Betrayal's Last Kiss
The graveyard almost felt like it shouldn't have been there. It was, afterall a special cemetary given to everyone who had parished in the war. Both sides had suffered immense losses, and it was a hard memory to relive, which is why the graveyard remained mostly empty, except for the anniversary of the war's ending. Flowers couldn't grow here, and many of the pots of flowers had been long removed due to the wilting and non-care of them. As the young man, aged nineteen or so, passed the gravestones of his school mates, he couldn't help but land on the gravestone that had meant the most to him.
He kneeled next to it, and as a tear rolled down his right cheek, and landed with a splash on the gravestone marker, he whispered "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."
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The rain fell down almost in buckets, and for the two men standing in it, it was unappriciated and unneeded. Wands were pointed at each other, and hands were steady as eyes remarked the hate and love shared between the two.
A taller man seemed to have a look of regret upon his face, and he heard his voice crack as he muttered the words "I'm sorry I couldn't do what you wanted me to do. I'm sorry I couldn't be who you wanted me to be." As the final syllable left his mouth, a flash of brilliant green erupted from the tip of his wand, and then a flash, and he sunk to his knees in the damp earth. He heard a scream of death, and he had never felt so cold and empty in his whole entire life.
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The gravestones represented everyone he knew. He knew how each one of them died, and exactly how. Most of them had been killed by an unforgiveable being used too much, others had died simply because they weren't strong enough. He had died because he wanted him to be something other than what he was. He couldn't join the other side, if he did betrayal would follow him wherever he went. He couldn't do that to the people he had tried so hard to protect. He had tried to hard to protect HIM, but in the end, he was his downfall. It was he who had said the curse. He who had killed the only person he ever loved. It plagued his good memories.
Every single kiss tasted like betrayal to him in his memories.
He let another tear roll down his cheek and onto the gravestone, that finally removed the dust that lay on the carefully carved letters of his name. He couldn't do this. He couldn't say goodbye, even if those two words were the last goodbye. Everyday he came here, and he always said the same thing. "I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted to be." He would say it over and over, until it dawned on him.
He wasn't Draco Malfoy.
He didn't even think he was Harry James Potter. But he was.
He had killed the only man he ever loved. He had killed the only man who loved him in return.
All because he couldn't betray his friends trust. But he had betrayed his trust.
His hands wiped the gravestone free of it's debris and dust, and read the name and date outloud to himself.
"Draco Malfoy. June 5th, 1980 to October 26th, 1999"
He closed his eyes, and bent down to kiss the gravestone. He whispered. "I'm sorry I couldn't be who you wanted me to be." and another tear rolled down to join the others.
A/N: I'd like to thank my wonderful friend Dez, because without her i wouldn't have this wonderful peice of drabble, and I wouldn't love H/D. So thanks to her for helping me when i hit a snag, and as always, constructive critism is welcome, seeing as this is my first HP fic.
