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For the Want of a Nail	By : thewickednix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4934 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. This is made for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 25
- 26
- 27
Chapter 26. Stay

My madness seems to become more distinct with each passing hour. As I chose my fate I was not yet scared, only determined. Then the fear set in. Then the anguish. Now I am so utterly terrified that I don't know what to do with myself.
I cannot seem to stop crying. I attended an Order meeting where the details of the battle were made clear for me. My part in it, at least. The pity and utter devastation I saw in everyone's eyes as my barrier broke was dreadful. Through a vail of tears I watched them all fidget in their seats, terrified and guilty, unable to say a single word lest it would upset me more.
Draco tries to get me to join him every time he leaves for another meeting. He knows I will not. I cannot bear sitting there in that room, watching everyone fear that anything they might say will launch me into another fit of uncontrollable sobbing. I know what I must do, that is enough. I need not know of the other stuff, I need not be there to decide it.
The less I think about the matter, the better. As if I could forget.

___________________________________________________________________

I am with him whenever I have the opportunity, whenever I am not forced to be at those meetings, deciding about his death.
My self-disgust increases with every meeting. Each time I leave him alone, tears filling his eyes. Those tears that never seem to cease. It is devastating to have to leave him, yet I cannot be absent from a single meeting. I cannot risk them making a mistake without me there. We do not have room for a single error. What if something goes wrong?
What if Harry dies in vain?

___________________________________________________________________

"Come in, son."
I walk through the door, and Dumbledore closes it behind me. I sit down in front of the lit fire place, the fire casting shadows into the corners of the drawing room.
The Headmaster takes a seat in another chair. While I wait for him to speak, I desperately try to prevent myself from crying. It seems to be an impossible task these days.
Dumbledore coughs. "Harry," he begins, stalling. "You do know that you don't have to do this?"

Ah, that is why I'm here. I sigh. The old man feels guilty for my sacrifice, more so than ever after having watched me sob and weep my way through the last two days.
When I do not answer immediately, he continues. "No one will hold you responsible if you change your mind. You are not obliged to do this."
I smile slightly, chuckling. "I'm grateful for your consideration, Headmaster. I really am." I turn my attention to the fire for a moment, then back to Dumbledore. "But sir, what you say makes no difference to how I feel. No difference to my decision."
"Harry," the Headmaster sighs, his blue eyes staring at me gravely over his half-moon spectacles. "You are only a boy. It is not your duty to sacrifice yourself. No one could expect such a thing from you, from anyone."
That is where the old man is wrong. It is my duty. How many have not already made the ultimate sacrifice in this war to save someone else? And did not many of them have family, loved ones left behind? I have no one to leave behind, no family that wouldn't recover from my death. Besides, I am not just saving someone, I could be saving everyone.
No, no one could be expecting this from me. Except myself.
"Sir, as I said, I am grateful. But if this is the entire reason you have called me here, then I will leave now. This is pointless." -And a waste of my precious time. I rise from my chair, careful not to meet the Headmaster's eyes too pointedly. If I did, he might notice the doubt within me. Dumbledore says nothing as I walk past him and out through the door, but I feel his eyes on me.
I was not entirely truthful. How could I be? Of course I don't want to die, I'm not that much of a fool.

___________________________________________________________________

"Is there anything you want to do today?"
He lies on his side, looking at me with grave silver eyes. I turn on my back and stare up at the ceiling, wishing I could sink into the sheets and never have to get up.
"No. I don't want to do anything."
Draco voices no objections, though he knows just as well as I do that there are some things I will have to do today. I will have to bid my farewells. To Ron, to Hermione. To Dumbledore, to Remus, to Mr and Mrs Weasley.
To Draco.
"How does one say goodbye?" I croak at the ceiling, unable to turn and look Draco in the eyes. A long silence follows my question. I start to believe I won't get an answer.
Finally I hear a sigh. "You don't."
And then he rolls on top of me, pressing his lips tightly against mine, pulling the sheet from between our bodies. Skin against skin, I intertwine my fingers into his hair. His hands roam my body, his thigh pressed between my legs. He is harsh and rough, leaving no room for objections, no room for me to catch my breath.
He sinks into me, biting my neck harshly as he does. I hiss and groan beneath him, our mutual loud breaths echoing around us. I dig my nails into his back, probably drawing long pink lines down his back. He shudders beneath my touch, and I marvel at the feeling of being able to affect him like that.
Draco pants in my year, and I feel like my heart is beating out of my chest. The feeling and mixture of senses is overwhelming, and it is over much too soon. Draco comes with a throaty groan, his shoulders flexing and chest shaking. He is absolutely gorgeous. He lets himself fall on top of me, burying his face in my neck as the aftershocks run through us both. Draco trembles one last time, and his lips part against my shoulder as he whispers:
"Don't you dare tell me goodbye."
A shudder runs through me, and I feel a tear run down my face. How could I keep such a promise? How can I leave him, without telling him... Without thanking him?
"Promise me."
So I do. How could I refuse him? How could I ever deny him?

___________________________________________________________________

"Merlin!"
I hear a sob from the kitchen, and refrain from entering as I had planned. Instead I remain outside the door, waiting. Listening.
"Calm down, Molly." Mr Weasley's voice carries out to me. The sobbing doesn't stop, but calms down a bit.
"I can't help it!" Mrs Weasley exclaims, and I hear the sound of a fist hitting wood. "It is so unfair! How can they make him, make that poor boy-"
Mr Weasley sighs sadly. "No one is making him, Molly. It was his own choice."
Another cry echoes against the stone walls. "His own choice? Something like that is never one's one choice! Especially not a young boy's! Oh, that poor boy..."
I want to leave, but somehow I find myself frozen in place. I don't want to hear this, those sentences, those words that everyone keeps repeating. Those words that I keep repeating to myself.
I don't have to. I don't. No one is forcing me.
But I chose it. This. I chose my fate. While my head keeps telling me to run, my feet refuse. Try as I may to tell myself that I want to live, there is something I want more; I want them to live. Hermione, Ron, all of the Weasleys.
And Draco. If only I could give him a life, too.
I jump half a meter into the air as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to find Draco behind me. He watches me gravely as he takes in my expression, and I try not to look too gloomy. But he knows what I have heard, and he knows how I feel. When does he not?
"Come on." he whispers, taking my hand. I follow him down the hall to the West Wing. Silently we climb the stairs to the 3rd floor. I have the peculiar feeling that I'm going to get scolded. Why, I'm not completely sure.
We step inside his room, and he closes the door. "Sit down."
I do so, on the edge of the bed. Draco stares at me silently for a moment, before he moves forward to sit beside me. I feel the bed shift as he sits down, but I do not dare to look at him. What is it now that demands such seriousness?
Oh well, dumb question.
"Harry," he begins, crossing his hands in his lap. "I know you are tired of hearing this, but at the risk of repeating myself and everyone else; you don't have to do this."
I cannot help the snort that escapes me. Draco's stern look pierces through me, and I turn to look at him from the corner of my eye. "You're right, I have heard that a couple of times." I laugh softly, earning another disapproving gaze. "Is there a reason for you to repeat yourself?"
"Stop doing that!"
I jump at his sudden exclamation. I turn my eyes to the floor as Draco stands up and steps in front of me. "Stop pretending it's not a big deal! Stop pretending it's just one of those hard decisions in life that we all have to make! It's not!"
I try to object, but feel the words stuck in my throat. Draco doesn't stop, but falls to the floor before me. "I watch you cry each time someone mentions tomorrow. Every time, except when they ask you to give it up!"
He grabs my hands, my fingers shaking beneath his. "I know I can't change your mind, Harry, but..." Draco takes a deep breath and averts his eyes. "It's okay for you to cry, you know? It's okay to be furious and scared." He looks back up at me, grabbing my hands more firmly.

"Harry, no one wants to die."
I meet his gaze for a long minute, until I cannot help myself anymore. I let out a pained cry and fall back on the bed. Staring at the ceiling like so many times before, I feel the tears overflow.
"I don't want to die. I don't want to go out there tomorrow and-" I feel the bed shift as Draco lies down next to me, ad I close my eyes so I won't have to look at him. "I just want to leave here and...live! But... Fuck! If I don't do this, I will have to stay here forever, cooped up behind these walls, hiding forever..."
"Would it-" The bed shifts again, and a shudder runs through me as I feel Draco draw his finger against my collarbone and neck. "Would it be so horrible? To stay here forever? With me?"
My breath gets caught in my throat. Did he just say that? I turn my head to the side and open my eyes, finding Draco on his side, staring at me seriously. I wait for him to say something more, but when he doesn't I open my dry mouth and croak:
"No, it wouldn't." I sob. "I would, Draco. I really would. But I can't have the lives of hundreds of people on my neck just because I want to stay here with you." I shake my head, sighing deeply.
"I can't."
Draco's expression doesn't change, I don't think he ever expected me to change my mind. I'm pretty sure he just wanted to say it, wanted me to hear him say it. He keeps staring at me for a long moment, until he leans closer, his face so close to mine, breath ghosting against my lips. I take in his scent, breathing in as deeply as I can until I can't take it anymore. I gasp breathily, throwing myself around Draco's neck and kissing him furiously.
I fight with the clasp on his belt, finally ripping it open and zipping down his pants. Pulling his shirt out, I fidget for a moment with the buttons until desperation takes over and rip the shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. He moves to tug at my shirt, but I slap his hands away. I push him to stay on his back as I lie down on top of him. My hands searching his body, my lips kissing his skin all over. He shivers and gasps beneath me, his hardness digging into my hip.
"Fuck! Harry-" he finally croaks, and I stop teasing him. I look up to find him staring at me, eyes glazed and desperate. Still, he doesn't move hastily. Slowly he rolls both of us over, softly pushing me into the mattress and lying himself on top of me. I watch his muscles flex as he moves his arms, sliding my shirt over my shoulders. I shudder as the cold air meets my skin, and even more so when Draco leans over me to nuzzle my throat. He breathes in my scent, and a violent shiver runs down my spine. I had completely forgot about his feeding.
"Harry?" he whispers softly, asking. Pleading. As if he would have to.
"Y-yes!" I groan hoarsely, trembling with anticipation. I hear Draco take a deep breath, and seconds later that exquisite pain pierces my throat. I gasp loudly, my body arching off the bed. Draco presses down on me, keeping me still while he sucks at my throat furiously. I try to concentrate on breathing, my heart seemingly beating out through my chest.
Finally I realise that he has begun lapping at the wound, and soon he moves away altogether. In that second I launch at him, pressing my lips against his, tasting my blood in my mouth. My hands move down over his back, and I start tugging at his trousers. He returns the movement by unzipping my jeans and pulling away slightly, tugging the pants off my legs in one swift movement. He shakes off his own, too, before he lies back down.
Skin pressed against skin, nails and teeth digging in to flesh, hands everywhere. His body moulds perfectly into mine, as if we were made for each other. We move together for what could be an eternity, thrusting, groaning. At some point I realise myself shouting the words harder, faster, oh god yes, I love you, I love you. And to my further ecstasy I hear Draco chanting my name over and over in my ear.
"Harry! Oh god... Fuck! Harry..." he murmurs huskily, groaning. "Harry...Please. Stay... with me."
My heart seems to stop beating, and before I know it, it's over. I'm coming, and so is Draco, never more beautiful than when he looks down at me right now, lower lip trembling as he whispers yet again.
"Stay with me."
I wish that I could tell him yes. I would give anything for that ability. Because I realise that those words are the closest I will ever get to him telling me he loves me.
I want to tell him. I want to tell him why I can't do what he asks, and what it means to me that he is asking. But my mouth is filled with ash, and the proper words won't form. All I can seem to do is shudder with the aftershocks and stare into his pale face as I croak:
"Don't forget me."

___________________________________________________________________

"Don't forget me." he whispers hoarsely. The most ridiculous sentiment in the world.
How could I?
I envy him. In truth and utter ridicule, I do. He is the one that gets to leave. The one that gets to die. The one that won't have to remember. I will have to live on for a thousand years or more, waiting for some kind soul to come and kill me.
I don't want to forget him. But how can I live without him?
- 25
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- 27
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For the Want of a Nail