My Sweet Prince

My Sweet Prince


AUTHOR’S NOTE: Inspired by the Placebo song, My Sweet Prince (album: without you I’m nothing) which just seemed to fit Harry and Draco so perfectly. If you can get hold of the song then I advise you do as it explains the atmosphere.
WARNING: Character death. It is a sweet but dark story…read on at your peril.
DISCLIMER: Don't own Harry Potter, or the song...am shamelessly borrowing them both...sozzles.

Harry stood facing Voldemort.

He was hurt and bleeding and exhausted.

The deatheaters he had faced were all dead. He had fought his way through them to this. Voldemort standing alone in a dark, stone room, waiting for him.

Voldemort smirked and opened his mouth…but Harry didn’t want to hear it, or anything he had to say. He just wanted it to be over.

He used to have a problem with what he was about to do. He had not wanted to become a murderer, not any more though. He had changed.

He raised his wand. Said the words. And watched as bright green light shot out.

* * *

Never thought you’d make me perspire
Never thought I’d do you the same
Never thought I’d fill with desire
Never though I’d feel so ashamed
Me, and the Dragon can chase all the pain away
So before I end my day, remember

* * *

It was funny. He was standing here facing this man, the man that had killed his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore and so many others, but all he could think about was Draco.

It seemed like all he could ever think about was Draco. He stood in his head, pulsing like a beacon. The only thing. The one thing that was the most confusing, the most hurtful and yet the most…there were not words. He had become the centre of Harry’s world and that was it.

Harry had forgiven him at the end of sixth year. Had finally understood the other’s pain, why he had cried in the bathroom. He hadn’t killed Dumbledore, he was unable to.

When he had found him again in the deepest cellar of Malfoy Manor, cut and shaking from the torture inflicted on him by those he had found he was unable to serve, something in Harry had broken.

He had leant over him. The roaring in his ears dying away. Hesitantly he held out a hand and touched the warm pale skin.

The look in those silver eyes as they looked up to him had seemed to still the world. There was such pain and relief, uncertainty and something else, something which was just for Harry, an emotion which echoed his own.

He had carried him in his arms then, heavy warmth almost overcoming him when Draco’s arm had snaked around his neck.

Draco had lain for a week at Grimmauld place, unconscious and healing. Harry the one tending him. Again when those silvery eyes had opened they had shot through him with a clarity and depth that left Harry reeling. They hadn’t spoken. Draco had just reached out and taken his hand. Lightly squeezing it.

They didn’t talk at all in that first week. Both too shell shocked at the horror of the war. Then Harry had heard him screaming in the night, the sound a knife cut in the stillness of the house.

He had gone to him then. Woken him gently. Calmed him. Held him. There had been a pause as they looked into each other, breathing stopped, hearts suspended. Then he had kissed him, with a gentleness and a certainty that had melted the other boy to him.

In the middle of the war they had held each other. Making love with a desperation and need that spiralled as their passion did.

Alone in his room the next day Harry could have shot himself. He was betraying Ginny, his friends, possibly even a part of himself. The darkness that the relationship opened up scared him.

But as his eyes once again met Draco’s he knew he was lost. The war, the suffering, the pain – all went, leaving a clarity and a stillness that seemed to fill him.

Their mouths had met again, and they made love again, watching as the world fell away.

* * *

Voldemorts red eyes gleamed in the gloomy light, surprise evident in his face.

Harry’s light seemed to slow as he watched the other’s wand rise and heard an echo of the words he had just spoken.

Then a look of triumph and a slight smile as another shot of green light pushed through the air towards him.

* * *

Never thought I’d get any higher
Never thought you’d fuck with my brain
Never thought all this could expire
Never thought you go break the chain
Me and you baby used to flush all the pain away
So before I end my day, remember

* * *

Others had come then, asking questions, disturbing the peace, forcing them to talk.

The words that had come pouring out of the Draco’s mouth had hurt Harry, fizzing inside him like a sun of pain. Telling him he hated him. Telling him to stay away. Harry had understood, holding him until he cried out his grief. The changes and the pain too much for him.

He had tried to escape from the manor, had tried to go back. Back to what now seemed a miraculous time when school and Quidditch alone had filled the universe. He had wanted nothing more to do with Voldemort, nothing to do with his family. He had runaway, had been caught, had been questioned and had been tortured. He had then been saved.

But the misery of having to be saved from your own family, your own father. Draco had said that it ate at him, his grey eyes shining with tears, and Harry’s heart had filled with sympathy.

Harry had nodded, understanding. Talking to Draco. Telling him about watching Dumbledore and Draco on the roof. Telling him about using crucio and finally killing Belatrix. How he would do the same to Snape, but knowing even as he did it that the act repulsed him and that he would hate himself for it.

Draco had been surprised, he had been consoling. Had kissed him passionately, almost wildly. Gouging his back and biting down hard into his shoulder when he came. Together they regretted their actions, wishing that they had never been necessary, that life could always be as simple as when they laid in each other’s arms.

* * *

Harry watched, numbed, as his curse smacked into Voldemort.

The force picked him up and slammed him into the rock wall behind him. The room shook.

Voldemort’s body was broken. His horcruxes destroyed. He was dead. His pulverized body glooping downwards towards the ground.

There was a moment of joy, like a first fresh breeze in a room locked for uncounted years. The others were avenged. His friends could live, safe and happily. But him…?

Then Harry saw the other green light, the other curse move towards him. He had a moment if he was going to dodge it.

The fresh breeze died suddenly, despair flooding back.

* * *

Never thought I’d have to retire
Never thought I’d have to abstain
Never thought all this could backfire
Close up the hole in my vein
Me and my valuable friend can fix all the pain away
So before I end my day, remember

* * *

They had had only a month together. One glorious month. The sweetness and sourness of his lover a constant remembrance of life’s energy and vitality. They found they had each other to live for. Each astounding the other a hundred times a day as they grew together. Learning and pleasing each other. Everything had seemed new. They had lived in a globe of life, with both its pleasure and pain, but it had been real and vital in a way that no other parts of their lives had been. A month of happiness, surrounding and protecting each other from the harsh, cruel war raging around them.

Then the worst had happened. The ministry was overrun. The minister and other leaders killed. It had seemed like the end. Every available witch and wizard had gone and had fought. Hundreds had died on both sides. But in the middle of the raging battle Harry had found Snape and Draco had found Lucius.

In his rage Draco had quickly defeated Lucius. He was bound and his wand removed. Draco had then started to use the same spells on his father that his father had used on him. It was in his nature, in his breading, an eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth. But Harry had shouted for him to stop, and stop he had in spite of everything.

And Harry had held him then, kissing him passionately in the middle of the battle, surrounded by people fighting for their lives. It had been to Harry and Draco a single pure note in an opera of pain and chaos. The last moment of bliss.

Snape stopped them, stepping forward, arms out. But Harry had not cared. He hit him with a powerful curse, one that caused sleep, then a coma, then death. Snape had smiled when he was hit, satisfaction evident in his face. In his last moments he had told them Voldemort’s hideout.

Draco had clung to him then. But the battle made it impossible. They had been gradually separated as fighting deatheaters and wizards had pushed between them. Every so often Harry would see a flash of silver blond. Relief and pride would fill him and he would continue to fight.

The death eaters were gradually over run, the last eleven desperately scrabbling to escape. Seven activated portkeys and vanished. The last four fought to the death.

It was one of the very last curses that did it.

A cry of “Sectumsempra” and Harry watched horror and dread filling him as Draco fell, silver blond hair, pure pale skin and masses of red blood.

Harry had rushed towards him shocked numbness filling him. His mind flashing back to another time. But this was worse, the cuts deeper, the bleeding more profuse.

As soon as Draco’s grey eyes had fixed on him he saw a smile fill his lovers face. In that moment he was so beautiful and precious that all the emotions in Harry’s heart seemed to fill him. Again that note had sounded, but this time more subdued, elegiac.

As he had before, the first time they had touched, he reached out and clasped Harry’s hand. He had pulled it to his lips and kissed it, drawing Harry lower so he could speak.

His other hand had come up to Harry’s face clasping his jaw and cheek. They had kissed, Draco’s eyes going heavy.

Then he had whispered it. “Remember.” And smiled. Falling away from Harry.

* * *

My sweet prince, you are the one.
You are the one

* * *

Harry stood and watched as the bright green bolt of light moved towards him.

That had been four months ago, and still it filled him with emotions he could not bear to feel. But still it stood out in his memory, as a vivid pulsation of colour does in a black and white film. That one memory contained everything, perfect in its flawed humanity.

The light moved closer.

Harry stood completely still, just waiting. Thinking about how Draco looked when he slept, how his voice resonated in his chest when Harry lay on him, how he had smiled one last time.

A moment before it hit he felt surrounded by memories of Draco. He drowned in him, in a wild submergence of soul as green light took him.

My sweet price, you are the one.

Fin

*********

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