The Boy who lived and The Boy who survived (Drarry)

Chapter 12: Broken

3 years ago. 6th Year. Hogwarts.

"Wow." was all Hermione could say after Harry had told him everything that happened with Draco. They have been talking for such a long time almost the whole castle had gone to sleep.

"What should I do, Hermione?" Harry sighed.

"Harry..." Hermione looked at him sadly before taking his hand. "In these situations, I usually know exactly what to say..."

Harry sighed and gave her a sad smile.

"But right now..." She sighed. "I don't know what to say at all..."

"Oh." Harry dropped his head. "Okay."

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "I'll think about it and we can talk tomorrow." She stood up and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "It's getting late. You should sleep." Hermione disappeared up to her room as Harry went back to his. Both friends parted ways knowing that this conversation wasn't over anytime soon.

...

Draco instantly laid face down onto the green silk bed the Room has conjured for him. He cried into the pillow, wetting it with his tears as his muffled sobs were blocked out by the fabric.

He had never felt so lonely before in his whole life. He cried and cried and cried like never before. His father didn't love him. His mother was trapped back in the Manor. Snape was cold and distant. Pansy would keep pestering him with questions. Blaise didn't know how to talk about these things. Crabbe and Goyle are too stupid to even understand anything. And Harry...

Draco sat up from his bed.

Harry... Harry was the only one who understands him, the only one who wouldn't ask or push him into answering anything. Harry was the only one who held him and soothed him, Harry was the only one who let him cry. Harry was the only one who made him happy.

Draco collapsed back onto the pillow and another set of tears fell from him. He willed himself not to cry anymore, but he couldn't. What was he supposed to do now? He had to kill Dumbledore, but deep down... he knew he couldn't... he couldn't kill anyone. He regretted it now, he regretted not talking to Harry about this, he would've at least had some clue of what to do... maybe Harry was right... he needed to look for Dumbledore.

But now? That's not even a choice anymore. Going to Dumbledore would ensure the death of his family and himself. He wasn't on his right mind now. He didn't know what to do. He needed Harry. There was no point in denying it anymore. He was in love with him. His green eyes. His unruly black mop of hair. His cute smile. His round glasses. His scar. His bloody face. Everything! He needed Harry to be here and just hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay and-

"WHAT THE SHIT?"

Draco's head whipped up from the pillow as he backed further to the wall on his bed, his wand was drawn as he pointed to where the yell was coming from.

Standing there right in front of him, in baggy pyjamas, and those oh so familiar green eyes was none other than Harry Potter.

"Potter?" Draco said shakily, unaware his voice was hoarse from all the crying. He had no energy left to yell, and even though Harry seemingly popped out of nowhere, he was here. And that made Draco feel more relieved, even though he practically ignored him for the past few days.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't fucking know," Harry said angry and confused. "One second I was sleeping peacefully in my bed and then the next second, I was here. Where the fuck am I?" He looked around the room.

Draco's eyes widened as he realised what had happened. It was him who had summoned Harry here, it was called the Room of Requirement after all. It was him all along who teleported him here because he needed him and because he required him.