Draco POV

"Fucking Theo," I muttered to myself for probably the hundredth time, clutching my cloak to fight the chill in the night air.

There were spots of color on the horizon, speckles of it on the black lake. My sadness at his departure had morphed into anger over the passing hours. He was supposed to care about me, supposed to be on my side. The shite part is that I could understand why. I could understand why he'd betrayed me for her. He knew and I knew deep behind those walls I'd built. He knew that I had always had some sort of obsession with Granger, that despite the fact that I was supposed to hate her, I envied her and I had wanted her. I'd spent the year in Azkaban coming to the realization, recognizing it for myself as I replayed the events of the night in the manor over and over again. We had fought about it over the years. I had denied it, forcing myself to lie about it over and over again- to myself and to him. I'd seen his eyes follow her the same as mine eventually. He felt the same as I did- he craved, he wanted. I couldn't even hate him for trying to fix what I had broken, that nothing would ever happen because of me, that I couldn't have her. That didn't mean I couldn't be angry or hurt. If he knew what I did, how I hurt her, what would he do then? Would I lose him? Would I lose him to her?

I wanted to break something at the thought. If I had my wand, I could use that. Maybe breaking something with my hands would feel even better. I stood from the spot I hadn't vacated for hours, where I had passed time in a fitful sleep that came and went, between the sharp bite of anger and the dull ache of pain. I made my way out of the astronomy tower. I didn't even bother with the back entrance. It wasn't entirely too early for students to be out of bed. Some students used the time in the early morning, as the sun was rising, to practice extracurriculars. The thought brought with it a purpose.

If I broke something, I wanted Theo to know. I wanted it to be something that meant something to him, even if magic made broken things simple fixes. I wanted him to know that I destroyed something he loved purely because he loved it. It was what forced my feet, a need to show him my anger at him leaving me in that tower. I made my way to the orchestra room.

My anger waned at the first sound of music in the distance- rich and full. The sound of bow meeting string was full of sorrow.

I had known that there was a possibility he would be there. I knew that was where he disappeared to in earlier years, early mornings where he needed an outlet, when the talent he possessed was used for a whole different purpose.

Theo had played double bass most of his childhood. At first, it had been to appease his mother, but eventually it was to challenge his father- the tyrant. After her death, he had dove into the music with a new sort of abandon, filling his time at school with the sounds of symphonies instead of the screams and beatings he was dealt at home. My father was an asshole for certain, abusive in voice but not touch. A part of me knew that it would have been much the same for me if my mother hadn't been there to stop him. The thought of him still being in Azkaban brought me a brief spurt of joy, rotting alongside Nott Sr for the countless uses of the death curse, serving their life sentences together while their children tried to mend from a life of rage.

Rounding the corner into the orchestra room, I saw him. Theo. Lost in the music, strumming the strings with his left hand as he stroked with the bow in his right. He looked…beautiful and a little less broken in that moment. Tousled dark hair moved with his frantic fingers and bow, sweat glistened on his brow where the rising sun came through a window and struck his face, and eyes remained shut- eyes that I knew to be an encompassing shade of blue. I could see how much he felt the music, how much it meant to him and I was in awe of him. With soft feet, I made my way across the room, not wanting to interrupt, but being drawn closer out of instinct. I wanted to touch him. No, Ineeded to touch him.

I made it within a few short meters of him when he recognized my presence. His eyes opened, shining like gems in that same beam of sunlight that lit up his face. He didn't stop playing, not until I touched his cheek and pulled his attention to my face. A kiss. I would steal one more kiss before he would learn the truth, before he would hate me.

I paused an inch away from contact, letting him stop it if that's what he wanted, waiting for his refusal. There was none. He only sighed, his breath brushing my lips and cheeks. I captured the last of it with my mouth, with a kiss that was so much softer than any I had ever given him. If this was the last one, I wanted him to know that it meant something. Maybe not the something he had always wanted, the something I was never ready for, but it was something more than just rough sex.

He answered with passion, tossing the instrument to the side that he would surely fix later with a simple spell. All he seemed to care about was touching me, and I felt much the same. His hands curled around my neck as he deepened our kiss. I felt the familiar ache in my groin as he dragged me to the floor, into that little patch of warm sunlight.

"I want you," he murmured against my lips, tugging at my shirt in such a different way, like he couldn't get enough of his skin touching mine.

"You have me, everything I can give," I replied following his lead, freeing him of his shirt.

It wasn't enough, I knew it wasn't enough. It wasn't fair to him, but he didn't care about fairness. He was too good for me, much too good. Even given the evil he had done, the fight he was on the wrong side for because of me. I wanted his fury though I craved his desire, his need. It was wrong of me, evil of me. As his mouth slid to my neck I exchanged my normal swear for praise. This wasn't angry, this wasn't pain, this was…

"So good," I said. He was good, this was good. I wanted so much to be worthy of it, of him.

He fumbled with the button on my trousers and pulled me free, wrapping his fist around me in an almost delicate way.

"You look so beautiful in the sunlight," he said and I was full of surprise because he was speaking exactly what I had thought upon seeing him. When was that? Had that been minutes? It felt like seconds. This was going to be over much too quickly.

Everything was going to be over. Time was speeding and I wanted it to stop. I gripped his soft hair, tugging his mouth back to mine as he worked me expertly in his hand.

I unlatched his trousers, taking him in my hand as well. We found a rhythm in our movements. He gasped, releasing my mouth.

"This is…fuck." I heard the understanding in his voice, he knew this was different too. We stroked, we panted, grinding against each other with urgency. The knot in me tightened with every shift of our hips. My free hand squeezed his shoulder tight.

"I wish I could hold you to me forever. Like this, just like this." The words spilled out in the light, around hurried shifting bodies. I ignored the wetness pooling in my eyes at his reaction to those words. I wanted to bottle his response. He shuddered, a full body quiver, twitching in my hand.

"Cum with me," he pleaded, placing his forehead on mine, but he didn't have to ask because I was already there. We came together for the final time before my world would explode. We both shook with the intensity of it, our breaths mingling as we panted.

We sat still for several moments and I soaked in the heat from the sun on my skin, basked in his shuddering breaths.

"I-," he spoke, but I cut him off, sliding my hand from his shoulder to his mouth. Hearing him say anything would ruin it, would stop me from saying the words that I knew would destroy everything. They had to be said, he had to know what I'd done. The sun shifted so suddenly, bathing us both in shadows while I ripped the words from behind those walls in my mind.

"I carved the word. I did it, Theo. Granger's scar. I cast the crucio on her myself too, my first unforgivable."

He tilted back so he was on his knees completely, sandwiching my legs. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"They would have known, the Wizengamot. They would have known, at least about the curse," he said, shaking his head. "You're lying."

"I'm not. Harry broke my wand, remember? No one ever knew. It wasn't just the once, it wasn't just during the battle to protect you. I branded her, I tortured her and I was hoping last night that she would return the favor. I wanted her to break me."

"Did they make you do it?" He asked.

I refused to answer. It didn't matter, I'd still done it. Even if they had made me, even if it had meant my life. It was still wrong, still my hand, my magic that had done it. He separated himself from me, shoving his dick back into his trousers in the same moment before spelling away the mess on both of us with his wand. I tucked myself away, ready to hear his fury. He leaned back, pressing his back into the legs of the chair he had been sitting in before I broke everything, letting his head fall back on the seat.

"Do you hate me?" I asked, because I needed to hear him say it. I needed him to crush me as thoroughly as I had crushed him and myself.

"No."

Shock. Swift and hard, it crashed into me like a tidal wave. He didn't mean that. He couldn't possibly mean it.

"You can't mean that. You must hate me," I said it as an order, anger bubbling to the surface. "Hate me, Theo!"

But he just shook his head, those bright eyes finding mine, full of resolve.

"No," he said softly, taking his hand in mine.

"We can fix this. We have to be able to fix this. I promise I will fix it."

I hated it. I hated that he didn't hate me. It made it even worse because his optimism, in spite of the most ugly truth, gave me the slightest glimmer of hope.