Tearful Wishes

Harry awoke, for the second time that year, in a different place than he had fallen asleep. The dormitory was quiet other than the loud snores of Ron and Neville’s quiet mumbles. Upon casting a quick tempus, he realized that it was exactly three in the morning, and sighed. He closed his eyes, thinking of Lily playing with her stuffed dragons, Scorpius and Albus arguing over Quidditch, and James and Teddy playing exploding snap in a corner. He thought of Hugo gripping onto Hermione’s cloak at the Burrow, and of Ron quirking his lips up in a smile whenever Rose called him “daddy.” He thought of Draco, curled up in bed with a book, glasses sitting on the tip of his nose as he played with Harry’s hair, of Draco cooking breakfast in the morning, telling Harry he had cooked too many breakfasts in his life, and that it was Draco’s turn to do the work. Harry thought of the smile lines on Draco’s aging face, the way the joints in his nimble fingers sometimes popped - surely an early sign of arthritis - and how he joked that it was because of the nargles. He thought of Draco, and how in the current moment he would be in a bed in the Hospital Wing, alone and hurt and terrified. 

Harry stood, silent as a mouse, and grabbed onto his invisibility cloak. The Hospital Wing was close to the Gryffindor Tower, for good reason, and Harry made it there in minutes, opening the large doors and slipping into the dark room. Only one bed was occupied, and Harry recognized the pale blonde hair as the same that he had been playing with only hours prior. Draco was awake, crying silently as he stared into the abyss, and Harry let his instincts take control, making his way over to the bed and kneeling in front of it as quietly as he could.

He wasn’t sure what stopped him from touching the boy, but as soon as the blonde had cried himself to sleep, Harry reached out, running his hand through the boy’s pale hair for a moment before kissing his forehead and leaving. Harry made his way out of the room and past the tower, hurrying down the stairs until he reached a door he had entered too many times the year before. He knocked on the door three times, and informed the portrait beside it of his intentions, watching the man stand and disappear.

Severus Snape opened the door, his bed jacket sweeping the floor and a sleepy anger in his eyes.

“Potter,” the man drawled. Harry had to keep himself from chuckling. “What on earth has brought you to my quarters so late in the night?”

“Professor Snape,” Harry spoke in the nicest manner he could. “I need to speak with you.”

The man nodded, allowing Harry to enter the office and sit at the visiting chair in front of the desk.

“I know everything,” Harry began.

Severus Snape listened to the boy tell his story, sighing and muttering under his breath in constant annoyance.

Harry left at six in the morning, ran and changed his clothes, and headed to breakfast as though it were any other day. The only thing missing from his person was a specific textbook and the weight of dread for the future.

***

Fiendfyre raged around the room, encompassing and destroying everything it could touch, but all Harry could think was that he needed to save Draco. Ron and Hermione knew nothing of his experiences back in sixth year, and the only person who did had played his part quite well so far. Harry could only hope that Snape knew how much help he had been so far, and chose to continue protecting Draco.

Draco, at the moment, was clinging onto a pile of things, and Harry took the moment to grab the boy’s hand, missing that touch more than anything. Ron and Hermione made it out of the room first, and Draco and Harry followed quickly after, the two of them tumbling onto the floor a few feet away from the two. Harry hurried to chuck the diadem into the fire before the fiendfyre finished off the room, holding tight to Draco’s hand as he did so, willing the boy to stay. The horcrux roared as the soul was destroyed, and Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, telling them to run to the Chamber as quickly as they could. They both nodded, confused, and ran off.

Harry turned to look at the trembling blonde, bringing them both to their feet, Goyle lying unconscious on the floor a few feet away. Draco looked around quickly, his eyes wide as he tried to process his friend’s death. Harry grabbed both of the boy’s hands, squeezing them tight before speaking.

“Draco,” Harry spoke, waiting for the boy to calm down. “Draco look at me.”

The blonde continued to look back and forth, and Harry lifted one of his hands, reaching up to cup Draco’s cheek and force the boy to look at him. Grey eyes met green as Draco stared and gulped.

“Draco,” Harry spoke, softer this time. “Draco it’s okay, you’re okay.”

“Crabbe, he-”

“I know,” Harry nodded, hand still on the wide-eyed boy’s cheek. “I know and I’m so sorry, love, but we don’t have much time and I need you to listen to me.”

Draco, despite his normal snark, simply nodded and stared at Harry.

“I need you to promise me that you’ll stay here. You need to be safe, and you’re a target for both sides right now. Go hide where the infirmary is, or I can sneak you into the Chamber. But I don’t want you to go anywhere and get hurt.”

“Why,” Draco gulped, steeling himself and putting on his normal facade. “Why do you care so much, Potter?”

“Because,” Harry rubbed his thumb across Draco’s cheek, glancing over his face. “Because I love you, and I know you love me. You have since fourth year, and I have since sixth.”

Draco, shocked, stepped back to get Harry’s hands away from him.

“What in Merlin’s name has given you that impression?”

Harry smiled at him. “You did.”

***

Draco stayed, hiding in the shadows of the battle and casting quiet hexes at Death Eaters. He wasn’t sure how Potter had found out, but he needed the git to live so that he could tell him the truth.

This became a problem when, after an hour of silence, Harry’s body hung lifeless in Hagrid’s arms. Draco stood rigid, staring at the body of the boy he had loved for years, and had only been able to touch two hours earlier. His mother called out to him, begging him to join them, and despite his promise to Potter, he walked into her arms.

Draco allowed his tears to fall only once Neville began his speech, and hoped to Merlin that Bellatrix hadn’t noticed. His mother held him up, watching her son cry silently as he stared at the body of the Boy-Who-Lived. 

Harry lept from Hagrid’s arms, and Draco wasted no time, tossing the boy his wand and leaving both himself and his mother without protection. Draco turned to Narcissa, watching the woman as she spoke, and he could hear her telling him they needed to run, his hearing sounding as though he were under water. Draco shook his head, finally gathering enough strength to stand still when they reached the back of the Death Eaters. Narcissa looked at him, confused, and asked what he was doing.

“I have to stay, mum,” Draco whispered to the woman. “I promised I would stay.”

“Who?” Narcissa asked a loaded question, and with one look from Draco she knew. “Okay,” she whispered, glancing around at the war raging behind them, “we’ll stay.”

Lucius, of course, did not understand, but one look from his wife and he was silenced. The man held his family behind him as they made their way to the Great Hall, hiding in the shadows as the war raged on outside. Draco, despite his better judgement, took his father’s wand and jetted outside, gripping the unfamiliar object as he fought through the swarm of Death Eaters to reach the courtyard.

Harry and Voldemort walked in circles, dancing around each other as they spoke. The world was silent except for them. 

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Tom,” Harry taunted, and Draco saw the Dark Lord scowl. “I mean really, you’ve done some stupid things but this has to top the rest of them, I mean really you seem to have forgotten what destroyed you last time.”

Voldemort spoke, something about Harry being an insolent boy and unable to destroy him. Draco shivered as he noticed the decapitated snake lying near Neville Longbottom.

“It was love that destroyed you last time,” Harry continued. “My mother’s love, to be exact. And this time you were bested by love again. Not only did you completely underestimate me, but Narcissa Malfoy as well, and that woman is not to be underestimated. You see,” Harry and Voldemort shot off spells at each other quickly, both missing. “That night on the Astronomy Tower didn’t go how you thought it did. I really do owe that to Snape. He was the one who suggested lying to you about who disarmed Dumbledore. You see, it was Draco Malfoy who disarmed Dumbledore, Tom, giving him power over the wand.”

Draco gasped lightly, a brief inhale of shock as he stared at the boy speaking.

“Then,” Harry continued, “when I disarmed Draco, I gained ownership of the wand. Curious isn’t it, Tom? That love seems to beat you every single time.”

The two shot off spells at each other, and Killing Curse green met Disarming red. Draco held his breath, praying that Harry would win, that this would finally be over. A blast of light flashed across the courtyard, followed by eerie silence as Draco kept his eyes shut, scared of the worst. 

The cheers of those around him opened his eyes in time to see the last of Voldemort float away. Draco stood stark still as everyone else ran to Harry, the Weasleys and Hermione wrapping the boy into a huge hug as everyone else on the winning side hugged each other and cried. Draco notices small bits of black in the air, evidence of the Death Eaters’ departure. 

Draco made his way back into the infirmary, ignoring the scolding of his father and hugging his mother tight. Narcissa whispered to him as he cried, and the two sank onto the bench at what he now recognized as the Slytherin table. 

They stayed still, waiting for the quiet to be broken, and were surprised when the only sound was the door slamming open and quick footsteps in their direction. Draco glanced up to see Harry Potter rushing toward him, the rest of the light side watching as they entered the room. 

Harry stopped right in front of Draco, waiting for Narcissa to release her son from her gentle embrace before placing his hands on both of Draco’s cheeks and smiling at him.

“You stayed,” Harry whispered in awe. Draco nodded, and the next thing he knew, his lips were being encompassed by Harry’s, the sound of gasps in the room barely heard as the two boys embraced.

“I love you,” Harry whispered once their lips parted.

“I love you too, Potter,” Draco spoke, smiling for the first time in years.

It was not completely over yet, and both of them were aware of this fact, but for now, all was well.