?

Longer than a minute passed before Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, "I thought you were smarter than taking your own life. There are people out there who are depending on you, trusting you not to make the wrong decisions, caring about you, needing you. And this is how you do them justice? You're the most egoistical git I've ever met in my life. And ithat/i my father included." Malfoy's voice was heated and the usually white cheeks slightly blushed.

Harry's body jerked at the harshly spoken words, almost losing balance and falling off the edge, but he regained it in the last second and moved his eyes to Malfoy once again. That was close, he thought and knew that he should have been terrified since he had almost fallen down a 20 metre high tower, but somehow, Malfoy's outburst had scared him more.

Malfoy just stood there, looking meaner than ever, but still with some emotion showing on his face that Harry couldn't place. He hadn't moved a single muscle when Harry had almost fallen and Harry was utterly confused. "How dare you calling me that…" It was more of a statement than a question, but it was said quietly, because somehow – very deep down – he could somehow agree to what Malfoy had said. He was egoistical, he knew that. But what was he supposed to do then? Wait around so that he could lure someone else into death? He couldn't have that happening. Not again.

"I dare everything, Potter. Something that you clearly don't."

Harry felt himself getting angry again. "Yes I do!"

Malfoy snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "No you don't. If you would dare anything, Scarhead, then you'd hop down from the edge and face yourself and everyone else."

Harry looked away and shook his head. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy."

"Oh please! I know exactly everything you know. I know how much your disgusting little friends love you. Remember that time in second year when Granger had been Petrified, and when she was returned back to normal, the first person she hugged was you. She knew that you had been the one to save her. And then in third year, you saved that villain Sirius Black. And then you brought back Diggory's body from Voldemort's hiding place," Malfoy exclaimed annoyed. "So don't underestimate me."

"How…" Harry began, sort of in awe that Malfoy knew so much. "How do you know all that?"

Malfoy snorted again. "Do you really think I'm going to tell you? Because then you are really thicker than I thought… but I have obviously thought more of you than what you've deserved on other accounts, so I'm guessing that you are."

Harry sighed loudly. "You've finished your cigarette a long time ago, Malfoy, so why are you still here? Why don't you just go back to your little Pure Blood friends?" Harry wondered tiredly, now feeling how he more than ever wanted to kill himself. He had had enough of Malfoy's taunts over the years, and when he was finally going to put an end to them, Malfoy had found a way to keep doing it.

"Because you can't die," Malfoy stated simply.

Harry brought his right hand to his eyes and started rubbing his eyes, tiredly. "And why is that? I've already gotten two people killed. If I die now, I might save more innocent lives."

"You're so thick, Potter. Don't you realize that Black died from own carelessness? Can't you get it into your egoistical head that you couldn't have helped Diggory? Voldemort killed him with Avada Kedavra, and there is no stopping that," Malfoy spat and shouted the sentences in a blur that took Harry's brain a while to process. "Killing yourself will not make Black and Diggory any justice… but fighting will."

Harry felt dumb. Draco was right. So right. What had he been thinking anyway? He knew that there were people who cared about him, people who loved him, and who would be devastated if he dead. A light night breeze flew across the castle and ruffled Harry's already messy hair.

He looked at Draco, who stood quietly and wearing an expression of seriousness on his face. "Come on, get down from there. I'm freezing." There was something playful, almost nice, in his voice.

And he didn't know why, or how, or why again, but he followed Draco's command and carefully jumped down from the stone wall with a soft thump. "Umm, Draco?"

Draco, who was almost at the spiral staircase, which lead down the entire tower, turned to look at Harry. "Yes?"

"Was that really why you didn't want me dead or is there an additional reason?"

Draco seemed to think for a moment, for his lips curled, just slightly, to the left. "If you die, who shall I then make fun of? Sure there is Weasel and Mudblood, but that wouldn't really be any fun without you..." he drifted off, staring at the floor as if he didn't want to meet Harry's eyes.

"Oh," Harry mumbled.

"And… Harry?"

Harry looked up expectantly at the blond beauty in front of him. He didn't flinch at the thought. Draco Malfoy was beautiful, incredibly beautiful and he had just now noticed. That milky white skin and those sapphire eyes, the way he walked, his posture, his soft hair…

"Don't call me Draco again."

Harry snapped out of his reverie at the words that were spoken softly to him. "What? Why?"

Draco slowly shook his head and almost looked sad. "Because you just can't. We can't." he took a breath and continued, "Tomorrow we will be back to normal around each other, okay? It's best if you just forget this whole thing." And with that, Draco made his way down the spiral staircase, the black cloak swaying behind him as he went.

Harry followed the blond haired boy down the stairs with a sigh, all the while knowing that he would never forget, and that things would never be the same again with him and Draco Malfoy.