Drarry Oneshots 2

will we ever be what we once were?

--Prompt by dorkyginger --

It had been twenty-three days, six hours, and four minutes since Draco had killed himself.

Harry counted.

Every second was agony, every passing minute torture, every hour hell. His mind was flooded with memories of his boyfriend over and over.

Draco's face bursting into a smile when Harry defeated the dragon fourth year.

Draco hugging Harry tightly and telling him everything would be okay after Sirius died.

Draco begging him to forgive him for Dumbledore's death, before Harry reassured him and told him he knew Draco hadn't killed him.

Draco beaming when Harry finally killed Voldemort, running up to Harry and kissing him.

Draco's smile fading every time someone called him a Death Eater in the halls.

Draco crying when two sixth year Ravenclaws attacked him in a corridor and told him he didn't belong at Hogwarts.

Draco trying to carve his Dark Mark out of his arm with a thousand different spells.

Draco's suicide note, stating that he was going to kill himself and to not look for him.

Harry screaming when he found it, realizing Draco was nowhere to be found in the castle.

Harry hadn't known what to do with himself. Draco had been a constant in his life since he was eleven. Now, at age seventeen, he was just... gone.

Every day, Harry checked his map, praying for the name Draco Malfoy to be floating around.

It never was.

Harry stared at the ceiling, the world spinning around him.

He really couldn't give a shit about the world anymore. What had the world done for him? He had given everything to save it, and in return, he lost person after person.

His hand reached automatically, a habit over the past three weeks. He opened it, his eyes scanning over it before he stilled.

He checked it.

He checked it again.

But the name didn't go away.

Draco Malfoy was in the kitchens.

Harry threw his map to the side, rolling off his bed and racing out of the Gryffindor dorms. He ran until he reached the kitchens, throwing open the door.

"Draco," he whispered breathlessly.

The blonde turned around in shock, eyes wide. "Harry?"

"What are you- how are you-" Harry couldn't think. Draco was alive.

"I can't explain. Not now," Draco whispered.

"Draco, don't walk away from me. Draco!" Harry screamed, but Draco dashed off. Harry ran after him, but found nothing at the end of the corridor.

He had lost him.

Harry screamed.

********

He was sitting in Potions when it happened.

The note slipped under the door, fluttering onto Harry's desk. Confused, he opened it.

I still love you.

Overcome with anger, Harry burned it immediately. He had a feeling Draco would know he had.

The notes continued to come, in every single class, day after day.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

I had to.

I had no choice.

Please stop burning my notes.

Harry, I'm sorry.

You don't understand.

Please stop burning them.

I'm so sorry.

Harry burned note after note, fury building with each one.

Harry, please. I love you so much.

I'm so sorry.

You don't even know how sorry I am.

No one could know I was alive.

You don't understand what I was going through.

The last one Harry burned a little more viciously than he had the others. Ron jumped when his table caught on fire, but Harry just grabbed his things and stormed out of the classroom.

He checked his map briefly, before storming off towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Draco was on the floor, knees to his chest, crying. A dozen pieces of charred paper surrounded him.

Harry stormed forward.

"I don't understand what you were going through?" he shouted.

Draco looked up, face streaked with tears. "I was in pain."

"You know who else was in pain? Me! For the fucking three weeks I thought you were fucking dead!" Harry shouted.

Draco looked down. "No one could know that I wasn't."

"Fuck you, Draco! You could have fucking told me! I would have kept it a fucking secret! Draco, I thought the last person I had left was fucking dead! What is wrong with you?"

Draco stood up. "I was in pain!" he shouted. "I needed to get away!"

"Yeah, most people take a fucking vacation! They don't fake a suicide! And they certainly don't make their boyfriends think they're fucking gone! Forever! Do you even have any idea what that did to me?"

"This isn't about you!" Draco shouted back.

"Isn't about me!? You were my boyfriend!"

Draco took a step back, looking shocked. "Were?" he asked quietly.

"You faked your death, Draco, and didn't even fucking bother to mention that you were alive. Were you ever going to tell me? Yeah, it's were, because I can't keep doing this."

Draco froze. "Harry-" he started, but Harry cut him off.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," he muttered, before storming out the door.

**********************************

Harry stared out the window at the stars, fingers curled in his blankets. He wondered if him and Draco could ever be what they once were, or if life had torn them too far apart.

Across the castle in his own bedroom, Draco wondered the same.