Beautiful World by Lissadiane

part 45

He wasn’t letting go, Draco decided. His arm was going numb, his back was cramping up, but he wouldn’t ever let go. Harry was sleeping, leaning against Draco, and Draco, for all the world, could not dream of letting go.

He checked his watch and whispered, “Nearly time, Harry,” though Harry didn’t stir. Draco counted down to his birthday alone, quietly, and when his watch showed midnight, he tightened his arms around Harry’s shoulders and buried his face in his hair.

“Happy birthday, Harry.”

Harry slept on, and after a cautious moment, Draco lifted his head, closing his eyes and listening carefully. He was still breathing, and the relief was sharp. But then, Harry had said that the spell would wear off at sunrise, and it was still dark. Still, it seemed a sort of victory, that it was officially July 31st and Harry was still breathing.

Hours passed, and Draco didn’t move. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be thinking about, feeling, doing with his hands. So he stayed perfectly still and didn’t think about anything, except the stars and the moon and the dark London skyline.

When it got to be too painful, he gently shifted Harry off of his lap and onto the roof. With that movement came a shuddering sort of energy, and Draco began prowling around the roof, thinking now more than ever before, out loud.

“He’s not going to die. What if he dies? He can’t die, I refuse to think all this has been for nothing…”

But then, it hadn’t been for nothing. If Harry left him and Draco had to spend the rest of his life alone, he couldn’t honestly say that this last little while hadn’t affected him. Hadn’t given him the courage to walk away from everything he’d been afraid of. He’d changed. No one could possibly go through something like this without being changed. Whether or not it lasted forever was negligible when he considered that. He was stronger than ever and brighter too, like wells of energy had been burst open inside of him. He’d been sheltered and scared before and now he was strong and felt like he could maybe even be brave, if the situation demanded it. After all, courage held by those with no other choice than to be brave is not a characteristic they can claim as their own but one they borrow when the situation demands it. And there was no one in the world Draco would rather borrow his courage from.

It was strange, very strange, that he should discover infinite sources of strength inside himself now, when he was feeling so weak, so helpless. When faced with insurmountable pain and terror, real terror at something that he couldn’t believe would come to pass…

He remembered before this all had begun. Thinking about the difference between fear and worry. That you feared what you thought would come true and that worry was softer because you worried about things that couldn’t possibly happen. But Harry couldn’t possibly die. It just wasn’t bearable. And yet, Draco had never been so afraid.

There was a tinge of blue in the sky, and Draco cocked his head and watched it for a moment. The eastern horizon was slowly filling with colour. He glanced at Harry, pale, sleeping, and very still in the shadow of the chimney.

He took a hesitant step towards him, wanting to wake him, to touch him, to feel him breathe.

Two futures stretched ahead of him in the rising of the sun. One, full of burning funeral pyres and watching winter gardens bloom alone. The other, laughing and smiling and never ever letting go of Harry’s hand for fear that he’d slip away but knowing that, when the time came, he’d take Draco with him. Not yet, not yet. Not now.

“Harry?” he called softly, but Harry didn’t move. Biting his lip consideringly, Draco glanced once more at the rising sun. Birds were beginning to sing softly, and a misty sort of light was beginning to fall over the skyline.

***

Harry was dreaming, and in his dream, he was walking along a dirt road on a dark night. For the first little bit, he walked alone, though this did not surprise him. Soon enough, however, someone joined him, and together, they walked a short while in silence.

Curiosity overcame him and he turned to look at his companion. Hagrid stared back at him with dark, dark eyes that shone with tears. Feeling immeasurably better, Harry continued along the path with Hagrid silently beside him.

His eyes were fixed on a distant place where, just barely, he could make out the image of shadows, waiting for him.

“Are you scared?” asked his companion, and he turned again. Hagrid was gone, and now Albus Dumbledore walked beside him.

“No,” Dumbledore said. “What have I to fear?”

“Should I be scared?” he asked, frowning.

“It would not be shameful if you were,” was the reply. Feeling slightly comforted by this, Harry’s step was a little lighter as they kept walking.

He was considering Dumbledore’s words, but by the time he thought up a reply, Dumbledore was gone, and Hermione and Ron had taken his place. Harry was glad of that. This journey wasn’t nearly as long and tiresome as he’d been worried it was going to be.

He gave his reply to them. “I wouldn’t be scared, normally. It’s just… I don’t know the way.”

Hermione smiled her motherly smile and, though she did not touch him, Harry felt as though he’d just been hugged. “Don’t worry, it’s not so far now, we’ll walk with you.”

“All the way?” he asked.

Ron looked vaguely troubled. “As far as we can,” he allowed.

Harry nodded and they walked on and then they were gone and Sirius was there. “Forgive me,” Harry whispered.

“You’ve done nothing for which you should be ashamed, Harry.” Sirius’ voice was very gentle.

“I have. I took it all for granted. I wanted this.” He gestured to the world around him.

“The point of life, Harry, like with any story, is not that you learn the moral before the lesson has been taught. You saw the right of things before the end, and that is all that matters. You saw the error of your ways. The world is beautiful, Harry, there is no denying that. But what awaits you is more beautiful still.”

Harry looked towards the waiting shadows, which had come now even closer. He believed he could make out the faces of his parents, and his mother’s was streaked with ashes and tears.

But still, he looked back the way he had come. “I’m not sure I have the strength to let go. I don’t want to be forgotten.”

Sirius was gone, and Harry did not turn to look at the speaker who took his place. He knew without looking who it was. “You never really will. You don’t think I’m going to let you go?”

“Sometimes you don’t get a choice,” Harry said faintly.

“And if you did have a choice?”

His mother and father waited ahead, waiting for him, and the road back was long. His muscles ached and his eyes burned, and Harry was so very, very tired. Still, without hesitation, he turned to Draco with a trembling smile and said, “I’d do anything to do it all over again, even if it ended this way still. Had I a choice, you know I would not go.”

Draco smiled a bit and nodded, but he’d stopped walking. “I cannot follow you further,” he said. “The rest of it is yours to walk alone.”

That next step was the hardest Harry ever took, and then he turned and glanced over his shoulder at Draco, who watched solemnly. “I don’t want to be forgotten,” he called softly.

“The stars will sing of it,” was the reply, in a whisper. “We’re immortal, you and I.”

And then, walking backwards because everything he was leaving behind was so beautiful that Harry could not bear to look away, he lifted one hand and waved once, solemnly. Then he turned and walked forward, sleepy, weak, and aching for everything he’d left behind.

Ahead of him, Lily’s tears washed away the ashes that painted her face.