Disclaimer: I own nobody and nothing. What terrible times are these when I don't even have the energy to be sarcastic.

A/N: This may be the last chapter, but it's up to you. Do you want another chapter of my awful writing or would you rather I left it like this?

Chapter 5: The Scorch of Tender Kisses

Friday.25.December

Merry Christmas Draco…

Bdbdbdbdbd

25th December

This is the first Christmas at Hogwarts I've suffered a sleepless night. I thought I could live without Harry but it's too hard. I thought I was miserable before him but I've come to learn that I didn't know unhappiness until I experienced the bliss I had with him only to have it cruelly snatched away. I quit trying to stay away from him. I can't stand another Christmas alone. Hell! If I have to bear just one more day without him I'll go mad. Harry's the only one who can fill the gaping void inside me.

Bdbdbdbddb

Draco was woken from a fitful sleep by a feathery touch on his hand. The first thing he thought of was Harry's warm lips and, although it wasn't, he was only slightly disappointed when he opened his eyes.

It was rose petals, hundreds of them, falling from some unseen place by the ceiling. The same misty blue shone from them until they landed on the floor or bed, where they seemed to dissolve and dance back up to the ceiling like dust. Only the few petals that landed on Draco lasted more than a minute, and they seemed to melt into him rather than dissolve. It tickled when they landed, like the soft kisses Harry would plant on his neck and shoulders were he there, but something about when they sunk into his flesh made him uneasy. They hurt. Not a lot-Draco barely noticed it-but it almost felt like they were burning him.

Gently. Carefully.

Then they disappeared and it was dark again, but Draco wasn't scared for very long. Harry slipped silently into Draco's bed. He lovingly kissed Draco's collarbone and started to make his way up his neck, his touch frantic and needy.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I'm so sorry." His breath was warm on Draco's cheek. Draco closed his eyes and drew Harry closer to him.

"It's okay. I love you."

Harry kissed Draco's mouth, feeling his body arch beneath him, as if sealing Draco's words. Just as he'd sealed his fate.

Bdbdbdbd

…sweet dreams, my love.

Bdbdbddb

He sits in the chair in the far corner with a can of beer in His hand. He doesn't normally drink, which makes His violent rages scarier. It means that He's like that without anything working at His brain, trying to make Him tick. The note is on His lap. He looks down and reads it again:

'A long time ago I told you that I was scared of what was lying in wait for me in the dark. I finally decided that I'd rather go to bed scared that I'll be murdered in my sleep than go to bed scared that I'll still be alive to greet you in the morning.'

The owl it was delivered by lies in the other corner, the one I used to cower in as He walked towards me, always so slowly. He's angry. He needed something to take it out on and I'm not there, where I should be. The owls' head seems to be too far from its body. The bones in its neck protrude through the matted feathers and its blood trickles down to mix with the faded stains of my own. Its glassy eyes stare up at me, accusing. I should go back, make it right. Accusing. Accusing.

bdbdbdbdbd

I shake the image out of my mind and look out of the window from the camp bed on the floor of the men's' shelter, miles from His house. I shouldn't have sent the note. He'll use it to find me. I sigh, irritated. He can't find me. I left no clues. He can't find me.

I glance out of the window again, hoping to see the tawny owl gliding across the night sky. When I don't, I start to wonder how far from the truth I am.

I look down at my hand and the scar is glowing. I reach under the camp bed and find my glove.

As I pull it on I realise that I'm free. I like the sound of that. I'm free. Free from pain, and fear, and-best of all-Him. I'm free from him.

Fin. Or maybe not. You decide.