Fox: Sorry it took such a long time to update everyone. Mostly you can blame though because I couldn't upload this chapter for a week. The site kept saying 'an error has occurred' and stuffs. Anyways, here is your angst/romantic goodness. R &R.

Chapter #2

It had been several days since the incident with Malfoy. Harry had rushed the blond slytherin to the hospital wing only to be shoed away by Madam Pomfry. In the following days, he hadn't seen Malfoy at all. He didn't show up for classes or for meals and even his cronies had been unusually reserved.

Harry stood outside the hospital wing, wishing he could kick himself for giving in to his ever-present hero complex. He had no business worrying about Malfoy, even if the blond prat had just admitted his undying love for him only a few days prior.

"Mr. Potter. What an unexpected surprise," drawled the voice of one Lucius Malfoy. What was he doing here? Surely Malfoy wasn't so sick that Dumbledore called his father…

"Well, are you going to stand there all day?" Harry shook himself and walked briskly past the older Malfoy and into the hospital wing.

Every bed in the wing was completely devoid of patients except for one lone bed tucked away in the corner. A surprisingly large amount of visitors sat around the bed, the entourage consisting of Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Narrissia Malfoy, and Madame Pomfry. The last of this group was dabbing insistently with a wet cloth at the forehead of her patient.

It wasn't until then that Harry could get a good look at Draco Malfoy but what he saw frightened him. The tough, arrogant, and snarky prat that he was so used to fighting with seemed almost a shell. His skin was even paler than usual, almost to a point of being transparent, and was covered in of sheen of sweat. His eyes were dilated and darkened to a point of opaqueness and his breath came in rasps.

"Harry," he whispered hoarsely. Harry started and moved to Malfoy's side where Dumbledore was beckoning to. Had Malfoy even turned his head to see him?

"Harry," began Dumbledore, his voice uncharacteristically tired. "Harry, my boy, I'm sure you're wondering what happened to Mr. Malfoy a few days ago in the hallway and why his is in such a state now…" Harry nodded slowly, keeping one eye on the sick slytherin, who continued to struggle with his breathing.

"Well, I'm sure you have learned all about veela in your lessons and their mating process. It seems that Mr. Malfoy has been hiding some rather substantial veela blood. Do you know what happens to a veela when they are rejected by their mates, Harry?"

"They die…"

"That is correct."

Harry's head swam. Was that what Malfoy had meant when he told Harry that he loved him? And the dream? Harry looked down at Malfoy and he immediately knew it was true. Draco was dieing and it was all his fault.

"How long does he have?"

"We don't know. It could be a few minutes or a few days. All we know for sure is that it will be before the end of the day." A retching sob caught all their attentions as Malfoy gave a pitiful gag and threw up a massive amount of blood.

"Harry…" He looked at Draco's pallid features and his heart clenched in his chest. Draco didn't deserve this. "I love you, Harry. Even in death. I can honestly say cough that this is not the way I thought I'd go…" Malfoy's eyes began to close slowly, his breathing evening out as if he was about to drift into a peaceful sleep. Everyone present in the room new differently. Harry felt panic begin to claw at his senses. He didn't want Draco to die. Even the thought of Draco's death sent a jolt of pain through his body and set a sick feeling deep in his stomach.

The room was quite…to quite, Harry realized in absolute horror. He stared down at the Draco and his fears became reality. The slytherin's chest no longer rose and his features were serene like they had never been in life.

Mrs. Malfoy was sobbing into her husband's chest and Harry suddenly felt the urge to cry as well. How could he have let this happen? He had never been able to admit it before but Malfoy had meant something important to him. He couldn't call it love, he didn't know what it was, but it was important.

"Harry Potter, the first person to kill his mate by rejection in over three centuries." Harry's head jerked up when he heard the whispered remark from the doorway of the hospital wing. There stood a beautiful woman with silver hair and eyes that looked like planets. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy dropped to their knees and Harry could do nothing but stare, shocked, as the seen unfolded before him.

"Your Highness," the two Malfoy's whispered in reverence as the radiant woman approached. The queen of the veela smiled down at them, motioning for them to rise.