Drarry One Shots

Tears

Revised: 8/2021
Tags/Warnings: Godric's Hallow, crying, spying, longing, angst
Summary: Harry speaks to his parents before searching after Bathilda Bagshot. Draco, waiting at Godric's Hallow specifically in case Harry shows, sees him.
Notes: A shorter sad one. This is probably as close I'll ever get to a drabble. I just have too much to say. Hope you guys enjoy :)

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A dark haired boy kneeled in a cemetery, tears falling slowly down his face. The cold winter air whipped around him, ruffling his hair and pushing his tears as they splattered onto the graves below him. "I'm sorry Mom, Dad," Harry whispered. Though Hermione was keeping a respectful distance, a hushed tone felt most appropriate. His voice cracked as he spoke, getting stuck in his throat. He coughed once to clear it. "I don't know if I'm going to win this war. And if I don't, you'll have died for nothing. So many people would have died for nothing," he sobbed, hugging himself tightly.

He saw Hermione out of the corner of his eye, shuffling her feet and looking further into the town. Harry knew they didn't have long, that it wasn't safe to stay in one place without protection. He had to wrap up what he hoped wouldn't be his last goodbye. He reached a hand out, touching the freezing, snow-covered headstones. He cleared away the snow covering the names of his parents, letting the cold numb his fingers.

"I'll go down fighting. I won't give up. I...I hope I'll see you, when this is over." Coughing through another sob, Harry stood on shaky knees. He walked back to Hermione, not bothering to wipe his face. She gave him a sad smile, hugging him lightly. The hug was nice, though he felt utterly hollow inside.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked him. He knew she wanted to give him more time, but being so exposed was making her skin itch in the same way it was making Harry's. He nodded.

"Let's find Bathilda Bagshot." Hermione took his arm, and they walked further into the town. Neither noticed the figure that had been concealed by a grove of trees, which had watched them for several minutes. That could have been fatal, supposed to have been fatal, even.

Draco Malfoy had been posted to Godric's Hallow to watch a few different places. The cemetery, the Potter's ruined house, and another house further into town, though he had no idea who was in it. He didn't dare to ask. His assignment had been to report movements of any one who stood against the Dark Lord, to kill most and capture some. He had been told to do whatever necessary to bring Potter in should he show. He knew he was risking his own life by standing there, hidden and unmoving. Unwilling to act.

He had been horrible to Harry in school, driven by jealousy, envy, and eventually teenage hormones. Longing and frustration and anger made him crave any kind of attention he could get from Harry, usually negative. But by the time he realized what he was feeling, that was all he knew how to get. He had hoped he would never have to come to this decision, sure that his own fear and self-preservation would move him to bring Harry to the Dark Lord.

But he was unable. Unwilling. He couldn't hurt Harry, not after everything. Not when they were on the same side, though he doubted Harry would ever believe that. He couldn't hurt him, when he would have done anything to be able to hold Harry in his arms.

He wasn't brave enough to actively help them, or to stand against the Dark Lord. But he was stupid enough not to follow them, to go against the Dark Lord's direct orders. He looked to the sky, closing his eyes. He spoke to Lily and James Potter.

"Please take care of him. I know you are, but...please. I don't deserve it but I couldn't stand to see him dead. I wish I had done so many things different, had not done so many things at all," he whispered. A memory flashed by, watching Dumbledore fall. Draco winced. That seemed like the catalyst of his life. Or had it been getting the Dark Mark? It was an equally painful memory which Draco tried not to linger on.

A tear slipped down his cheek, which Draco wiped away harshly. He listened intently to the silent town, wishing he could hear anything, even if it was just the sound of Harry and Granger appariting away. He wondered if he would survive his next encounter with the Dark Lord. He didn't always look into Draco's memories, but it was frequent enough to keep him on edge. Draco was dead if he did.

He hoped he wouldn't ever come to an instance where he could either save or doom Potter. Though he didn't want to die, he knew what he would choose, and it would most certainly lead to a painful death. Is this what love does to someone? Draco snorted. There was no point in asking those kinds of questions.

Draco hunkered down in the small shelter he had been using since being assigned to watch Godric's Hallow. He knew he would die one day. But he hoped it was far away, and he hoped he would have a chance to tell Harry how he felt and how sorry he was before it happened.