Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The story title is taken from the title of a song by AFI

Warnings: Suicide, angst, man-lovin', a bit of language. Don't read if you don't want to be depressed.

PART ONE: HARRY'S POV

I lay here in the Prefect's bathroom. It is late so I'm practically guaranteed my privacy. Not that I much care about my privacy at the moment. My mind is wavering from consciousness to the sweet black abyss. The empty bottle of pills lies on the floor next to me. I can't even concentrate enough to try to remember what the pills are I just swallowed moments ago. I vaguely remember that they're something that'll knock me out before I die. I wouldn't want to be conscious during my final moments, especially from what I've heard about overdoses on prescription drugs.

I've been thinking about this for weeks now, planning it out just right. At first I thought I'd just slit my wrists, but from my previous experiences with cutting, I decided against it. I could hardly draw blood before, I very much doubt I'd be able to draw enough blood to kill me when the time came. Then I thought of some simple magic solution; a potion or spell or what have you. But then I realized that magic was the whole reason I was plotting my own death.

Magic killed my parents. Magic killed Cedric. Magic killed Sirius. Magic killed Dumbledore. Magic killed Seamus and Neville and Cho and Mr. Weasley and Ginny and Professor McGonagall and countless others. Magic made my life worthwhile right before tearing it down again and then repeating the cycle over and over. Magic both created and destroyed my life. Magic introduced me to everyone who ever cared for me, many who are now dead. Magic introduced me to Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy. He is a whole other problem. Of course, everyone was out to get him after Dumbledore's death, Order members because he helped cause the death of Dumbledore and got the Death Eaters inside Hogwarts, the Death Eaters because Draco failed the task of actually killing Dumbledore. It was his dirty and malnourished body winding its way on the Dursleys' doorstep that changed everything. He deflected to 'my' side, as it was now deemed, confessing everything while- willingly- under the effects of Veritaserum.

He confessed his work with Voldemort and his followers, reasoning that his upbringing taught him to do so and, even when he was wanting to switch sides, the need to protect his mother was what caused him to get the Dark Mark. He nearly broke down when he had to talk about her, the only person who ever truly loved him. He did break down, though, when I had the misfortune of informing him of his mother's murder, Voldemort's way of trying to lure Draco out of hiding.

The next few months were wretched for Draco, of course. No one but Snape, Remus, and I trusted him. After four months of trying over and over again to prove his allegiance to the side of the light, and a very grand saving of my life, people started to warm up to him. Two months later, the unthinkable happened. Draco and I got smashed, totally and completely, and wound up having quick, awkward, semi-clothed sex up against the wall outside a random club. We never spoke of it again, calling it simply The Night in my mind. I didn't even look him in the eye for another three months or so.

Even after that, we were no longer friends, which he had grown to be over the months. During training sessions and regular loneliness, me becoming the third wheel since Ron and Hermione shacked up and Draco no longer having any true friends, Draco and I had become close friends. But that one drunken night fucked it all up. Draco and I haven't had a decent conversation since. And then, one night, being the fool I am, I tried to kiss him again. He pulled away. Enough said.

So, now I'm laying here, every blink taking a little bit longer to end. I'm here for all the lives lost because of me, all the people who sacrificed themselves so I could go on to defeat Voldemort- which I had a little over a month ago; Draco and I still weren't talking at the time. Much like now. I'm here because the one person I've realized I love with every fiber of being won't ever love me. A night of hazy sex had proved it.

I lay here, imagining someone, hopefully Draco, bursting in through the door and saving me before it's all too late. Ron and Hermione will return to being my best friends. Remus won't hold complete and utter sorrow in his eyes, being able to move on from Sirius' death finally and maybe finding someone else to love, though his one true mate is gone. And Draco will love me. I sigh, knowing none of that will happen, but I'm about to die, why not have some lovely parting fantasies? I think I deserve to at least dream up a happy ending.

The haze in front of my eyes reminds me of the haze that was in front of my eyes on The Night. I blink slowly, silent tears dripping down my face, only now realizing that I'd probably been crying since I downed the pills. I replay the fantasy in my mind, fluttering between my eyes being opened and closed; I can't really tell when I'm blinking or not.

But in the fantasy, Draco comes into the bathroom all casual-like, holding his expensive toiletries he simply can't live without, taking in the surroundings after a few seconds. His eyes land on me after skimming over the empty pill bottle. The things in his arms clatter to the ground as he quietly mutters my name, stopping in his tracks for a moment or two before rushing to my side. He's now on his knees, looking at my face as I slump against the wall, my legs splayed out before me. I see the tears welling in his eyes, dripping over and falling down his face. I smile slightly, or at least attempt to, and the black closes in.

He grabs my hand, too much in shock to do much else than look at me with tears streaming down his face, dripping onto the floor, mixing with mine. I blink again, and this time my eyes stay closed. I faintly hear someone yelling a name and choke sobs, but my mind is too far gone to decipher whose voice it is and whose name they're calling. The last thought going through my head is that of Draco.