“...fucking Potter Stinks badges.” Harry says absently. “I think I would’ve found them funny if we were friends, and the entire school didn’t really hate me at the time.”
Harry knows his humour’s been off lately, what with the whole dying fiasco, but he’s said far less interesting things to Draco, and at least gotten a ‘you’re not as funny as you think you are,’ or a ‘you’re absurd, I love you.’ Now, Draco says nothing.
Not that Harry can really blame him.
Squeezing Draco’s hand tightly, Harry looks back to Snape and Remus, who’s pretending he’s not crying by staring at his watch. Snape has his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Draco?” Harry asks, squeezing again, but his hand goes straight through Draco’s.
A memory through flesh and bone.
And Harry knows, he’s dead now.
Anytime Harry allowed himself to imagine how the end of the summer would play out, he imagined Draco more or less as a Disney princess, sobbing over the side of the chaise lounge with Harry’s still body in the background.
Tragic, beautiful, wet.
Apparently, Harry has a thing for people who happen to cry a lot.
But none of Harry’s imaginings ended with Draco hunched over the side of the bed, Harry’s obviously dead hand clasped in his, completely still, completely silent.
“Let him grieve. You know how it feels.” Snape says to Remus, both of them watching Draco from the doorway.
“As do you. He’ll stay there until someone makes him move.”
And it really seems like he will .
Draco ignores just about all of Remus’ attempts to get him talking, moving, eating. Remus succeeds in getting Draco to eat half a bowl of soup, but that’s all. Hedwig sits near Harry the whole meal, clicking her beak at him, but no one seems to notice.
Arthur and Molly come over, and Remus tells them the bad news in the kitchen. Snape quietly excuses himself.
Arthur stares at the wall for about ten minutes as Remus explains Dumbledore’s plans. When the shock wears off, Molly screams about Sirius and Remus pretending Harry is a replacement James, how they never tried keeping Harry out of the war, how they’re responsible for his ‘Saviour Complex,’ and Harry leaves the kitchen to go back to Draco.
“I know. I know it’s my fault.” Remus tells her. Harry couldn't watch him accept everything Molly throws like it’s Remus’ fault Harry was a horcrux. Remus’ fault Harry’s parents were killed and Harry was thrown into the new war by Voldemort himself.
Draco is still there, holding Harry’s stiff hand like he can bring Harry to life again if he just squeezes hard enough. Snape is hovering at the door.
“Potter wasn’t the only person to care about you.” He says quietly. Draco doesn’t seem to have heard him. “Anyone can see how much… how your family cares for each other.”
Of course, which one can tell by how present and active Draco’s parents are in his life. Obviously, they have their priorities straight. Harry scoffs.
“I truly hope this doesn’t break you.” Snape concludes, almost too quiet to hear, lifting off the doorway to enter the room fully. “Draco.”
Draco doesn’t look up until Snape shakes him by the shoulder.
“The Weasleys are coming up here in a few minutes.” Snape tells him.
Draco just stares back, unwilling or unable to process Snape’s words.
