Harry had been hopeful when Draco had given him until morning to make him see the point in living again. But truth be told, he didn't have a clue how to change Draco's mind. He simply did not know enough about him, not anymore. And this cold, dark Christmas Eve, which normally felt hopeful, it somehow felt empty tonight.

So instead of trying to tell Draco how beautiful life was, how much love and hope there was in the world, he had kept quiet. Because his words would seem empty, they would seem like lies. He doubts he would have even believed them himself tonight.

"It's bloody freezing," Draco grumbles, trying to blow some warmth into his hands, but they have almost become numb by now, and Harry can tell that his mood is only getting worse the longer they keep walking.

So he leads him into one of his favourite coffeeshops, the cheery Christmas jingles still playing in the background, even though it's the middle of the night.

"What can I get you?" Harry asks, but Draco shrugs, his cheeks flushing red. Harry can't tell if it's from embarrassment or from the warmth. "I'm buying."

"I really don't care, Potter."

"Fine. Sit down." Harry rolls his eyes. He orders them both a hot chocolate, but because it's so late, there isn't much left to eat. So he ends up getting them both a Santa-shaped cookie, and he can already hear Draco's mocking comments in his head, even before he has reached their table.

"What the hell is that?" Draco asks, for a moment looking horrified, but then he starts laughing when Harry sets down his hot chocolate in front of him. The mug looks like it's about to spill over with marshmallows, and it looks like something a five-year old would have ordered.

"You think this is going to make me change my mind?" Draco laughs, shaking his head, before picking the mug up and warming his hands on it.

For a moment Harry just watches him, so surprised to see him laugh, to see a brightness in his eyes which he hasn't seen since they were kids. But then it's as though someone switches the light off again, because the smile leaves Draco's face, and within a split-second, he looks years older.

"May I ask?" Harry asks, but the other man just shrugs, still staring down at the hot chocolate in his hands. "Why were you out there tonight? I mean, I know what you were doing, but… why? Because of what happened to your parents?"

"What does it matter to you? Why do you care if I live or not?"

"Because you're…," Harry begins, but he doesn't quite know how to finish that sentence. 'My friend' isn't exactly fitting. "You don't deserve to die."

Draco scoffs, but then he sighs again, before picking out a marshmallow and putting it into his mouth.

"Surely you have something, or someone…"

"I don't," Draco cuts him off. "Is that really a surprise to you?"

"I don't want you to die," Harry blurts out, not even sure why he is telling Draco this. Is that supposed to stop him? When has Draco ever cared about what Harry wants?

"I know you feel like you have to do this, Potter. But don't bother. This world, it's…" Draco shakes his head, a faraway look in his eyes. "It's not worth it."

"Not worth what? Are you just going to give up when life gets tough?" Harry asks, the harsh words making the other man stare at him with open mouth. "People always said you were just a pathetic little boy, but…"

"Twist the knife, why don't you?"

"You think you're the only one who feels like this?" Harry asks. "Huh?"

"I…"

"Why the hell do you think I'm out here in the middle of the night, trying to find some kind of… something. I have to live with what we've been through, every single minute of the day, Draco. I am still there, every time I close my eyes," Harry admits. "You think I haven't thought about giving up?"

"At least you still have people who care about you."

"You would too, if you started letting people into your life," Harry says. "There is good out there. You just have to look for it."

"Have you found it yet?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Harry asks, but Draco just stares back into his mug, thinking about his words. "Don't do it. Please."

When Draco doesn't answer, Harry reaches out to put a hand on his. He half-expects Draco to get up and run off at his touch, but that's not what happens. Draco actually starts to sniffle, and it's obvious that tonight's emotions are starting to get to him. That he's thinking about what he had almost done, perhaps still wishes he would have done.

"I still hear the screaming," he whispers, his voice sounding small and fragile. "How am I supposed to believe there's good out there, after what we saw? After what we had to do?"

"I don't know," Harry admits, his hand still on Draco's. "But I do know that we can't let him win. He already took enough lives. Don't let him take yours too."