Title: Return to Me Part-7
Rating: pg-13
Genre: Romance, angst
Summary: The night when Harry Potter leaves his husband behind as he goes to war.
Spoilers: 1-5
Warning: slash, m-preg
Disclaimer: blah blah blah wish I owned Draco but don't.
Chapter-7
Owing you
The clouds moved and the night air swayed. The rocks stood still, however as waters
washed repeated over them. The moon shown bright, unfittingly beautiful for such a
fateful day, yet it was a lament worthy of a passing hero. The wind continued to stir
trying viciously yet oddly gently to sway the lone figure that stood on top of a cliff with a
letter held to his chest and tears shinning in his eyes. The forces of nature pushed even
more trying cautiously to coax a movement out of the still figure to no avail.
There were nothing but rocks beneath him and the night sky above. There was no snow
beneath his feet, for it was afraid to fall. It was afraid to bring the sense of forgiveness
and new beginnings to the surfaces of the world after a day that marked lives. It was not a
time of beauty. It was a time of breakdown. Tears fell and mixed with the waters beneath,
swept away in the whirl. Watching quietly as cool air stung his eyes and chilling
temperatures numbed his fingers, Draco Malfoy looked down at the letter that shook in
his hand. It was Harry's last letter addressed to him. Meant to be mailed only if
something was to happen to his lover. It was his last message yet it stood dully in front of
his eyes giving him no comfort in the passing of his husband. It gave him no relief or will
to go on. It gave him no sense of willingness to live any longer for life had passed once
Harry had closed his eyes. And here Draco stood, the second half of an incomplete soul
waiting for all essence of being to leave him. He was alone and still prone to the temper
and anger that coursed through his veins ready to burst out and wrench something
powerful and kill it.
He gasped as his breath fell short suddenly and desperately clutched his hair.
"I hate you," he whispered. "I hate you with every fiber of my being for leaving. I hate
you for saving me and I hate you for accepting my friendship. I hate you for asking me
for a dance and I hate you for falling in love with me. I HATE YOU." He yelled into the
waters below his voice echoing into the night. "I HATE YOU HARRY FOR LEAVING
ME FOR WANTING A FAMILY AND THEN ABANDONING IT. FOR SAYING
THAT YOU LOVE ME AND FOR MARRYING ME." He clutched desperately at his
clothes fumbling for some warmth as sobs wracked his body. His nimble fingers came in
contact with a cool surface and gray eyes shuddered and came in contact with the pale
hands in front of them. White surfaces marked his skin except for one exception. Sliding
it off slowly with a little difficulty in the cold, Draco held his silver ring with engravings
on the insides in his hands.
"With this ring I thee wed." Draco whispered as he read the message in the feeble light.
He shook slowly with grief and hatred. Taking a final breath he jerked the ring far away
into the deep waters that swallowed his engagement ring whole within seconds.
Watching helplessly Draco stood tall, his hair sweeping dangerously in the wind his
hands outstretched and numb. He was ready to fly. Ready to fall. He was ready for the
final push that would give him away to the freezing waters and razor sharp rocks below.
One hand, which held the letter from Harry, rested on his stomach aware of the child that
grew within. Aware of what he was about to do. The second hand stayed outstretched.
His eyes closed and his breath rapid, Draco Malfoy leaned forward. This was a moment
to be uninterrupted and watched with horror, yet the gods were against Draco Malfoy like
always. Or maybe they had always been against him but this time they were with.
Two hands rested on tense shoulders, applying a soft pressure that was reassuring yet
insistent. Draco opened his eyes to turn around and met the pale blue ones of Ronald
Weasley.
The freckled face, the lanky height, and the flaming red hair, still descried the form of
Harry Potter's Best friend. Yet it was different now. The person was different. For the
past three years Ronald Weasley had come a long way from the kid who walked around
red in the face complaining about annoying Ferret-faced-Slytherins.
The twenty-year-old Ron Weasley was now the head of the Department of Aurors, his
role strong and important in the war that came to an end last night. His face was dark, his
eyes alight with pain. He stood stubbornly in front of him aware of the cliff that was a
few feet away ready to swallow the human being willing to give away his life.
"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" his voice was low and dangerous. Tears were
pooling in his eyes and Draco stared, his knees weak and his heart hammering.
"Answer me." His firm grip on Draco's arms shook him roughly.
"I don't know." Draco whispered. "I don't know anything anymore."
The dark look stood on Ron's features, his grip increased in pressure and a delicate tear
fell from his eyes.
"You idiot," he said, "How dare you?" His teeth were clenched his pale face contorted in
anger. "How dare you? What are you thinking?"
"What I do is none of your concern." Draco said breathlessly.
Ron shook him again.
"It is. It very fucking well is. You are my best friends lover."
"I WAS!!! HE"S GONE NOW." Draco was shaking with the pain the burned him from
the inside.
Ron stared at him, his grip loosening.
"Don't you think I know that?" he asked. His voice was soft and full of pain. Draco now
wished he would go back to being angry. "I was there you know. I was there the day they
took Harry away to Voldemort. I was there when he came back nearly dead. And you're
telling me he's gone?"
Draco's breath hitched.
"What's the point?" He asked. He felt so helpless. So broken. "I have nothing to live
for."
"Nothing to live for huh? Oh god Draco what about your child huh? The child that Harry
gave you. The reason that Harry left you with to live for. Forgot about that?" He said, his
voice low and inquiring.
Draco's head was swimming.
"God why do you care whether I live or not?" He asked his hands clenched.
"Because. Because don't you see? You're what makes him Harry."
Draco looked up at him.
"What are you talking about Weasley?" he asked harshly.
"It's always been like that. You know that's true. The first time I met Harry all I saw was
the scar. Same thing with Hermione and Dean and Seamus and Ginny and mom and dad
and god every bloody person in the world. But you. You were different. When you first
met him you didn't even see his scar. You just talked to him. Like he was normal. Like
he was nothing special. I stuck by his side all through school just fucking because he was
the Boy-who-lived. I know now. I realized my fucking intentions. Now, years after we
first became friends. But you...He told me about how you two were friends you know? It was during our fifth year. He told me about how he could talk to you about stuff. I was
pissed then but I understood. He needed you even then. Because you brought out
something else in him. You gave him a different meaning. When we looked at him we
saw the Boy-who-lived. When we looked at you two we saw him as human being, could
fall in love, who could make mistakes, who snored, who was lazy. But...but if you die, if
you die, Harry will be immortalized as something...as a hero who saved the World and
died doing so. You know he never wanted that. You know he wanted to be remembered
as Uncle Harry or Daddy or anything. Anything but just Harry Potter. You're the only
one who can do that, Draco. Don't you think that someone needs to live on with a more
personal meaning to Harry's life and pass it on? Don't you think you owe Harry that
much?"
Draco stared at him, shocked. He felt numb. He felt cold. And yet he realized that yes he
really did owe Harry a lot in life. Especially that.
"Don't you think so?" Draco looked up into pale blue eyes that spoke so much more.
"I can't do this alone." he said his face stinging in the cold as tears left tracks down his cheeks.
"I know." His expression was soft, his voice soothing. "But I'm here for you and so's Herm. You
know that. We'll help you through this."
Silent tears continued to fall. Yet Draco kept silent until softly Ron pulled him into a
gentle hug offering all the comfort he could hoping to find some himself.
Lives definately had been changed today. Fate worked in odd shades. Usually begetting luck to
those undeserving and giving grief that fought for good all their lives. Fate work in odd
shades, today it stole
from the world a soul that deserved happiness at every turn that life was to throw at him. And
yet now he was gone. Fate does work in odd shades indeed.
TBC...
No Ron is not making a pass at Draco. Don't worry.