Healing

Authors Note: Many thanks go out to my beta Alexandra, who has been with me through this entire story. Technically this is the last chapter, but after this there is an epilogue, so in one more week this story will be finito. I am working on a companion series oneshot for it though, but that will come later as I'm a little buried with stories at the moment.

Chapter 13 The Final Scar

Draco walked the darkened streets of London for what seemed like hours, following paths he had traversed many times before, and even venturing down unfamiliar alleyways and boulevards.

His arms wrapped tightly around his body, as if for warmth, but really it was for comfort. He had fallen so deep and so hard that nothing would ever be the same again. Harry pulled on his heartstrings and tied them into knots like no one had ever done before. He felt like a powerless puppet, dangling freely as the puppet master smirked and taunted his affections.

There was no way to deny that he was madly and irrevocably in love with Harry. Harry bloody Potter, Gryffindor’s golden boy and savior of the world. It was comical… Draco, a former Death Eater, was infatuated with someone of Harry’s caliber.

This mess was his own fault, though. He courted fate, laughed in its face and said yes to Harry far too many times. If he had only stayed firm and kept his distance, if Harry had only been less desirable or maybe less needy. If he had possessed less perfect eyes…

Draco shook his head and looked up at the street corner. Somehow he had made it all the way to Russell Square. He could either take the Tube to Ravenscourt Park, or apparate there directly. He looked around and reveled in the vacant streets, deciding another long walk might be just what he needed instead of either of the quicker options.

He missed Harry already. Part of him, and if he were honest with himself he would realize it was a very large part, had wanted Harry to ask him to stay. He had wanted to be able to curl up and sleep, just once, in Harry’s embrace.

But Harry’s response had been expected, and far more logical. He wondered how long it would be before he read about Harry in the news, hand in hand with some lucky and completely undeserving bloke.

It made him cringe with anger and jealousy just thinking about it.

He was almost back to his building when his phone chirped and he rummaged in his pocket for it. The tiny blue screen said it was Lexi, and he debated ignoring the call and stuffing it back into his pocket, but Lexi rarely called this late without good reason.

“This had better be good,” he answered, making it clear he was in no mood for idle chat.

“Can you explain why Harry just called me?” she replied curtly.

“I wish I could. What did he say?” Draco asked. He had no idea why Harry would call Lexi in the middle of the night, especially after what had happened between them.

“He prattled on for a minute or two about you and his regrets for the way things worked out. He said you left him… but I must be confused because I could have sworn you told me that he left you,” she mused.

“He did, and then he contacted me tonight, and I went over to his flat, and… well, he basically said he didn’t want to see me again, so I left,” Draco replied, trying to contain his tears and pain.

“He asked you over to tell you to leave, Draco that makes no sense,” she said.

“Not exactly,” Draco replied.

“What aren’t you telling me here?” she demanded. Draco took a deep breath and spilled the whole story to Lexi.

“So, you and Harry made love, then he told you to leave, and then he called me to cry about it?” she replied when Draco finished his story. “There is still something you’re leaving out. What exactly did Harry say?”

Draco thought back, trying to remember the brief conversation that transpired. “I just reminded him of what he said before, that I wouldn’t ever see him again, and he agreed, telling me that was the agreement,” Draco said, trying to be as accurate as possible. Something in Lexi’s tone worried him.

“How did he look when he said that?” she asked.

Draco shrugged despite the fact Lexi couldn’t see him. “I don’t know. Sad maybe, but that’s probably just wishful thinking on my part.”

“Is there even the slightest possibility that he only said that because you prompted him to? Your reminding him may have sounded to Harry like you wanted him to leave you alone,” she said gently, and that worried Draco even more. Lexi was not generally a person one would describe as gentle.

“What are you getting at, Lexi?” Draco asked.

He could hear her delayed breathing and a long pause before she spoke. “Draco, he sounded heartbroken, and he told me good bye. He thanked me for trying to help him, and told me to take care of you. Draco, I think you misunderstood things, and I think Harry’s going to do something stupid,” she said at last.

A shiver ran down Draco’s spine and he shook his head. He tried to calculate the date and couldn’t concentrate well enough. “What’s the date today?” he asked quickly as he rode the lift up to his flat.

“It’s May second,” she replied. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Draco broke into a run to get into his flat. “It’s the anniversary of the end of the war. Don’t you ever bother reading the Profit?” he shouted.

“You know I can’t stand that rubbish, and anyhow, what does that have to do with Harry flipping out-“ she began, and paused briefly. “Shit. His scars, right? He’s going to kill himself isn’t he?” she choked out.

“He’s going to try, but I won’t let him succeed,” Draco shouted, angry with himself, angry with Harry, and furious with the world that made them this way.

Harry’s owl was sitting on his windowsill when he opened the door. “I have to go,” he said quickly and dropped the phone back into his pocket, walking briskly over to the bird and letting it in.

It swooped down aggressively at Draco and stayed just out of reach for a moment or two. “Get down here you ruddy bird,” Draco shouted.

Finally it landed on a chair and allowed Draco to remove the bulky scroll. Draco read through it quickly, ignoring the bird’s exit. A thick sob choked him as he read the parchment over again.

My Dearest Draco,

I don’t know how to begin this any other way then to tell you I love you. I think I may have loved you since the beginning, but I’m certain at least that I love you now. You can’t begin to know how grateful I am to you for every attempt you’ve made to save me.

I know you’ll think I’m ignorant and weak for what I’m going to do, but I need it. I need it almost as much as I need you. I thought you were my twin soul, but I found myself once again mistaken, and I can’t bear to think of another year going by without you.

None of this is your fault, and you must believe that. I would have done it even if I hadn’t met you again, but I suppose you know that from your many sessions of analyzing me. Please don’t lay an ounce of guilt on yourself though. I couldn’t stand it if I thought you were ill over me, and my constant issues.

I love you, Draco. I know you’ll find someone who will make you as happy as you made me.

Yours in life or death,

Harry James Potter

Draco crushed the note and threw it violently in the corner as he made his way to the fireplace. He took a deep breath, shouted Harry’s address and was gone in a flash of green light.

--

When he arrived in Harry’s flat, everything was dark and silent.

Like the dead.

Draco shook his head at his own morbid thoughts. He was here to save Harry, not to mourn him. He quickly searched the downstairs and found it empty, so he went upstairs. At first glance the bedroom seemed empty too, but a thin beam of light from the bathroom showed what Draco had mistaken for a lump of bed linens, to actually be a crumpled body.

He swallowed thickly as he moved closer. “Harry,” he shouted, but the body didn’t move and didn’t react. He shook his head again. “Stop thinking of him as a body. It’s Harry, it’s my Harry,” he chastised himself.

He leaned down and pulled Harry’s face up to meet his own. “Harry,” he shouted into his vacant stare, but there was still no response. He looked down to find blood seeping into his pants, and paled.

Blood, so much blood. A person couldn’t lose this much blood and live, could they? If anyone could it was Harry fucking Potter.

He pulled Harry into his lap and shook him, unaware of the tears that streaked violent wet lines down his face. He quivered with grief, and ran his wand over and over Harry’s body with every healing spell he could think of, but nothing seemed to have an effect on him.

He pressed a kiss against Harry’s forehead. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m so, so sorry,” he sobbed. Draco pulled him closer, rocking and groaning his grief into the air. “Fuck, Harry. Please don’t leave me. Please, I love you so much.”

He tore one last kiss from Harry’s lips and reached into his pocket for his phone. He dialed Lexi’s number and she picked up at once. “St. Mungo’s,” he blurted.

“I’m already there,” she replied. “You can apparate him straight into the lobby,” she added.

“It’s too late,” he cried. “I was too late.”

“Draco, just bring him here. You can’t know, these healers can do amazing things,” she shouted at him. “Get him here now, Draco.”

“He’s so cold,” Draco mumbled. “There’s so much blood,” he sobbed, before apparating Harry into the St. Mungo’s lobby.

“Shit,” Lexi called over his shoulder when she saw Harry’s pale and blood soaked form in Draco’s arms. “Oh, Merlin Draco. I’m so sorry,” she rasped, pulling him into a tight hug, as witches and wizards carried Harry’s body away. Draco screamed with fury and sorrow into her shoulder and she gently stroked his blood caked hair, trying to calm him. But she had a feeling he was inconsolable and would be for a very long time.

There was no possible way Harry was alive, and as Draco slumped against her she could feel him slowly dying as well.

Authors Note: Damn.