I'd like to MASSIVELY thank Kingsnake from The Final Prophecy forums for Betaing this fic for me. She did an awesome job and we should all love her. :P

To think that the last thing he would ever see would be the Whomping Willow. A year ago, he would have thought the last thing he would ever see was the ceiling of his home as he died peacefully of old age. But not this year; not today. Today, he stood waiting for the branches to crush him or beat him to death. He thought he heard somebody calling his name, but it didn't matter; not anymore; not as the branch slowly came down on top of him. He would die now.

Thank you sweet life, but my heart; I can't follow my heart anymore, and I'd rather die than not follow my heart.

"Harry!". Arms pulled him away; away from death. He struggled to free himself from the arms before he realized that they wouldn't release him, and he just gave up.

"Do you have a fucking death wish? Why were you just standing there?". Ron exclaimed.

"Yes, Ron, I have a death wish. A few actually. See, I love him.." Harry replied cryptically.

"Him?".

"Yeah, him. But I can't tell him, see. If I did, he'd probably be disgusted, you and Hermione would hate me, and then I wouldn't have much of a reason to live anyway. Funny, isn't it? The Boy Who Lived is the one who wants to die. I wish Voldemort would have killed me then. It would have been so much easier to die." Harry sighed.

"Harry, don't say that." A girl's voice whispered from behind them.

"Oh, you're here too Hermione." Harry didn't bother to turn around.

"So am I." Harry couldn't see the person, but he recognized the voice. The voice he so longed to have whisper to him; the one he wanted to hear kind words from the most; the one he knew would never do any of those things.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron growled, turning to face the blonde.

"I want to talk to Potter."

"Then talk to him," Ron answered, defiant.

"Alone," Malfoy said, glaring softly at the Gryffindor.

"No way in hell am I letting you talk to Harry without-."

"Go Ron. I want to talk to Malfoy as well," Harry muttered to his friend. "Alone," he added.

Disgruntled and grumbling, Ron took Hermione's hand and led her away from the tree. When they were both out of sight, Harry felt a hand come down across his cheek. Hard.

"What the hell were you doing Harry?" Malfoy shouted.

"Dying." Came the simple response.

Harry was suddenly assaulted with arms around his neck and a face pressed into his chest. "Why Harry? Why die?"

"Because Draco, I'd rather die than not be able to follow my heart; than be tortured with your presence every day without being able to tell you that-".

"That what, Harry?" Malfoy was looking directly into his eyes now.

"That I love you." Harry averted his gaze. He couldn't see Malfoy's face when he told him. It would only hurt.

"Harry." Malfoy's hand turned Harry's head and a pair of lips descended upon his own. Malfoy was kissing him. "I love you too; have for a while."

"Draco!" Harry threw his arms around the other boy before burying his head into his shoulder and crying. Malfoy's hands ran softly through his hair. Malfoy's voice whispered gently into his ear that everything was all right. Malfoy's arms were around him. This is what he had dreamed of for so long.

This was home.

"I love you, Harry Potter."