Author: Strings393
Fiction Title: A Ghost of You
Chapter Title: The Death of the Boy Who Lived
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, Violence, Death, Same-Sex Pairing
Summary: A ghost of you is all that I have left, it's all that I have left of you to hold. I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me and nothing left of what we were at all.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. This is all just fiction. I also don’t own the song Ghost of You; it’s property of Good Charlotte.

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I will wait until the end
When the pendulum will swing back to the darker side of our hearts bleeding
I will save this empty space next to me like it's a grave
Where I lay a place for us to sleep eternally together

I have been searching for traces of what we were
A ghost of you is all that I have left
It's all that I have left of you to hold
I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me
And nothing left of what we were at all

With a light gasp, my eyes snapped open wide. I propped himself up on my elbow, looking at the empty emerald pillow next to mine. My trademark silver Malfoy eyes darted around, looking for the occupant, but it was a few seconds later that the harsh reality settled back in. I laid my head back down on my pillow and pulled the vacant pillow closer to me. The scent of it’s usual occupant still lingered within the silk fabric. A single tear cascaded down my pale-as-porcelain cheek and onto the pillow.

So here I am pacing around this house again
With pictures of us living on these walls
I see my breath in the cold of the air that I breathe and I’m wondering
I’m wondering if it's you that I feel if it's you that I feel here haunting me forever

I have been searching for traces of what we were
A ghost of you is all that I have left
It's all that I have left of you to hold
I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me
And nothing left of what we were at all

No words could express the excruciating pain that I held inside. Screaming, shouting, crying, yelling…none of it helped. You were gone and that fact couldn’t be accepted. I put the pillow back and rose out of bed. The bitter air wrapped itself around me as I made my way to the hallway. Pictures of us together lined the wall and for a brief second, a small smile spread across my face. You were the only one that had that power over me. You were the only one that could bring the good and warmth out of my cold interior.

Now I remember why I made it a point to be so distant with people.

And I’m not looking for anything but us
Anything but what we were
And I’m not asking for painted memories
I only want to know you're here

I put a slender finger to the glass of a certain picture, one I hated, but you loved. I remember begging you not to put it up, but you insisted on doing it. You had talked me into a trip to the muggle amusement park, DisneyLand. You had put those obnoxious mouse ears on my head and had a worker there take a picture of you kissing my cheek with them on.

I wanted to kill you that day. You were all for everything. “C’mon, Drake! Let’s go to the Character Breakfast!” or “Drake…don’t be such a Slytherin. Let’s go to Splash Mountain!” Of course, being raised the way I was, I felt germ ridden afterwards. I despised the rides that got us soaked, but I had no idea what anything was, so I went along with it. I never saw you happier in all the years I knew you for. I then understood why you loved the muggle world; no one knew who you were. No one stared at you, no one whispered when you walked past them, but most of all, no one was worried about the Dark Lord attacking at any moment. I hate that bastard. It’s his fault you’re gone.

I turned away from our picture and leaned my head against the opposite wall. With a sudden burst of fury, I sent my fist through the drywall. I pulled my fist out and saw that my knuckles were covered in blood. The blood reminded me of the last battle that killed you and that asshole that my father almost got me to follow. Mostly everyone on the Dark Side is now dead or they left the country. My father, Crabbe and Goyle…even the Dark Lord himself were dead. You and he finished each other off. I wish that it was just him. I didn’t even get to say good bye to you; or that I loved you.

A ghost of you is all that I have left
It's all that I have left of you to hold
I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me
And nothing left of what we were at all

A ghost of you is all that I have left
It's all that I have left of you to hold
I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me
And nothing left of what we were at all

I walked back to my bed, our bed, and lay down. I rolled over away from your side and fell into an uneasy sleep; dreaming about the death of the Boy Who Lived.

Fini.