All I Have Left

Chapter Ninety Nine

TW: mature scenes, death

It was June 29, 1997 when Draco and I finalized the task. The date is engraved in my brain because I knew the moment I woke up that morning that my life would never be the same.

The Cabinet was repaired, and the Death Eaters were scheduled to come tomorrow. We were meant to kill Dumbledore tomorrow.

We had spent any free time between classes in the Room of Requirement completing finishing touches and making sure everything was set for tomorrow. By the time there was nothing else to be done, it was dinner, and everyone was in the Great Hall.

The two of us had no appetite, knowing that we'd be committing murder the next day. I could hardly keep food down. Instead, we went to my empty room and sat on my bed.

I studied him, taking note of the way Draco's hair was mussed and the bags under his eyes were as prominent as ever. His skin was a white-grey color, and he looked disturbed and unkept in a way I knew I resembled similarly.

Lately, I've been refusing to look in the mirror. I know for a fact that I'm not faring any better than Draco; my skin is dry and pale, my flesh thinned to the bones, and not to mention the increasing amount of white hair I've been noticing. The thought of facing my worn-down, weakened body and seeing the effect the last year had on me is nauseating.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asks me, leaning on his hands.

"Nothing." I dismiss, shaking my head. A raised brow from him has me telling him anyways. "It's just— I'm so scared."

He sighs, nodding. "I know."

I'm aware he knows— he understands more than anyone else. No one can grasp the troubles I've been facing like he can. I feel connected to him in a way I've never experienced with another person, and while this terrifies me, it also provides a sense of comfort.

Another feeling washes over me. It's one that has been building up within me for weeks, ever since his birthday, but one I have been trying to keep dormant. However, today I want to give in; the need to give myself to him completely overwhelms me.

Before I know it, I'm leaning forward to place a hand on his cheek, tracing his pale skin with the tips of my fingers. His eyes flutter shut as he nuzzles his face into my palm, gently pressing his lips to my skin. I slowly guide him towards me to meet his lips with my own.

We kiss slowly, his hand reaching up to bury itself in my curls and cradle the back of my head. His fingers lightly tug on my hair and I let out a soft mewl, one that makes him grunt and kiss me more passionately.

I shift myself so I'm hovering above his lap, my legs folded on either side of him. His free hand grips my waist, and he pulls back from me to look me in the eyes.

"Is this what you want?" He asks carefully, his piercing silver gaze searching for hidden answers in my irises.

"Yes." I breathe out, nodding quickly. "I want this. I want you."

He groans and captures my lips in another kiss, fierce and powerful. He shifts me so I'm on my back on the bed and he's above me, tracing kisses from my mouth down to my neck. My fingers knot themselves through his blond strands, keeping him against me.

I squirm underneath him as he lifts the skirt of my dress up and traces the edges of my panties with his fingers, teasing me and causing my hips to jut up in want. He chuckles into my neck and I can feel his grin against my skin.

One of his hands presses against the lower part of my back to make me arch as the other hand pulls the zipper of my dress down, eventually sliding the material off my torso and down my legs. He follows the action by unclasping my bra and throwing it to the side, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.