Authoress Ramble: Dear readers... This is for two challanges, but I cannot remember where either of them are from. The first one is to use the line

'Because I, unlike you, am a prefect, so I, unlike you, can hand out punishments' as said by Draco (OotP, Luna Lovegood)

and the second one to use the line

'I'm all you have now, am I not? Just me...' which I changed to 'The memory of you is all I have now, isn't it? Just you...'

Warnings: This is R-rated slash people! Lest you like angsty males writing letters to their dead male lovers, sod off.


All I have left

Harry unrolled the parchment and dipped the quill in his inkbottle. Then he froze. He had no idea of what he'd write. He dipped the quill again, searching within him for the words that every night soared through his mind. It had been a year since that fatal night when his lover died. Outside his room he could hear the Weasley twins instructing a first year Hufflepuff on how to use their fireworks. He sighed, dipped the quill once again and begun, without knowing what he was about to write.

Dear Draco,

Outside my room I hear Fred and George instruct an unknowing Hufflepuff how to set off their fireworks. I think I heard the words 'Never ever around Professor McGonagall!' just a minute ago, but I'm not sure. Like a Hufflepuff, and a first year to that, would set off fireworks within three miles of Minerva!

I ... I miss you, Draco. Nothing's even half as much fun now. Every time I close my eyes I can see, from a point somewhere above, what happened that night. I think I should tell you. Maybe you all ready know, but here goes.

Do you remember how we broke in to the vault in the Malfoy Manor? You, me, Hermione, Ron, Luna and Ginny. And Neville. I'll never forget Neville, trust me. You knew what we'd find and I suppose I did too. I remember your hand briefly touching mine before you straightened and held your wand up high.

'Father,' you said and I've never been so astonished by the coldness of your voice. 'I see you are home.'

'Father?' wheezed Voldemort from the chair.

Oh, maybe I should remind you of the place. Damp, dark, as large as the first floor of 4 Privet Drive. Well, you never saw the place, did you? There was a chair on a small pedestal, Voldemort with Nagini near his feet, Pettigrew behind him ... and your father. Draco, I'm sorry. Your father to the right of him. Then the room got crowded. From everywhere came Death Eaters and Order members. I remember feeling Dumbledore's hand on my arm and then the claws of Fawks on the other.

'Professor Dumbledore,' hissed Voldemort.

'Tom,' Dumbledore nodded. 'I assume this is it, then?'

'Yes, Professor,' nodded Voldemort.

You touched my wand lightly with yours, do you remember that, Draco? The jolt of power made me shiver. I don't know what was said. There just suddenly were curses in the air, repealing spells cast and laughter. I'll never forget the laughter, Draco. Then I remember yelling after Neville as he ran forward, the spell he was about to cast catching in his throat, yet too late as it hit Bellatrix Lestrange, making her fall limp to the ground. I couldn't reach him, Draco, I'm sorry, I couldn't reach him. I saw Arthur run that way and stopped to shield Hermione from a curse.

Then I met Voldemort eyes and I can't recall what happened to all of you. Except you, Draco, I'll always know what happened to you. I'll never forget. I moved, left our stands and moved in front of him.

'Do you think you can kill me, Potter?' he hissed in Parseltoungue.

'Yes,' I answered and gripped my wand.

He was about to cast the Death Curse, I know he was. And I knew I couldn't have shielded myself from that. For a moment I thought all movement stopped, that the only thing to be heard were the wings of Hedwig as she came soaring down, dropping the sword of Gryffindor in front of me. I dived for it. I let go of my wand and dived for it. Voldemort laughed.

'Little boy, think you can do better with a sword then with magic?'

The sword was cold, so heavy I had to hold it with both hands. I turned back to him, pointing it at him.

'It is not the wand that makes a witch or a wizard,' I recall saying. 'It is the magic within you.'

And for some yet unknown reason I let go of something I had never realized I had held back. I remember the energy buzzing in the sword, then signing, the screaming, then shooting, heading for Voldemort at the same time that I surged against him. The power hit his wand, made him stumble. I couldn't believe it, really. It was like watching from above, from the right corner above the door. From there I could see everything.

I saw how you had lined up with Fred and George and Ron and I was so proud of you. I saw Ron fall into a heap, I saw Molly loosing her head and how Moody had to swing her around, slap her cheek and push her back into her position. I saw you check Ron's pulse, nod to the twins and how the three of you left your stands. I saw the curse that, glowing brightly green, headed for my back as I held the sword, feeling it sing with power.

I saw you throw yourself against it, capturing it with your own body and falling to the ground, as limp and as dead as Ron. I can still see you there, on the dusty floor with your blond hair over your face, covering your still staring eyes. How your hand clutched to your chest and I just knew you were holding my pendent.

Then it all came back to me and it was too late. Voldemort had fought my raw power and managed to cast a Death Curse. It hit me anyhow, Draco. I remember the feeling clearly. It's just a brilliant green light and then stunning silence. I remember someone screaming and I remember urging the last of my powers into the sword and pushing it into Voldemort. Something sort of 'clicked' when I did that. I can't explain it. It sort of... fell in place. The last I recall was Fawks sitting on Voldemort's body, Hedwig landing on my chest and someone speaking.

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have powers the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...

And it made sense. For the first time, I understood what that meant. Nor Voldemort or I could fully live when the other was still alive. Voldemort could not get a body ... and I, I could not really ... feel.

When the voice died away I saw the ghosts of you, Ron, Dumbledore and Neville. You touched my cheek and kissed me, do you remember? And you didn't feel as cold as Nearly Headless Nick. Ron just smiled and waved his arm, like he appreciated what had happened. Neville seemed to sob, yet not. I cannot thank Neville enough. He was much more important to me then I'll ever be able to explain. Dumbledore smiled too. He was patting Neville's arm, gesturing for you all to follow him. You did. Then there was brilliant light and you were gone... Merlin, love. I miss you. I miss you so badly and it always hurts when I go to sleep. I slept so much the first month, just because it was easier and you were always closer in my dreams. There, you'd play Quidditch with me, taunt Ron and hex Dobby. I could even have you back to hex Dobby, Draco. I miss you. I love you. I never got to say that to you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so much.

The brilliant light that you disappeared into filled my lungs with air. I gasped. Arthur nearly dropped me, he'd been carrying me out of there. I knew I had to go back so I tore myself away from him, running down the stairs again. Back in there, back into the vault - back to you. They had laid you next to Ron, Dumbledore, Neville and all the others that died. Ginny was holding Hermione who was rocking back and forth, staring at Ron. In the middle lay a pile of ashes and I instantly knew them to be those of Voldemort. Then there was a dead rat, Pettigrew. Bellatrix, McNair, Nott, Snape, Percy ... and Lucius. I'm so sorry, Draco. I'm so sorry you had to be killed by your own father.

Ginny screamed when she saw me, but I didn't care, I was pushing through the minor crowd, heading for you. I kneeled next to you and closed your eyes. You were so cold, Draco, did you have to be so bloody cold? I kissed your lips, you know. It wasn't the same. You tasted salt and bittersweet death and it wasn't you, it couldn't be, because you were full of life. Did you know that, Draco? You were full of life! You were warm, even though your hands were always so bloody cold. You used to taste like those mint pastilles that you insisted to eat all the time. Your lips used to be soft against mine, they used to be demanding more, whispering hoarsely in my ear that I was a bloody cocktease and if I didn't touch you immediately you'd put me in detention because you, unlike me, had been made a prefect, which meant that you, unlike me, could hand out punishments. Even when you'd whine about Hogwarts being a 'draft old unreliable stupid place to put a school in', you were full of life. Heck, I'd say you were full of life when you had your Malfoy drawl and smirk.

It's quite cold now, living without you. My bed isn't full of a Malfoy begging to be fucked anymore. It's not full of anyone begging to be fucked anymore. The memory of you is all I've got now, isn't it? Just you. I still cry myself to sleep sometimes. But it's quite all right now, Draco. I have this apartment with Anthony Goldstein, you remember the Ravenclaw prefect from our year? Of course you do. You snogged him silly when I told you I thought he was hot. Well, Draco ... Things change. Anthony isn't hot in my eyes anymore. Nobody is, because all I can dream of is you. Tony and I share this flat, it's just above the Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley. Sometimes, Fred and George sleep here.

I don't work, more then occasionally in the WWW, as it's called these days. I rarely go out. Once a week I visit your grave. I can't move on yet, Draco. It's been a year and I still miss you like it'd have been yesterday. I still expect you to be there when I wake up and I still say good night to you before remembering that you're not there.

It's been a year, and all I have is the memory of you.

Love,

Harry.