Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Life in Three Acts
Summary: Life doesn't always go as planned.
Warning: Character death
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Please don't hurt me.
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Feedback: I am a junkie, feed my addiction. I especially like constructive criticism. If you can find something wrong with one of my stories, tell me so I can fix it. Just let me know anything you think.
Author’s notes: And this is what happens when I have scenes, but no actual 'Where does everything fit?' vibe, and no actual muse. So, Ish, please don't hate me. :)
Email: moriavis@hotmail.com
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Act 1
15 years ago
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Moonlight drifted over the two boys on the bed, shimmering over their entwined bodies. “Is this real?” One asked softly, entwining his fingers in pale strands that cascaded over his shoulder.
“For now, it’s as real as it can be,” came the soft answer.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
In the morning, Draco Malfoy was gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“You’re transferring to Durmstrang?” Harry shouted in disbelief, grabbing Draco’s arm as the smaller boy watched him impassively. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I’m telling you right now.” Came the distant answer, and Harry ran his hand through his hair.
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“I’m going to become a Death Eater when I reach my majority, Potter.” Draco’s face was expressionless, and he held himself with a poise Harry didn’t think he would ever be able to emulate under the circumstances. “My father believes that Dumbledore is obstructing the studies that I need. In Durmstrang, I’ll be able to study anything that I desire.”
“So are you just doing this for your father, or is this what you want?” Harry asked, grasping Draco’s sleeve again.
“My father’s will is what I want.”
“That’s a fucking lie, Dray!” Harry shouted. “What about everything that you told me? What about all of your own dreams and hopes? What about--”
“Did you really think any of that mattered? Gods, Potter, you’re more naïve than I thought!”
“Please, Dray. Stay with me.” Harry pleaded. “Fine, become a Death Eater. Learn all the Dark Magic that you want. Just stay with me, I’m begging you! If you want me on my knees--” Harry sank to his knees and grabbed Draco’s robes. “I’m on my knees. If this is some plot of yours to humiliate me, tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it! Just please don’t leave me alone! Don’t ignore what we have—we have something perfect, something so pure that that it hurts—It’s radiant when we’re together, but I can’t live without it when we’re apart!”
“Harry…” Draco disentangled Harry’s hands from his robes and knelt beside the darker boy. “Stop. Don’t beg me to change what can’t be changed.” Draco kissed Harry lightly, gently on the lips, and stroked his cheek. “Don’t ever beg anyone, Harry. The Boy Who Lived shouldn’t bow down to anyone.” And with a flourish of Draco’s cloak, Harry knew once more what it felt like to be left behind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Interlude
14 years ago
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ron came in after a long while, his brown eyes warm with concern and affection as he helped Harry up and tucked him into his bed. “Are you all right, Harry?”
“Draco’s gone,” Harry whispered, his pain burning relentlessly into him as he denied himself the freedom of tears. “He’s gone.”
“Yes. He is. He’s been gone for nearly a year.” Ron swept back the fringe of black hair that spilled over Harry’s forehead. “You need to forget him, Harry. Find someone else.”
“What, and you’re offering?” Harry asked, sarcasm dying quickly in the face of his numbness.
“If you’d have me, yes.”
Harry took a deep breath, looking up at his best friend as he shook his head. “I can’t give you my heart, Ron.”
Ron lowered his head, and his lips brushed Harry’s. “Whatever you can give me will have to be enough.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Act 2
10 years ago
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“I’ll be right back, Harry,” Ron said. “I need to go look for…” Harry nodded, tuning Ron out as he wandered around the Potions shop. He hadn’t been to Diagon Alley in a while… he couldn’t summon up the energy to care. Everything remained the same, frozen in still moments, as he had frozen. There was a whoosh of cool air as Ron left the store, and Harry wandered out to the dried herbs in the front of the store, breathing in the scent of the plants. The hair on the back of his neck rose suddenly, and he paused, breathless.
“I always knew the Weasel would be good for you.”
The cultured voice flooded Harry with memories, and he trailed his fingers absently over a clump of hemp in front of him. “Weasels are more interesting than I thought they’d be,” Harry whispered, shooting up a glance at Draco. He still looked exactly the same…tamed argent hair, cool stormy eyes, the regal bearing… “But I still love dragons the most.”
Silvery eyes darkened to ash, and closed as Draco took a deep breath.
“Why, Draco? You owe me at least that.” Harry met Draco’s surprised gaze boldly.
“Do you still…?” he murmured in disbelief, blinking until he got his composure back. Harry stared at him passionately, and Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because that’s the way it had to be.” Draco murmured. “Because… as much as we might have loved when we were children, we were still Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. We both knew it could never last forever.”
“And what if, perhaps, we still love…?” Harry’s eyes flashed emerald before darkening to forest as he returned to apathy. “You never gave us a chance at forever, Draco.”
“So it’s my fault.” Draco inclined his head. “I can accept that.”
“I have to get back to Ron.” Harry stepped back, and Draco reached a hand out, gently tracing the line of Harry’s tousled black locks.
“If it’s any consolation, Harry,” Draco murmured softly. “Every time I touch her, I pretend it’s you.”
Her.
Pansy.
The words hung between them, the air thick with declarations that they would never speak. With a final look back at his former lover, Draco faded into the crowd, leaving Harry shivering and alone, a stranger in a land of strangers.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Act 3
The Present
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I want the truth, Harry!” Ron shouted, throwing his hands up in the air as fury turned his face as red as his hair. “You still love that fucking bastard even now, don’t you? You love him more than you’ll ever love me!”
“Yes,” Harry stated calmly. “I do.” Ron’s silence made Harry sigh. “You knew that, Ron. I told you that I could give you my body, but not my heart. You told me it would be enough.”
“It isn’t enough anymore!” Ron shouted. “Fuck, Harry! Just once I want to see you come alive for me! I want to see a spark of something from you! Anything!! Anything…”
“I have nothing to give.” Harry murmured tiredly.
“I’m leaving, Harry.” Spoken softly, intensely.
“Good-bye, Ron.”
“Harry!”
“What?” Harry whirled around to face his lover. “What do you expect me to say? There’s only one person I ever begged for anything—I’m never going to beg for anything again. Not even for you, if that’s what you’re waiting for. So go! Go to Hermione or Seamus or whomever the hell you want. Maybe they’ll be able to give you what I can’t.”
“You have to say good-bye to him someday, Harry.”
“To say that to him will mean it’s over. But it’s not. No matter whom I fuck, it will never be over for me.”
Ron closed his eyes, sighing as he sagged against the wall.
“Are you all right?” Harry asked, more out of habit than concern.
“There…there was a letter.” Ron declared quietly, looking at the carpet between his feet. “A few years ago. Before Lucius--” Ron swallowed as Harry stiffened. “I hid it from you…I still believed, then…”
“What letter?” Harry growled, his eyes flaring angrily as he stalked toward the other man. "WHAT letter? From who?”
“You already know, Harry.” Ron reached out to Harry and touched his cheek. “You sparked for him.” Ron turned away to his dresser, pulling out a yellowed envelope. He handed the parchment to Harry, his eyes regretful. “I only wanted you to spark for me, Harry...just once…” Ron smiled wryly and left the room. A few minutes later, Harry heard the door shut.
Only then would he look at the letter.
Harry.
It was Draco’s writing. Harry carefully opened it and sank down onto the floor.
I can’t do this anymore, Harry. The image of you in Diagon Alley has haunted me every night since I last saw you, the mirror image of my own loneliness and desolation. Perhaps, by now, you have begun to appreciate weasels, and your fascination for dragons has faded. I have no right to contemplate this missive… led only by fear and exhaustion, aching with longing to have your arms around me, holding me close… You were right all along; I am a fool.
A Malfoy must never confess emotional attachments did you know that? It is a weakness that we can’t allow ourselves. But I love you. I think I’ve loved you since that first meeting together in Malkin’s Robe Shop. In you I found my soulmate, my opposite, my equal. Someone that could challenge me with flashing eyes in one moment, and melt into my embrace in the next. Has my cruelty murdered the man that once loved me with all his heart?
Even now I can hear you, in that far away moment in Gryffindor Tower, begging me not to go, begging me to cling to what we had.
Now, it is I that beg you. I beg you to love me as you once did. I beg you to come and take me to a place where it’s only you and me and no one else. I beg you to save me from myself.
The world is closing in on me, Harry. Love me now before I find myself incapable of loving anyone.
Draco
“Oh, gods,” Harry moaned, crumpling the letter as he clutched it to his chest, rocking back and forth. “Oh, gods. Please, no, please please please…” Hot tears spilled over his cheeks, burning trails down his skin and dropping onto the letter, blurring the ink into an echo of its former words.
Harry Apparated.
He cried out as he Splinched upon arrival to his destination, Draco’s words searing, branded across his skin. Harry collapsed, clutching at the dry and crackling grass. “I’m here, Draco!” Harry sobbed. “I’m finally here, and I love you I love you…”
Harry curled up on the brittle grass, weeping as the setting sun washed everything in shades of orange and gold. In the fading overtones of dying light, a message shone on the marble stone that rested before Harry, unblemished by his grief.
Here lies Draco Malfoy.
He was loved.
The End.
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