I really think I should just put up one story composed fully of one-shots instead of posting them up one-by-one.

Something like:

Title: (suggestions, anyone?)

Summary: A series of tragic one-shots where Harry and Draco get killed over and over again.

This is for Eveleigh and EE. (If EE and I were still fighting, I would have said something scathing here.) :)

Will Break. Breaking. Broken.

"After you've quite torn it apart, I'll thank you to give back my heart"

- Celestina Warbeck, HBP

The dungeon room was eerily silent except for the steady drip-drip ­of water in the distance and the faint roar of the brewing storm.

It was dark too, as could be expected of deep-underground caverns everywhere, especially in old castles. It would have been pitch black if not for the gloomy light of a couple of torches along the far wall.

And I suppose it should be cold also, since dungeons are wont to be that way. But, odd though it may be, the room was actually warm. Hot, even.

It had been spelled by an unknown someone who-knows-how-many-centuries-ago to reflect the moods of its occupants.

And, right this moment, it was flush with emotions running high.

Anger. How true it is that anger burns. Along with a rash of other heartbroken emotions.

"Do you really think I'm just going to accept that?" The dark haired boy snorted derisively. It was clear in his emerald eyes that he was definitely not all 'fine and dandy' with whatever it was.

"Well," His blond companion drawled smoothly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "It is for the best, Potter. I thought you Gryffindors love sacrificing yourselves for the 'greater good' or something as dopey as that."

"So it's Potter now, is it?" Harry sneered, tossing his head back mockingly. "Don't give me that 'it's-for-the-best' crap, you know as well as I do that it doesn't matter."

"Maybe not now," Gray eyes flashed dangerously, a sign that would usually send people running. "Tell me, does Weasley know? Does Granger?"

"That's not th– "

"That's precisely the point! People aren't very keen on finding out that their Golden Boy is sleeping around with a Slytherin," There was only the merest trace of bitterness in his tone. "Longbottom only knows because he walked in on us!"

They both grimaced at the memory. Room of Requirement. Free period after Potions. Ugh.

"He couldn't even look at either of us in the eye since then! If someone less of an idiot than h–"

"Neville is not an idiot!" Harry bellowed furiously. He was standing up now. "I don't think anyone would honestly care if I was, as you say, sleeping around with you. And what do we care if they did?"

"Harry, don't be such a naïveté." Harry crossed his arms defiantly.

"Of course we care; we wouldn't be human if we don't." Draco's voice took on a softer but still heated tone. "You will care what Weasley and Granger and those others will think. They are, loathe as I am to say it, your friends. And I will have to start worrying about what Lucius would say."

"And let's not forget old Tommy boy's say in all this." Harry laughed bitterly. "He'll be disappointed not to get the father-son set."

There was an odd look on Draco's face now.

"But…" Harry started to say again. "What if –"

"Damn, Harry, you're not making this any easier," Draco ran his hand through his flaxen locks. "Look, making this decision, for both of us, was no 'walk in the park', so to speak. We could talk about this all night, Potter, but the inevitable thing is: it's over."

"It's not over 'til I say so," Harry, after a lengthy pause, muttered in barely suppressed rage.

"Or so you want to think," Draco, in a painful recollection of his snobbish ways, drawled coldly. "Go get yourself someone else if you want some loving, Potter. Just make sure he, or better yet she, is better than me. Someone who really, you know, deserves you."

(AN: This could be one ending. Butr if you want more action, read on.)

With that said and established, the blond turned to leave the room.

When…

"You almost had me fooled, Draco. Almost," Harry said scathingly, drawing himself to full height and walked levelly to Draco (whose brow was furrowed in confusion). "This wouldn't be the real reason you're breaking up with me now, wouldn't it?" Such venom in small words.

In the sparse light, the telltale Dark Mark glistened wickedly on the blond's left arm.

"He did get the set after all." The Gryffindor said flatly.

Draco quickly yanked his arm away from Harry's burning (?) fingers. He looked up to see the unreadable expression on Harry's face.

In a voice as livid and frustrated as he felt, "I didn't plan any of this! I didn't have a choice! You can't understand how it's like to be born and trapped in the Dark's embrace! You –"

"Oh yes I do, I'm even in a bloody prophecy about it," Harry spat spitefully. "But no, of course I have no idea of what insanity drives purebloods ('especially someone like you') would slave away for a filthy halfblood. I wouldn't understand what it's like to be a Death Eater."

Draco opened his mouth to retort when Harry hastily held up his hand.

"Malfoy, if you have to speak some more, do it somewhere else. Right now, I'll thank you to just give back my heart...or what's left of it anyway."

Scat, Draco. It hurts me to see how horrid you'd become.

Angry tears polled in silver eyes against their will. Draco Malfoy looked at Harry Potter in love one last time. And left forever, leaving anguished memories in his wake.

That's one more thing to hate Voldemort for, Harry , head bowed, clenched his fists.

I can mourn Draco's memory when it's all over.

Tiny icicles had begun forming on the ceiling. Harry's breath came out in little tuffs of frost.

Hate, after all, was cold.

2nd Ending.