Kiss in the Dark

Canaries Sing,

Or,

Absolution

Harry woke to the sounds of soft sobs and a songbird chirping.

It was an overcast day in mid-November, a little after two o'clock. Ginny had taken the children over to Molly's, and Harry was working on catching up on some much needed sleep.

But then the sobs woke him up. He sat up slowly, his unconscious mind telling him that Lily had woken up again. As he fumbled for his glasses, there was a soft gasp, and the songbird chirped again. He paused, now fully awake. He carefully put his glasses on, sliding to the side of the bed to peer around the hangings.

Draco Malfoy was sitting on his windowsill, curled around one knee with his hand pressed against his mouth as he struggled not to let himself be heard. On the sill next to him sat a canary, peering up at them both with black eyes.

Harry stared. Draco stared back at him with broken, bleeding-heart eyes.

"You're a wanted man, Malfoy." A brief nod as Draco dried his eyes on his sleeve. He looked a mess.

"You've been convicted of killing no less than eight people, two of them Muggles." Harry half-expected some sarcastic retort, for Draco to put on his mask of pride again, like he'd done so many years ago. Neither of those things happened.

Draco turned to look out the window.

"I killed fourteen people, Harry. God," he pressed his fingers to his mouth again, "I've wanted to do that for so long. Say your name, I mean. Harry James Potter." Draco managed a small, nervous smile. That smile and those desperate eyes made him so beautiful.

"Why are you here? How did you even-"

"I'm not really here, Harry."

"…then how am I seeing you?" A nervous fidget as Draco bit his lip. The sun suddenly broke through the clouds, making Harry squint in the brilliant light. Shouldn't Draco's body have blocked that? There was a certain…unreality to the situation that made Harry get to his feet. Draco rose, too, eyes panicked. They canary twittered, hopping on the sill.

"Harry reached out, but Draco shrank back.

"Don't. Please." Slowly, Harry withdrew.

Draco bit his lip.

Harry waited.

The bird chirped. Draco glanced at it and nodded, as if it had prompted him to speak.

"I jumped off a bridge into the Thames yesterday afternoon. This, me, standing here? It's just a spell. I'm dead, Harry."

The bird chirped.

"You killed yourself?" Barely a question, really. The guilt and shame were written on his face. Grief welled up, slowly but surely. It was so familiar. Too familiar.

"God." It was all he could say.

The bird chirped.

"Why?" Draco fidgeted again, and turned to look outside. This time Harry saw it; the sun passed straight through him, like a ghost. Harry swallowed heavily and the bird leapt into Draco's outstretched hand. He caged it with long, gently fingers, pet it's yellow feathers like it was a precious thing.

"I always envied birds. Even when they're captive, they can get a taste at freedom when they fly. They never…lose themselves, as long as they can fly. I lost myself, Harry. In my father's expectations. In the Dark Lord's command. And now in the nightmares and the running. I'm so tired, Harry. I just wanted to be able to sleep."

The bird chirped.

Draco smiled tentatively at him even though he'd started crying again.

"There are some things, though, that I regret. Can you guess what they are?"

Harry put his hand to his forehead. He was still numb from the grief that wouldn't leave him alone. A shaky laugh escaped him.

"No, I've no idea. What?" Draco's smile widened, and he stepped closer like he was going to tell Harry a secret.

"I regret not telling you yes, all those years ago, when you asked if we could try and be friends. I regret not spending every possible second I could around you, and I regret getting myself mixed up with Death Eaters again." He was in front of where Harry sat on his bed, and he sank to his knees. He gently covered one of Harry's hands with one of his own, the other still cradling the bird. Draco's touch was so cold, so deathly cold.

"And most of all, I regret not telling you from the bloody beginning that I love you." He tilted his chin up and brushed his lips to Harry's, soft like yellow feathers. He hadn't realized they were so close until the feeling of plunging into icy water came over him, an invisible current tugging at his body. An image sprang to his mind of Draco's body washed up on the shore of the river. His eyes were glass-dead, hair darkened by water clinging to his face. His lips were blue from the cold. Harry broke away from Draco with a cry, horror and anguish all in one noise. Draco smiled grimly, and retreated back to the window. Harry choked down his grief and despair so he could hear Draco's next words.

"Your wife and children are lovely. Your daughter especially. She has-"

"My eyes. My mother's eyes."

The bird chirped. Draco smiled at it, the sight bringing a brief flutter of joy even as it was swallowed by grief.

"There's a cigarette case that will arrive tonight by owl. It's a Portkey that will take you to my body, and you can trace the key in my pocket back to my hideout. Any evidence you might need and all that. And Harry?"

Harry looked up from his hands.

"Tell my mother I'm sorry, and that I love her." He pressed his lips to the canary's head, then opened his hands. As the bird took flight in a flutter of yellow, Draco evaporates into the sunshine that streamws through the window.

The room was unchanged.

Harry was not.

AN: Well. I hadn't expected to make a sequel, but I did. Damn plot bunnies. But that imagery of Draco with the two birds in the sixth movie will not leave me alone. And Harry and Draco got their kiss! Although, ANGST, DRACO, SO MUCH ANGST. Also, I don't know if it's saved right, but there should be a bunch of spaces between some lines. Your monitor is not malfunctioning, though mine might be. Xd Reviews would be lovely.