A Beautiful Beginning

*Chapter Two*

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"Draco, please don't go."
Draco whirled around and saw, to his dismay, a wild shock of inky black hair perched atop the head of a slender boy with captivating emerald eyes. His thick locks brushed gently over his forehead, partially concealing the lightning bolt scar that rested there. At the moment, the boy was staring right at Draco with tears in his eyes and shock clearly written across his delicate features.
There stood Harry Potter, his nemesis from the beginning, begging him, Draco Malfoy, a worthless Death Eater, not to leave. Not to die. To stay. A couple of years, hell, a couple of months ago, Draco would have thought it impossible for the Gryffindor Golden Boy, the one he'd bullied for years, to stare him in the eyes and tell him to live.
The pale blonde boy allowed himself to get lost in Harry's eyes, just for a moment– one wide-eyed, breathless moment– in a way he never had before. The time drew out longer and longer, neither one blinking, as Draco let his eyes linger longingly on the deep green orbs of the boy he loved.
He had glanced at the other boy, glared, and even stared at him, but he had never looked at him in this way, the way he had so desperately wanted to, with slow eyes roaming over his chiseled features, exploring every stunning detail. He had always been too afraid of being caught to examine his beauty in this way. He didn't worry now though. This would be his last chance to look at the boy he had loved for as long as he could remember. His last chance not only to look, but to finally truly see him.
At last he was done. With every line, shape, and shadow of Harry's face burned into his mind's eye, Draco steeled his resolve and turned around, closing his eyes. Just before he jumped, he looked back one last time. He felt like he owed the other boy and explanation, a reason, something. However, when he opened his mouth, only two small, quiet, broken words escaped, carried from his scratchy throat on the cool night breeze. "I'm sorry."
With that, he faced forwards once more and stepped into the open air.

***
"Draco, please don't go."
The thin silhouetted figure in front of Harry turned quickly, a look of astonishment contorting his delicate features. Cold steel met glittering emerald as their eyes locked and time seemed to slow around them, Draco's penetrating gaze fixing in on him. The pale boy seemed to be searching his eyes, staring deeply, as though Harry's eyes contained the solution to all the woes of the universe.
Unfortunately, the moment passed, and Draco turned back around. He stood there, peering down, far down, to the jagged rocks below, and began moving forward. Harry held his breath, eyes wide in horror, rooted to the spot. He thought this was it. He thought this was the moment Draco would die.
But he didn't. He paused in his movements and looked over his shoulder, just for a minute, and croaked, in a shattered whisper, "I'm sorry."
It was a simple enough statement, at least by definition. A basic apology. A commonplace phrase, used everywhere, everyday, by everyone– and yet, Draco had managed to put so much weight behind such small words that Harry stumbled backwards slightly, as though from some impact. It felt like Draco had taken his broken soul and packaged it nearly into those two words and hurled it at Harry, and next to Harry's, Draco's soul was undoubtedly one of the heaviest.
The raw grief and despair in that utterance was enough to awaken the raven-haired boy from his stupor, just in time to rush forwards and wrap his arms securely about the other boy's middle, yanking him back from the edge and causing them both to tumble to the floor, Harry still clutching Draco's small frame in his arms.
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