When the Snow Melts

Et tu?

Draco staggered forward, hands clutching his belly to keep his entrails from spilling out through a jagged wound across his gut. "Help me," he pleaded, collapsing into Harry's arms, blood slowly warming his chest as he held him.

"Please," he begged, clutching at Harry's robes, a desperate look in his eyes. "I don't want to die like this."

Harry's trembling legs gave out on him and he fell to his knees, Draco still in his arms.

"It's going to be okay," Harry whispered as he lovingly brushed blond hair out of the boy's eyes, leaving an angry streak of crimson across his pale face.

"I'm not ready to die," Draco pleaded weakly, breathing shallow and labored. "Please don't let me die."

Harry choked back the sob that was struggling to escape, trying to keep a brave face. "I won't," he promised, picking up the boy's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. Draco let out a relieved sigh, his body relaxing, his chest settling into stillness. Harry clutched at Draco's lifeless body, tears streaming down his face as he screamed.

A hand on his shoulder forced him to glance up through blurry tears. Sirius was grinning madly down at him.

"Oh no," the man exclaimed in mock surprise. "Have you gone and got another one of your friends killed?"

Harry turned away, burying his face in Draco's hair, gasping as he sobbed. His heart felt like it was being squeezed, he couldn't breathe against the pain of it.

"You know how to stop this," Sirius taunted, his words tickling Harry's ear. He took a shuddering breath and nodded, never looking up. Bony fingers crept around his neck from behind. He didn't fight them.

He awoke with a gasp, tears refusing to stop.

<<<<<   >>>>>

"Meet me in the abandoned classroom at the end of the hall," Harry whispered in Draco's ear before walking out of the door at the end of class.

Draco followed a moment later, wondering why he had chosen that particular classroom. It was the one he had attacked Harry in several months ago. His stomach twisted itself up at the thought of going back there.

When he entered, Harry appeared anxious, eyes darting about nervously as Draco closed the door behind him. "I need you to make more," he requested in a rush without looking at him.

Draco's eyes widened in shock. "That should have lasted you a whole month," he exclaimed loudly.

Harry shifted nervously, studying his feet with a guilty expression. "I know," he admitted with a shudder. "The dreams... they're getting worse. I can't do this anymore. I just need some more... just enough until I can get over this... this thing I have going on with me."

He looked up at Draco, shadows dancing across his pleading eyes. Draco's breath caught in his throat at the sight of his desperate expression. He studied the boy in silence, weighing his options.

"No," he firmly replied after he had made up his mind. "I'm not going to help you kill yourself."

Harry's face morphed into an angry scowl. "Why the hell do you care? We're not friends, remember?"

Draco looked away, his stomach sinking at having his thoughtless words thrown back in his face. "I just..." Draco started, voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard and continued. "I just don't want to see you die, okay?"

He squirmed in discomfort as Harry continued to glare daggers at him.

"I'm dead anyway, so what does it matter?" he spat bitterly.