Music of the Heart

~Chapter 8 - Endings and beginnings ~

Malfoy sinks to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. "No...I was too late..this was my fault..it's my fault.." Draco whispers to himself, griefstricken. He sits there dazed, when a shimmer twinkles at his left. Through teary eyes he sees a dragon in a chain, a dragon bearing his name. Emerald eyes on the owner, black ragged hair, and ice. Ice in the stare of Harry. "You...you're not dead?" Harry looks at Malfoy, arching his eyebrow in perfect imitation of the usual chill of the Malfoy. "Sorry to disappoint you. I was just discharged, I came back for my jacket." Draco looked at Madam Pomfreys back, leaving them alone by going into her office. "They made me think you were..that you were dying." Harrys glare was still frosty, but there was something else.. "I was,in a way. But then I decided, why would I die, just because of you?You're not worth that. You're worth less than the muck on my shoes, I don't know why I ever fancied you.!" Harry lashes out, but not very believable, as the tears on his face shows he's still hurting, still in pain, still filled with longing.
Malfoy extends a hand, grabs Harry's, pulls him close, and kisses him. Harry lets go, pulls away. "What do you want from me,Malfoy? A plaything?A fuckfriend? What do you want?" The pain and sudden distrust hurts Draco more than he wants to show. "No, I..no.Not plaything, Pot..Harry." Dracos grave expression seems unlikely to Harry, but it ignites a hope. Draco looks at him, pleading. "Follow me." And Harry, rage and fury swept away, follows, as he would follow those silvery eyes to the end of the world.

They sit at their place, the meadow, in the night. It is chilly, and they sit close. "I want you more than this, Draco. I want all of you. Including your heart. " Potter's voice filling him up, making him long, making him want, making him need. Malfoys don't need. "I don't know if I have a heart to give, Potter." A long glance tells him Potter is in heavy concentration not to cry. He lies down, his arms under his neck. "In case you didn't notice, Potter, I'm a cold person. I don't show affection. Or.. " He hesitated, as if doubting he could even pronounce the word "..Love." Harry looked at him. "But I can. And I do. And you're not that cold, I know it!" Malfoy gave him a smile filled with hopelessness, of halfway-to-surrender, of sorrow. Harry leaned over him, looking him straight into his eyes, and kissed him. Softly, merely placing his lips a second on Dracos lips, cheeks, temples. When it was allowed, Harry pulled him close, kissing him hungrily, forcing him to feel the need, the want, the love.
Draco feels it, and he's scared. It numbs him, to love. He knows now that's what it is. He never knew it, he had never felt the love of someone, the feeling was overwhelming, scary. But he couldn't, he wouldn't let it slip away. The feeling he'd had when he thought Harry was dead, the sheer loss, the grief, the fear, was worse.
This was frightening too, the feeling of hysteria when he considered the fact that Harry was being chased by DeathEaters, by Tom Riddle, that he would have to leave his family, his wealth, his life behind, if he were to follow him.. And what choice did he have, how could he not follow him?

They lie there, the moonlight penetrates the night, and they do not speak. The silence of the night speaks for itself. They are holding hands, bracing themselves for the storm they know is coming. For the change they have no choice but to embrace.

They wait for the morning, for the storm.
They don't go back before they know the Great Hall is filled up with students, teachers and owls.

Then there will be a storm, then things will change.
They wait, in fear, in love.
In pain.

They turn the page.

-fin


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A/N sorry it took so long to upload. I wasn't sure whether to carry on with the story, or end it.. Hope you enjoyed it.