Harry Potter glanced out of his living room window, watching as the rain drenched the countryside. The weather was a perfect representation of how he felt: miserable. The house seemed oddly empty, which is saying something as he lived alone. The shadows that lurked in the corners threatened to overtake him. A thick blanket of silence wrapped around him, making hearing difficult. The only sound he could make out was the beating of his own heart.
Harry sat down in the armchair that was positioned by the window. As he watched the dark clouds rolling across the sky, ones that reflected his mood, he began losing himself in his thoughts. Over the past few weeks, his mood had become more surly and darker. The date of when one of his worst memories had occurred was drawing ever closer, and dark thoughts continually plagued his mind.
It had taken place on the eve of his graduation, the day all of Hogwarts’ seventh years were supposed to be in high spirits and celebrating. Instead, Harry had wandered away from the festivities and down an abandoned corridor, only to be told something that would shatter his heart and haunt him for the next four years.
Harry sat back in his armchair, the darkness overwhelming him as the memory became resurfaced in his mind once more...
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That June morning dawned bright and beautiful; a warm breeze blew across the Hogwarts grounds. The graduates of 1998 awoke, feeling elated about what was set to occur later that day.
The day was to be spent participating in various festivities, signing random items to remember each other by, and exchanging thoughts for the future. Harry was among those doing the latter, stating how he was still pursuing his dream of becoming an Auror. All throughout that day, Harry found himself searching for a pair of stunning grey eyes. Whenever they were seen looking back at him through the crowd, he smiled secretly. He never did notice the pain and sadness hidden in their depths.
Dinnertime rolled around much faster than the students had anticipated. Harry had finished and left the Gryffindor table, saying that he wanted to take a walk and think. He never saw the grey eyes following his every move.
The raven-haired Gryffindor wandered aimlessly through the empty entrance hall, melancholy thoughts now beginning to seep into every fibre of his mind. This would be his last night in the one place he had begun to consider as his home. Tomorrow he would be on the train, ready to start life as an adult.
Harry’s thoughts carried him up a few flights of stairs and down several corridors. He had the feeling one usually got when being followed, but he passed it off as he spotted the ghosts drifting aimlessly through the walls. Pausing at a window located along the corridor, he looked out onto the grounds. So many things have happened out there that he never wanted to forget. His emerald eyes drifted towards the Quidditch pitch. He smiled sadly, knowing he would miss playing the game.
“Harry...”
The Gryffindor started, jumping away from the window.
“Draco,” he breathed out in relief when he noticed the Slytherin. He stepped forward and embraced the blonde, a smile gracing his features. “You scared me.”
He then stepped back to peer at the other boy. When he saw the look on his face, Harry’s smile faded.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to tell you something,” Draco replied, his voice extremely quiet, his fingers pulling at the sleeves of his robes, causing them to become slightly frayed. “It’s very important.”
“Erm... okay,” Harry replied, looking at the other boy worriedly. Draco paused for a moment before turning around and leading them down an unused corridor.
“Now, what’s so important?” Harry asked, stepping forward and taking hold of one of Draco’s wrists. The blonde looked down at the clasped fingers, hesitating while he mulled over how to word his thoughts.
“We can’t go on like this, Harry,” he finally blurted out, his voice sounding slightly choked. He squeezed the Gryffindor’s hand briefly before letting go and taking a step back. His normally bright grey eyes were dull and filled with deep regret.
“Wh--what do you mean?” Harry questioned, confusion making itself apparent on his face. His heart skipped a beat and his mind feared the worst.
“We can’t continue seeing each other in secret,” the blonde answered, his eyes now looking glassy. He averted his gaze down to the floor, unable to look at the expression on Harry’s face. The Gryffindor stuttered incoherently before muttering a single syllable.
“Why?”
“Can’t you see, Harry?” Draco replied in an exasperated voice. “You’re a wanted man. My father could figure us out, and have you killed on the spot. That, or he’ll use me to hand you over to Voldemort. You know I don’t want that to happen.”
“I know, but how could they find out about us?” Harry countered, a pleading look in his eyes. With every syllable the blonde uttered, he could feel his chest constricting. It killed him to hear the one person that understood him so well and has gone through many of the same things he had turning away from him.
“My father has his ways,” Draco said quietly, closing his eyes.
“Then don‘t go home,” Harry suggested, his voice desperate and pleading. “We can travel after we graduate. It wouldn’t make it easier for them to find us.” There was a new light in those jade eyes, one that held a small glimmer of hope.
“Yes, it would,” the blonde replied. Those three words caused Harry’s world to come crashing down. “There are still ways for them to locate us. Voldemort has small groups of Death Eaters stationed in different parts of the world. It would only make things worse, especially for you.”
“Draco, please,” Harry cried out in exasperation. He walked forward and placed his hands on the blonde’s shoulders. He shook him gently, trying to get him to open his eyes and look at him. “You can’t do this to me. I -- I care about you too much.”
“I know,” Draco replied quietly, a couple tears escaping from beneath his closed eyelids. “That’s why this hurts so bad.” His frame began shaking as he began sobbing quietly. He was about ready to crack under the strain of suppressed emotions.
“Then don’t do this,” Harry whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “We could figure something out. Maybe Dumbledore can help us. I think he already knows.” The blonde opened his eyes at that, shaking his head in response.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” he said quietly. Draco pressed his lips to the Gryffindor’s, attempting to show him just how much he cared about him. Harry reached up and gently brushed his hand against the smooth, pale skin, their lips moving against the other’s. Draco reached up and tangled his slender fingers in the Gryffindor’s midnight locks, gently prompting his mouth open. Their kiss deepened, them exploring what had now become very well known territory.
When breathing became an issue, the two boys broke apart. Draco gently bit Harry’s bottom lip before fully pulling away. He looked into Harry’s eyes, seeing a mixture of sadness and love.
“I’ll miss you,” the Gryffindor choked out, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice.
“Don’t forget me.”
Giving him one last watery smile, Draco turned and began walking down the corridor. Just before he rounded the corner, he turned to look back at the Gryffindor.
“Good-bye, Harry...”
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Harry opened his eyes, letting go of a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. There was now a sharp pain that lodged itself in the empty hole in his heart. He couldn’t bare thinking about that fateful day. It was just too much.
As if acting upon instinct, his hand searched for the necklace that hung around his neck. It was a silver snake with emerald eyes, something that he had received from Draco on Christmas. The memory of that morning brightened his spirits just a little, but it did nothing to fill the emptiness.
He and Draco had first gotten together in the middle of their sixth year. They had gotten themselves stuck in several detentions together, and the two had gotten to know each other pretty well. After finding out that they had so much in common, they began growing closer, despite their differences in the past. It was only a matter of time before the two of them were meeting secretly in empty classrooms and corridors, either to snog or just to talk. He never even told Ron and Hermione, though he thought that Hermione suspected that he was seeing someone. If she had, she never said anything about it.
Over the next year and a half, so many things had happened. Fights were at an all-time high, but not for the reasons others thought. The sheer thrill of just being able to touch each other without making it look like what it actually was seemed to be enough to drive them both overboard.
Towards the end of their seventh year, Harry, unable to keep it bottled up any longer, confessed to Draco that he loved him. The blonde had looked so surprised that Harry thought he had made a mistake and that Draco didn’t feel the same way. Instead, the Slytherin pressed him up against the wall and snogged him silly, only pausing to tell him that he loved him as well. Harry, now twenty-one years of age, would give anything to just go back to that day and stay there forever, but he knew it wasn’t possible.
Sighing, he stood up and walked over to his bookcase and picked up a framed picture. It showed him and Draco standing in each other’s arms by the lake at Hogwarts. Harry smiled sadly, remembering when he asked Colin Creevy to take it, threatening to hex him if he told a single soul. Thank Merlin the boy kept true to his word.
There was also another farther along the shelf that made Harry laugh lightly. It depicted him and Draco laughing and throwing snow at each other on the school grounds, pausing every once in a while to share a seemingly innocent kiss.
A sudden knock at the door startled the pensive man, almost causing him to drop the photo. He glanced at the clock, then raised an eyebrow. It was nine-thirty in the evening. Who would come by this late?
Placing the picture back on its shelf, he glanced at it wistfully, the ache in his heart renewing itself. He then went over toward the door, opening it cautiously. The sight that met his eyes almost caused his heart to stop beating then and there.
Standing just beyond the threshold in the pouring rain, his platinum blonde hair matted to his head, clothes drenched through, and a shy smile on his pale face, stood Draco Malfoy.
“Hello, Harry...”