sparks~drarry

Initials

Description: Harry saves Draco from doing something reckless and dangerous. (Draco's POV)

Warning: Suicidal thoughts and behavior, possible triggers

Song: Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara

Length: 650 words
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Draco's POV

I dangle my legs from the edge of the astrology tower, my head inclined towards the wall.
With each set of letters I read, my sadness deepens.
RL+SB.
SF+DT.
PP+HG.
RW+LB.
CC+PP.
GW+LL.
JP+LE.
TR+BL.
BW+FD.
I yearn to add another set of letters to that wall, but I know that'll never happen.
HP+DM.
Is it that hard to ask for?
Yes, it is.
I turn away from the wall and back towards the night sky, swallowing thickly.
I inch forward slightly.
It would be so easy to just fall.
Wouldn't it?
I suppose.
To fall to the ground, limp as the wind beats you from all sides, as your heart eventually crumbles in on itself and fails-
My morbid thoughts are interrupted by footsteps coming up the astronomy tower.
Shit.
"Draco? I know you're there." Somebody calls, sounding desperate.
Harry Potter?
No.
I can't stand to see him now.
My heart beating erratically in my chest, I inch forward even more, craving to feel the wind on my skin....
But Harry grabs my shoulder.
I stiffen, and refuse to look at him.
"What do you want?" I hiss, and I can see him flinch out of the corner of my eye.
"I... On the Marauder's Map, I saw you here... On the edge."
"Oh." I respond, my voice small.
"Please don't jump. Please? Why would you even want to?"
At that, I laugh hoarsely.
"Because memories, Harry. Feelings."
"What sort of memories and feelings?"
"The war. Voldemort. Them."
I can hear him swallow when I say them.
"Them?" He asks timidly.
"Yes, them. With their bloody perfect hair and bloody perfect eyes and bloody perfect reputation. Why can't feelings be erased? Don't we live in a world of magic?"
"But... Who is them?"
"Isn't that obvious?" I snap, and inch forward.
His grip on my shoulder tightens.
"What?"
"I mean, come on. The way I look at them, for one. And the way I talk about them." I am on a roll, and I'm not about to stop. "Or, the way I think about them. Though, I suppose you can't really read my mind, can you? I'm not a snake. Or wait... I am." I was becoming hysterical. "It's not like they'll ever like me back, as they bloody despise me. Like, more than normal. This is actual hatred, okay? And not the type that turns around suddenly, or that harbors secret feelings."
"Please, calm down." He whispers, and I want to, so desperately... But I can't.
"I want to add our initials to the sets of letters on that wall." I continue, and point to the wall with the paired initials on them.
"Whose initials, though?"
"Why does it even matter so much to you?" I burst, and I could feel him getting uncomfortable.
Good.
Then he may go away.
"I... Uh..."
"No good answer? There you go."
"But-"
"It's as if you want the person I'm referring to you to be you."
At that, he doesn't respond, and I turn to look at him.
"Wait... You don't want it to be you, right?"
There's a moment of tense silence.
"Well... You see... Don't make fun of me or tell anyone, please." He stammers, and I can see the desperation blooming in his emerald green eyes.
Suddenly, my hand is on his cheek, and his eyes are as wide as the moon.
"Wha-"
"No." I interrupt. "I won't tell a word, if you don't."
And, at that moment, I cannot stop myself from pressing my lips to his.
He pulls me from the ledge and on top of him, slipping his fingers into my hair.
"Let's carve our initials," I gasp, whispering against his mouth. "into the stone."
"Yes." He responds, slipping a warm hand underneath my shirt. "Let's do."