Loving You Is A Losing Game

A broken heart is all that's left
I'm still fixing all the cracks
Lost a couple of pieces when
I carried it, carried it, carried it home

”HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!” Voldemort’s high nasally voice filled the air.

There was an instant reaction. Cackles and cheers came from the Death Eaters, in particular his dear deranged aunt Bella. From the light side Draco heard horrified screams and sobs, the weaselette even rushing forward, only to be stopped by her father. 

But none of that mattered to Draco.

His eyes were focused on the body lying limp in the half-giant’s arms. From where Draco was standing, he could identify that the figure had a mop of black messy hair, and a pare of blank, unseeing emerald eyes. And of course, a jagged scar on the forehead. 

Suddenly it was like the world had stopped it’s orbit. Draco felt his body start to heave, struggling to get air in. He wanted to scream until his lungs stopped working. To smash everything in sight like they were nothing. To see everyone there in pain, hurting, as he was. 

I'm afraid of all I am (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
My mind feels like a foreign land (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
Silence ringing inside my head (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
Please, carry me, carry me, carry me home

Draco stared helplessly, watching for a sign of movement from his lover. Nothing. He shuddered at the blank look in Harry’s once vibrant, expressive eyes. His rational thoughts had completely gone, and was filled with overwhelming waves of rapidly changing emotions. Anger. Disbelief. Heartbreak. Agony. Grief.

He would never see Harry’s face light up when Draco would surprise him with a date or a gift. His smile which shone brighter than the sun when Draco told him he loved Harry. Harry’s pure love and affection when he returned the sentiment. His eyes burning in passion when they argued. His pleasured expressions when they made love. He would never see Harry. 

Draco couldn’t imagine his future without Harry. In their early years at Hogwarts, Draco and Harry couldn’t stand being the same room together. But then fifth year happened, and to both of their surprise, they started to talk. Alone, in a shared secret spot. Just small conversations at first. Pleasantries. And then Harry began confiding in Draco; about his grief and guilt over Cedric’s death, no one believing him about Voldemort’s return, Umbridge’s detentions. And at the very end of the year, his godfather’s death. 

What began as a tentative friendship eventually blossomed into a full-fledged romance. They didn’t tell anyone, but he knows Granger and Weasley know, or at least, suspected something. 

The last time Draco had seen Harry, before he, Granger and Weasley went off on some supposed quest, was Harry telling Draco he loved him, but the war had made them toxic. That it had broken them. And then he left. 

At that moment, Draco’s legs gave out, burying his head in his hands to hold in a sob. He faintly heard his mother calling for him, but didn’t acknowledge it. His eyes blurred as tears filled them, the reality of Harry’s death hitting him. 

Then he realised that the Dark Lord, his lover’s murderer, was saying something and was filled with an intense rage.

He let out an enraged scream, summoned his wand from Harry, and ignoring the gasps, moved towards Voldemort. 

How many pennies in the slot? (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
Giving us up didn't take a lot (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
I saw the end 'fore it begun (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)
Still I carried, I carried, I carried on (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)

Voldemort must have seen him out of the corner of his eye, and quickly sent a wordless spell towards him, which Draco deflected. He didn’t care whether he was killed. He would avenge Harry. He wouldn’t let this tyrannical monster win. 

Draco threw all his effort and fury into sending the final blow to Snake Face. “AVADA KEDAVRA!!!” 

He saw Voldemort try to send one back, but was unusually weak, and he saw the exact moment the curse hit him. Voldemort dropped dead. The air stilled, no one saying anything. Then his aunt Bella shrieked, and went to attack him, before the light side rushed at her and the other death eaters.

Spells exploded from all around, the battle starting up again. But Draco just stood there. Looking down at who until just now was considered the most dangerous wizard in Britain. 

Oh, oh-oh-oh oh
Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh
All I know, all I know
Loving you is a losing game
Oh, oh-oh-oh oh
Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh
All I know, all I know
Loving you is a losing game

Dreading what he knew he’d see, he slowly turned and started walking towards where the half-giant was cradling Harry in his arms, letting out loud sobs.

Hagrid looked up as he approached, and must have seen something in Draco’s face, because he slowly pushed Harry’s body into Draco’s awaiting arms.

Draco nuzzled his head into Harry’s hair, recoiling from the coldness of his skin. The lifelessness of Harry. He was openly crying now, letting out quiet whimpers of apologies and pleads for Harry to come back to him.

But he never did.

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see, to his surprise, Granger and Weasley standing there and not fighting elsewhere like he’d assumed.

Hermione’s cheeks were tear stained, but her eyes held compassion and sympathy. For him, Draco realised. Harry’s friends knelt down besides him, in the midst of the battle, and the three mourned over Harry. 


I don't need your games, game over
Get me off this rollercoaster

Looking down at Harry’s angelic face, he looked at peace, Draco noted. Something that he never looked like in life. A prophecy had made sure of that, before he was even born. 

He let out a quiet gasp as he looked up out into the sunrise, and saw three silvery figures. There was a beautiful young woman, with flaming auburn hair and eerily familiar green eyes. There was also a man there, who was tall and slender with messy jet black hair and warm hazel eyes. But between them… was Harry.

“Harry…” he murmured. Weasley and Granger looked at him in confusion, their eyes flickering in the direction he was looking in. 

Harry had a blinding smile on his face, his eyes full of love. He gave a slight nod almost in gratitude to Draco, before the figures slowly faded into the orange sky. 

Somehow, Draco knew. He knew what he was meant to do. Voldemort was gone, but there was still a battle to be won. Hermione and Ron seemed to understand what he was thinking, and they stood up. Resting Harry in a safe spot until he could come back and give him a proper hero’s burial, Draco planted a final kiss on his lover’s forehead and joined them in standing up. 

He looked up towards the ruins and crumbling towers that were once Hogwarts, and he vowed to work to repair the wizarding world once all was over, and the fallen were grieved. He would make the wizarding world better, his father’s ideologies be damned. For Harry.