Love Will Save You If You Let It

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Harry James Potter was feeling pretty decent, for a change. He was alone, a new occurrence (Ron and Hermione were back at the hotel, shagging away), he had found the last Horcrux, and had destroyed it (along with a fairly large, and painful, graft of his forehead), Voldemort was dead, and he was far enough away from Hogwarts that no one was recognizing him.

He lifted a hand to his forehead, feeling the thin scar that had sealed his skin (thanks in large part to Ron's amazing predilection for healing spells). No longer did he bear a lightning bolt (the last, and final Horcrux). The skin had healed and left only a small scar, in the shape of a crescent moon. As before, he wore his hair perpetually shaggy, so it was covered either way.

Ron. He'd been amazing, doing his part, certainly. For the last year since Harry had brought the "Dark Lord" to his knees, Ron had taken the amazing power he had for healing, and turned it into a career. And, due in large part to the confidence this had awoken in him, he had asked Hermione to be his wife. To which she had agreed (finally!), but only if the wedding would include all of the house elves from Hogwarts, and every human coming had to B.Y.O.E. as a guest, and not as a servant. Ron had instantly agreed, joking, "All right, that's good. So we're getting married with just Harry there, then?"

Hermione had haughtily replied, "I would be absolutely fine with that, Ronald."

The red head had smiled, "So would I. As long as I'm marrying you, nothing else would matter."

"Oh, Ronald..."

Well, quite obviously, they were rather happy together. It was wonderful to see.

He sat down on the ivory beach, staring off into the ocean. The sun was almost completely set, and the sky was turning dusky. It was amazing.

Thinking about the night Voldemort had died was difficult. Harry had finally been standing right across from the bastard. But he hadn't been alone. Standing on either side of the dark wizard were both Malfoys: father and son. Harry had been unable to stop from meeting Draco's eyes. And he heard the voice in his head...Dumbledore's voice, telling him back in his first year of Hogwarts, that it had been love that had saved him from Voldemort. It had been love that had saved him again and again. And while he wasn't sure if Draco would believe him, but he had to say it just once, if for nothing more than to save his own soul from eternal torment.

He had smiled, just a bit, and saw the handsome young blonde's silvery eyes widen in surprise. "Draco," he said, his voice strong and clear, "I know you won't understand this, the why or the how, but if I'm to die tonight...I want to leave this earth knowing that I've told you the truth." Draco's face was worried, and it stirred Harry to continue, "Whether you believe this or not, I'm just happy to have it out there, and not ripping away at my gut...I'm in love with you. Something in you has always held me."

"You are pathetic, Potter! Do you honestly think my son would fall for that utter nonsense?" Lucius Malfoy spat, sneering at Harry from his chuckling 'master's' side.

"It doesn't really matter if he thinks it to be a lie. I've said what I needed to say, and now I'm ready." His eyes became hard, emerald steel, his mouth an angry line. "I will defeat you, you disgusting murderer." And he took his wand and muttered a spell under his breath, smiling even as blood began to trickle down his forehead, and then his cheek, bloody tears.

"NO!" Voldemort had roared, "Lucius, kill him NOW!"

Lucius Malfoy hadn't even a chance to raise his wand. Draco had uttered the Imperius Curse, and forced his father to drink the Draught Of Living Death, which he had pulled from an inside pocket in his cloak. Lucius had fallen almost immediately, his face peaceful, next to the writhing Voldemort.

"Fool! You turn on me, your Master, and trap your father in an endless sleep, for what? For that filth there? You disgust me." Voldemort had raised his wand to Draco's face, and in that same instant Draco met Harry's eyes over the twisted creature's shoulder, and watched Harry swing something. Voldemort had fell to his knees, and then onto his side before his disconnected head had finally fell away. Draco looked in awe, and Harry tried to smile, whilst turning the blade to where the mark of Godric Gryffindor lay, gleaming.

"Draco, I didn't say that, any of it, for this purpose."

Draco had then walked forward, tears streaming down his aristocratic face as he threw down his wand, eyes locked on his father's comatose form. "I know that, Harry." He turned, locking his eyes with Harry's. He leaned forward, and grasped Harry's arms. He sealed his mouth to Harry's, and with a hissing breath, he poured everything he felt into that kiss. When they finally parted, gasping for breath, he whispered, against Harry's lips, "I could never have fallen in love with anyone but you."

Harry felt his heart tearing itself to bits as Draco turned and began walking resolutely away. "Draco, don't you want to know how I did it? Surely there were protection barriers all over him..."

The blonde man paused, his voice choked and raspy and low, "How, then?"

"When I was a baby, no one could understand how I survived. But Dumbledore knew. Voldemort was defeated by the one emotion he appeared to have lacked: love. My mother's love protected me then, and my love for you is what defended me now; it is true and unconditional, and it allowed me the strength to cut through every obstacle necessary." He paused, taking a deep rasping breath, "Draco, I'll never stop."

"Neither will I," Draco's voice had been choked, and unsteady. And then, he apparated away, and Harry stood only for a moment looking at the bodies; he then held out his hands and stowed away what accioed into them. The slender brunette pointed his wand, and with a swish and a flick, he incinerated Voldemort's body. He had walked over to Lucius Malfoy's still form, and hefted it into his arms, before apparating them both to St. Mungo's.

After he had settled Mr. Malfoy into a room, with proper care, he went out front to the large crowd that was there waiting for him. He then stood there, bleeding still, meeting Hermione and Ron's relieved, happy faces. Harry had lifted Voldemort's wand into the air, and there had been a great gasp from the crowd in whole. "Voldemort-" he shook his head slightly at the worried murmuring, "is not a name to torment anyone anymore." He grasped both ends of the wand, and with every bit of strength he had left, he broke the wand in two. There was stunned silence. "He is dead. And I didn't do it alone, I couldn't have. Whatever is to come, and we all know there is to be much celebrating and happy times, and reflection...think of Draco Malfoy. He paid dearly tonight, to save my life, to do the right thing, and I know I will always remember him, and keep him close in my thoughts. I thank him." The crowd had erupted into cheers, and Harry had managed one last smile before the world spun dark around him. When he had finally awoken, it had been to Ron's grinning face, telling him that he was healed, and the absolute favorite of every witch and wizard in their world, as was apparent by the thousands of cards, and the hundreds of flower arrangements, racing brooms, and other assorted gifts.. Oh yes, and Dobby had been by 16 times in the last hour.

Now...in the present, he realized that it had gotten quite dark, and he stood, brushing the sand from his legs. And when he straightened, he was looking into familiar silver eyes. He saw them in his dreams every night.

"What-"

"Hello, Harry."

Harry shivered, "Hello, Draco." His eyes could not look away from the other man's. It hurt, to be this close to him, and to not touch him.

"I know what you did." Draco said with a half-ass smirk, "You did what no one else could do. I am free, I know, because you gave me my freedom, in the guise of my 'death'."

A grin played over Harry's lips, "Well, I don't know about all of that. You know as well as I, that the Daily Prophet tends to-"

"I was there, that day at the hospital."

At this, Harry's face turned stone serious. "There?! No matter what I said, Draco, if they thought you were alive...you know that you might very well wind up in Azkaban! What were you thinking?"

"What was I thinking? You mean, at that moment?" Draco's voice took on a teasing note, "I was thinking how bloody beautiful you were, even though you were about to pass out from blood loss."

When Harry looked away, silent, his face tight with pain, Draco continued, "I know you took my father for help, and he didn't deserve it, but you did it anyway. You have my gratitude, Harry."

Harry winced, hardly able to bear it, "And you have my heart. I guess we're even."

Draco stepped back. "I know you believe that...that you love me. But, I know you're wrong. How could you? I've been absolutely vile to you. It's because of me that Dumbledore is dead. I've never...ever been anything but the creator of bad memories for you."

Laughing, now, Harry closed his eyes and let himself fall back into a sitting position in the sand, "Perhaps you're right, about everything. I don't care anymore. First, it was just lust, I thought, attraction. And I tried dealing with that. The way I felt after you got in my face, hateful, your eyes flashing like liquid mercury. You intoxicated me, bewitched me. Goodness knows, Hermione checked everything to make sure I wasn't under a spell or potion. She spent weeks in the library, obsessed, really. And Ron tried knocking me on the head with his cauldron." He chuckled softly, "I guess he thought he could 'knock some sense into me'. They meant well, and I understood, just as I understand your thoughts now. But, Draco, even they've come to realize that love can show up in both the easiest of places and the most unexpected."

"I don't-"

"Draco, did you not ever realize that normal people don't go at each other the way we did, without something underlying? Passion, Draco, a need to distance ourselves from something we never thought was possible. But, consider this, we're men now, men with nothing holding us back."

The tall, aristocratic man carefully lowered himself to sit next to the brunette, whose eyes flew open and met his own. For a second, he couldn't find the breath to speak, just looking at this man.

"Our world thinks I'm dead."

Harry reached into his sleeve with a smile, "Don't I know it." He pulled out his wand and another, as well. "You left this on the ground, and I know why you did, but surely you must know you've suffered more than enough, Draco. You can't keep doing this to yourself forever. Look around here, there's no Wizarding World here. I could easily, joyfully stay here with you."

The silver of Draco's stunning eyes narrowed into a thin line, as his pupil's dilated with passion. "I can't let you do that."

"Oh ho! Tell me what I can and cannot do, will you?"

Draco chuckled, and moved his hand up to touch Harry's face. His quiet laugh died, as he felt the trembling there, under Harry's skin. "What, Harry, what is it?"

Harry's face jerked, as he clenched his teeth to stop himself from weeping, "This, right here, what I'm feeling as you touch me...I haven't felt this alive in a year. It's as though the pain goes away, and all the dark, too. Everything that plagues me just fades away, and all I see is you. And I feel alive."

"Harry-" Draco whispered, and slid his hand behind Harry's neck, yanked hard until his mouth could land firmly to plunder and taste. Hands came up, and one, he felt, went around his waist and pulled his body closer to Harry's, until there was no space between them but thin silk and heated skin. The other hand flew up into his platinum hair, the fingers sliding through to play in the strands.

With the smooth, silky ease that was simply ingrained in his body, Draco stood up and held out his hand. Unable to stop the wide smile, he closed his hand around the brunette's that had grasped him without hesitation, and pulled Harry up, and into his waiting arms. They moved towards the ocean, laughing breathlessly as the warm water lapped at their feet.

Harry pulled away, holding up a finger saucily at Draco's arched brow. He reached down and began undoing the button at his waist. As the blonde's trembling fingers took over as he got to the zip, he raised his hands and began snapping off the buttons on the shirt covering up that milky skin he was aching to touch. When the last button has plopped into the water, he couldn't resist running his hands up that wonderfully formed chest. At the resultant growl, he grinned and slid his hands around Draco's waist, and down to the dip inside the waistband. His fingers were warm, and he massaged the taught muscles of that delicious arse.

Moaning openly, now, Draco stared into the most spectacular eyes he'd ever known in his lifetime. Those playful fingers on his backside were moving now, both of them sliding around to his front, the tips of those fingers still inside the band. When they met in the center, those fingers grasped firm hold of the hook hidden inside his black, tailored trousers and slid it open without complication. Pulling down the zip was an even easier maneuver, and then, with a smirk worthy of a Slytherin, Harry yanked down on Draco's pants. He stepped out of them, and watched as his brilliant, beautiful Harry stepped out of his own. They moved, together, deeper and deeper into the water until they were both quite a bit out in the inky water, up to their shoulders. Moving in complete sync, their mouths met, hot and lush and amazing. Their bodies slammed into one another, ripping content groans from both of them.

Panting, Harry let his head fall back as Draco set to work on his neck, teeth and tongue enflaming every nerve in his body. Harry was able to do little more than respond, and clutch desperately at his love; his brain was reeling, overcome with emotion and pure feeling, from everywhere. He heard a voice in his head, and lifted his head, trying to listen. He grinned and opened his eyes as he recognized the voice as Draco's...he was speaking, and smiling. He looked happy.

"Come back to me, Harry, love."

"I'll not be going anywhere, Draco. I- my gods, the way you make me feel. I've never-" Harry paused, and was astonished to see Draco's face twist in pain.

"What is it? Draco, tell me!"

"You've never-" He paused, taking a much needed deep breath, and tried (and failed) to will his erection down, just a little, so he could speak properly. "You've never been with a man before." He watched Harry's face clear from it's confusion and concern, and switch to mild amusement.

"Draco, I've never been with anyone, man or woman."

He'd never been more aroused before in his life, and gave up completely on attempting to calm down, "Why?" he muttered, his voice deep and thoroughly seductive.

"I just..." Harry bit his lip, chewing it lightly, "it wouldn't have been right. For me, or anyone else. I already knew that I couldn't feel for anyone else, the way I do for you. So..."

"So."

Harry lifted a dripping hand to Draco's astonishingly gorgeous face, and kissed him until they were both gasping hungry breaths. "So...this is right. I want to be with you, Draco. Please, make love with me."

Never stopping from their snogging explosion, the two men seemed to float to the water's edge. They bumped into a great many trees and shells, as they tripped and stumbled their way down the beach, only stopping to picks up their wands. They were naked, and soaking wet, and before he knew what was happening, Harry felt his back pressed up against the door of small cottage.

Draco lowered his mouth to Harry's dripping chest. He tasted the unique, addictive flavor lying under the salty ocean water. His hand fumbled down to his wand, and he muttered a spell, the words lovely and foreign. Falling into the room, Draco kept his love clutched firmly to his chest. How they managed to get to the large, four poster bed, neither men truly knew. As they fell onto the bed, however, Draco slid down the golden body laid out in from of him. Before a moment passed, Draco took Harry into his mouth, and felt (as much as heard) the moan that started deep in Harry's body and rolled out of him in waves. He heard Harry's desperate warning, and only continued more languidly. Never, not in a billion lifetimes, could he ever tire of this glorious wonder...this knowing that he was here, now, giving the man he loved, so much pleasure. He was the cause of this pure beauty. The rapture on that stunning face pulled a rumbling groan out of his throat.

The vibrations pushed Harry over the edge, and he looked down, his eyes wide, shocked, very nearly mad with ecstasy. He could have sworn a glow surrounded the two of them, and he was unable to stop the delighted smile that washed over his face. The clever-lipped blonde lapped his way up to Harry's mouth, sharing the taste there.

He sucked Harry's tongue into his mouth, every movement an impulse. Driven with love and need, he whispered into Harry's swollen mouth, "Harry," his tongue slid down his throat, "my love," and up and over to torture his ear, "I want, I need...I need to be inside you."

Harry's face was aching from the smiling, and it felt better than anything. He pushed a noisy kiss onto Draco's restless lips, and then pushed the lithe body off of him slightly. At Draco's concerned look, he chuckled softly, and then rolled over onto his stomach. Raising up onto his elbows, he turned his head to look into those passionate, molten silver eyes.

"I'm yours, Draco."

The blonde man sat on his knees, poised over the glistening, gold back, smattered here and there with adorable freckles. Muttering a simple lubrication spell, he eased his hand down to Harry's scrumptious bottom. He slid one finger in, crooking it slightly, delighting in Harry's erotic little whimpers. He took his time, preparing the shuddering man beneath him, and when he pulled out to grab a pillow to put beneath Harry's hips, the slightly smaller man arched up into him, his black hair sliding silkily over the nape of his neck. He pressed a kiss there before slipping inside of him, fighting his own body to remain still, and allow Harry time to adjust.

"Gods, Draco! So full...so perfect. Move, love, don't hold anything back from me..."

Harry's name was ripped from Draco's mouth over and over again in throaty yells, as he drove himself into Harry, harder and faster and deeper. One of his graceful hands walked up Harry's outstretched arm to tangle his fingers with his lover's. He felt the brunette stiffen beneath him, hear the strangled scream pushed into the glossy pillow, and was thrown over the edge into brutal perfection as the clutching tightness and heat drew the longest, most intense orgasm out of him.

"Harry, Harry, my gods..." he murmured, pulling out gently, and laying beside him. A lazy smile felt quite natural as Harry cuddled into him, laying his silky head on his chest.

Harry let his fingers play on Draco's chest, just touching and reassuring. "I do love you...so bloody much."

Sliding smoothly away, and turning so he and Harry lay on their sides, facing each other. His hand reached up to clasp his love's, and he smiled into those spectacular emerald eyes. "I assure you the feeling is quite mutual."

"I know." Harry said, his glorious eyes filling with tears, "That's the best part, Draco. Knowing that you love me, feeling it..."

"I know."

They both wrapped up in one another's arms, feeling perfectly happy and perfectly safe for the first time in both of their lives, and fell into a deep, restful sleep. Their faces were alit with smiles, and with the beautiful golden glow that surrounded them.

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Harry awoke the next morning, wonderfully content, and deliciously sore. He raised his arms above his head, stretching, and as his arms brushed past his face, he balled his fists and rubbed his sleep-blurred eyes. When he finally opened them, he looked at the empty spot beside him, his heart thudded hard, skipping a beat. Even without perfect vision, he could see that he was alone...again.

He sat up in bed and pulled his knees to under his chin. Sitting there, perhaps for hours, he rocked and cried, the loss more painful now, than ever before. He knew why Draco had left. If the Wizarding World found out Draco was alive, chances are Harry would be faced with an Inquiry at the Ministry of Magic, at the least. Harry knew, he just knew, that Draco wanted him safe, unharmed. Just as he knew that while this might have been the first time he'd seen his (now!) lover in a year, it was not the first time Draco had seen him. When he finally stood, he went into the bathroom to shower. As the hot water ran down onto his head, he formulated a plan. He was not, after all, the type to quit when the going got a little too sodding rough. Walking out, still a bit sore, he lifted his wand to Scourgify his clothes, and remembered that they were on the beach. No sooner had he come to this conclusion, however, did he see his clothes, clean and neatly pressed, hanging on a nail in the door.

After he had dressed, and trekked back to the hotel (and so what if he'd taken Draco's pillow?!), he sprinted to Ron and Hermione's room, raising his hand to knock briskly.

Ron's face peered out from a crack that he's opened. "Hey there, mate. Would say we missed you last night, but-" he waggled auburn brows, "we both know that's not true." Harry and Ron shared a laugh at Hermione's outrages squeak from inside the room.

Harry walked into the room as Ron opened the door fully, and he waited until the door was properly shut, and he had both of his dearest friends' full attention.

"Okay, you lot," he said, unable to mask the goofy, unmistakable happy smile on his face, "something crazy and amazing and wonderful has happened to me, and it's gone...but I'm going to get it back. And I'm going to need both of your help."

Ron shrugged, "Well, whatever it is, mate, you know I'm in."

A very pleased, motherly smile on her lovely face, Hermione Granger turned to the boy she loved as much, if not more, than she ever could any brother, "Absolutely. Oh, and Harry?" She smirked a bit, a knowing look in her eyes as Harry focused on her, his brows raised questioningly, "They don't call me the brightest witch of this generation for nothing."

Harry knew then, that she knew...that perhaps she'd always known, and he saw only love and acceptance. "Thanks."

"Just remind him, won't you? After we figure this out, remind him that should he step out of line and break your heart, I can and will break his nose...again."

"You'd have to wait your turn, 'Mione. It wouldn't take a broken heart for me...a sneeze would just about give me a reason after all these years." Ron joked, as both Harry's and Hermione's head swiveled towards him. "What? Didn't think I was smart enough to figure it out?" He chuckled. "You both talk in your sleep, you loony gits." With that he stepped into the hallway, ice bucket in hand, laughing brightly.

When Ron stepped back into the room, Harry and Hermione were deep in a serious discussion.

"Oh, Harry, are you quite sure this is the route to take? Once you do this, there's absolutely NO going back! You do realize that, don't you?"

"Yes, Hermione, I do. But, you see, there's no question for me. I can't live without him, I won't."


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Three weeks later, Draco Malfoy, aka Mr. Black, sat in a dark corner of the bar when an owl flew in, low over the bartender's head, to land on Draco's small, wobbly table. The large, tawny owl pecked his hand, urging him to take the rolled paper tied to it's leg. Once he did, he pushed a bit of cracker at the bird, and it hooted thankfully and took back off, leaving in it's wake a trail of feathers. Ignoring the astonished looks on the faces of his fellow bar mates, he unrolled the fresh copy of The Daily Prophet, and smoothed it out on the table. Only then did he see the enormous headline: The Boy-Who-Lived Dies. His heart leapt up into his chest, and clutching the paper to his chest, he ran outside, apparating immediately to the Burrow. He was immediately surrounded by pointed wands, which were slowly lowered as Ronald Weasley stepped up to him, snickering.

"Ah, Malfoy, it'd just be too easy."

Draco glared at him, disgusted, "I'm not here for insults nor threats, Weasley. I'm here because of this!" He held up the slightly crumpled, damp paper, unaware that his face was quite wet with tears, or that he was shaking. "How could this have happened?! You bloody wankers were supposed to be watching out for him! This has to be a mistake...something, I know...I know I would have known if he had died." He threw his hands into his hair, pulling it slightly, pacing back in forth in front of a large group of confused Weasleys.

Ginny Weasley approached him cautiously, her wand tip hovering beneath his chin. "Why do you even care? You've always hated Harry with a passion!"

"Passion being the key word there, eh, Malfoy?" Ron muttered under his breath, as he pushed his sister's wand away gently, and stepped in front of Draco's trembling form. "Come on, then. He left something for you."

Draco watched the extremely tall boy walk into the house, cutting a wide path through the angry group. He followed cautiously, not even caring if they fired a hex on him as he walked away. It was screaming in his head over and over. Harry's name, his face, my gods...he left something for him...could it actually be true?

The red headed man stopped at the top of a steep stairwell, and opened the battered door to his childhood room. He beckoned Draco in and headed straight for his desk, to the letter he had watched Harry write a mere 24 hours ago. Still reeling from the past day's events he turned, letter in hand, to see Draco holding the framed picture he kept on his nightstand. It was his favorite. Hermione, him, and Harry in front of Hagrid's cabin. They were all laughing, arms slung over shoulders...they looked happy. He heard a sob, and looked, stunned, into the face of a man he had hated for the majority of his life. The pain there was unmistakable, and he felt sorry for him, much to his own shock. He put a kind hand on Draco's shoulder and handed him the letter.

"I'll leave you alone for a bit." Ron turned to leave, and then, with the ghost of a smile, he angled his head back to look at Draco, who was staring at the unopened letter. "Hey, Malfoy, was he right about you?"

"Right about me?"

Ron looked into the tormented eyes, and nodded. "I guess he was, after all." He then walked out the door, and shut it behind him.

Draco was left in the room, the silence weighing on him, until he gave in and sat on the chair pulled close to the desk. He opened the letter slowly, trying desperately to breath more slowly. When he saw the handwriting, he squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted so badly to just see the man one more time. Forcing his sore eyes open, he began to read:

Dear Draco,

When we were together last, just weeks ago, I was given a taste of something I'd never been able to attain before. I was given a chance to feel love for someone who (I know) loves me in return. You left the next day, before I could wake and tell you what our being together meant to me. I could be all wrong, goodness knows it's quite possible, but I don't think you wanted to leave. I think you wanted to stay with me...that you wanted what I want. And what I want is to share my life with you, to be with you always. Let's forget the bloody past, Draco. I think we both deserve some happiness, and why not with each other?
Of course, I suppose all of this is moot by now. You see, I am a bit more clever than you give me credit. I know why you left, Draco. And it's not because you're scared of being caught. You left to take the decision out of my hands...to make it easier on me. But, it just make it harder, love. It's taken me awhile, and a bit of help from Ron and Hermione, but I finally figured out what to do.
That day, I told them (Ron and Hermione) that I couldn't live without you, that I wouldn't. Well, I can't, and I won't. You left that day, and now I'm leaving. I'm going to the place I've been happiest, and where I've been loved best. I hope, perhaps, to look up and see your face before long. I've always felt you, Draco. And, I believe, that a part of you feels me, as well.
Know that I love you. And, please, do this for me...go to the place that you have been the happiest. Go where you're loved best, and I promise you something. You'll find what you're looking for.
Yours,
Harry

Draco reread the letter several times. His mind was overwhelmed, his heart beating a endless staccato in his chest. He walked down the stairs, clutching the letter to his chest. Stopping in front of Ron, he took a deep breath.

"Thank you, Ron."

Ron's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "You're welcome, Draco."

He started towards the door, when he heard a distinctive voice.

Hermione Granger stepped forward, nodding her head at the letter he held. "Read that carefully, Draco. In it, I imagine, you'll find more than words. In fact, if you look close enough, I'd wager you'll wind up making our Harry happier than he's ever been in this life."

His blonde head jerked up, and he smoothed out the letter, his eyes scouring it. He came to the last bit, and a hint of a relieved, anxious smile spread onto his face.

"Thanks again." He said solemnly before he apparated once more, to the beach where he had found Harry sitting. Head whipping around, looking across the entire spread of beach, his smile faded away as he saw it empty and deserted. As his body gave out beneath him, he felt grief ripping through him, tearing into every part of his body. He lay back in the sand, uncaring. His arms lay above him, and he fisted them, rolling over to beat his hands repeatedly into the sand. The sobs were torn out of him; everything was over-bright and harsh, and his eyes rolled around, focusing on everything and nothing. That is, until they fell upon a set of footprints, one set, leading away towards the small cottage he had rented just weeks ago. Draco stood, willing his legs to work, and he made his way away from the beach. As he approached the building, he noticed a flicker in the window and he moved towards it, his heart welling with hope.

Pushing open the door, Draco, looked into the candlelit room and turned towards the bed. Lying there, his head lying on his crooked arm, was his Harry. Breathing, and alive, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Falling to his knees, Draco placed his hand on Harry's face. "Harry?"

Harry's eyes opened, and a smile graced his lips, "I'm not dreaming, I hope?"

Draco grasped the man roughly and pulled him up, devouring his mouth unmercifully, "They said...it was in the papers...I thought..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I know how I would've felt had it been you, and I'm sorrier than you could know. I just-"

"What? Say anything, Harry. Honestly, I don't care why you did this...I'm just so damn glad to see, to know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are still here." Draco shuddered, and stared into those vibrant, dazzling eyes. He felt quite unable to look away...a mere blink was torture.

Harry put a hand on either side of the elegantly handsome face in front of him, "Harry Potter is dead."

Draco gasped and an angry glare shot out of those striking silver eyes. "I don't ever want to hear that. Ever."

"I'm sorry, Draco, but I'm afraid you'll never hear anything different, in reference to me."

A pointed eyebrow shot up, confused, "I'm not quite sure I understand."

"Well, the simple of it is this: Hermione and Ron and I researched, we probed, we inquired...and there was no way for you to come back, not without the distinct possibility of-... Well, no matter now. It didn't seem the right way, and like I said earlier, I won't live without you. So, I died. Hermione and I together pulled off this spell that would have impressed you, love. Everyone thought they saw me, dead and gone, when actually it was Dobby." Harry chuckled, "Once they'd begun the burial, he apparated on out. He's helped a great deal, and I think he's the most understanding, as far as why I need you so very badly.

"Draco, that me is gone, and I'm quite afraid that you, Mr. Black, are stuck with me, Mr. James Evans, for a good long time." Harry paused, and for only a moment, looked a bit unsure, "That is, if-"

"If you finish that sentence, I'll hex you." Draco said, his face teetering between pure awe and fear. "You know; you must know how I feel. When I thought you might really be gone, it felt as though all that was joyful and happy in me, everything that ever brought me pleasure, was worthless and deadened. But, for you to do this...it's not something you can come back from. Chances are, it'll be far too risky to ever even see-"

"Draco, have faith. If in nothing else, in me and the faith I have in my friends. While Mr. Black and Mr. Evans roam this big, big world, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Ms. Hermione Granger are going to be at work, trying to get you freed of any and all charges. And when that day comes, and it will, love, we can be anyone we want. I can be Harry Potter or I can be James Evans. And I can do either one as long as I live, as long as I'm living with you. Because, Draco, without you, there's no point to living for either one. I love you. That's not going to stop, or falter. I-" Harry paused, feeling the searing tears fall off his cheeks, "Gods, Draco, I want you so. Won't you have me?"

"Have you." Draco sucked in Harry's breaths, his hands ripping at the pajama pants he wore. He tore at his own, swearing and tasting alternately. When, at last, his body was finally pressed against Harry's, the feeling of that hot skin sliding underneath his ripped a rumbling moan from his lips. "I'll not live through this next minute without having you." He felt a warm hand move down his body and onto his erection, sliding up and down, a silky substance coating him. His love had pulled his legs up, and wrapped them firmly around him. Draco placed a soft, wet kiss onto an adorable freckle on Harry's golden, defined chest.

When, at last, he felt Draco warm and hard and up against him, he pressed down, feeling the glide of the flesh fill him up. The stretch of it ached, and burned, and he cried out with it, accepting, and returning, kiss after kiss until his lips were swollen and tender. And he just kissed back harder for it. He felt Draco hit that fantastic, amazingly sensitive spot, and he arched up beneath him, offering everything. Opening eyes he had not known were shut, his entire world was filled with shining silver eyes, and glossy platinum hair that was brushing over his face as the man above him took over his mouth. He tasted of liquor, and a dark, almost chocolate, flavor, mixed with something that could only be Draco, himself. Harry couldn't get enough, and he latched onto Draco's neck, sucking and nipping.

Groaning loudly, he pulled back, his eyes wide and stark, as he stared at that delightful, sinfully brilliant mouth. That mouth that just now opened wide in a silent scream as Harry fell over that edge, and, with nails raking his back, he fell over with Harry, growling his name until he collapsed onto his lover with a content sigh. "We must do that again, and quite a lot."

A smile slipped onto Harry's lips, "Only until forever." He whispered sleepily.

Draco clasped his hands together tightly around Harry's body, holding him close enough, and hard enough, to bruise them both, "That works for me."