Draco couldn't stop coming back here. The paintings on the walls watched him with bated breath as he traced his hand over the stone desk. The room was still just as it had been when Snape inhabited it, not a book moved from its rightful place on the shelf. He caught a glimpse of his reflection as he passed a cabinet filled with awards. His skin was stretched tightly across his cheekbones, dark circles cut hollows into his face. His shirt hung off him and his hair hadn't been washed in weeks. He wasn't who he had been before the war.
As usual, he ended up at the cabinet of memories. Glass tinkled as he picked a vial of pearly liquid labelled 'Draco Malfoy'. He looked at this memory in particular every time, desperate to find a reason for Dumbledore's trust in him. He only saw things he already knew, scenes he replayed every night in his head, wondering how things could have gone differently. How he could have stopped himself from becoming what he was now - broken. Like a toy a child had thrown around to much, as fragile as the glass this memory was contained in.
The liquid in the pensieve swirled as the memory entered it. Draco touched his nose to it, and let himself be sucked in. Familiar scenes surrounded him: Dumbledore taking him aside at the start of sixth year, "Don't be scared. I trust you." Snape talking to Draco on the night of Slughorn's Christmas party, and many other scenes throughout sixth year, then finally, the one everyone remembered. Dumbledore falling off the balcony, calm in death as in life.
Draco stepped back from the pensieve and put the memory back in its vial. He turned around to place it back in the cupboard, and jumped. "Shit Potter! What are you doing here?"
Potter stood by the desk, clearly just as surprised to find Draco here as he was to find him. "Couldn't sleep." He grunted. "I wondered whether anyone left anything behind here." Looking for memories, as they all were. Looking for themselves, looking for what they left behind in the war.
Everyone lost someone. Crabbe, Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Dumbledore, Snape. Lucius Malfoy. Someone didn't have to be dead to be gone. When someone leaves, they take a part of you with them aswell. You spend the rest of your life looking for that missing piece, but you can never find it. They're gone. But you're still here, without them. We're too young for this shit, Draco thought.
"Nothing. It's the same as it always has been." Draco replied. Except wasn't. And it never would be. "Well, we should go back to bed I guess." Harry said. Neither made any move to leave the office.
Instead, Draco sat down on a step. "It's shit, isn't it?" He said.
Harry tilted his head, "What is?"
"This. All of it. The fact we still have to pretend we hate each other after all this. The fact everyone is gone. The fact that I let this happen. And I don't know why."
Harry moved to sit next to Draco. "Yeah. It's fucked up. That the adults expected children to be able to solve their problems. That they put us through this. That they lied to us for so long."
Draco leant back into the pillar and looked up at the ceiling. Latin words were carved into the beige stone, something he hadn't noticed on his previous visits here. He wondered who carved them, what they meant. And why? Was it as simple as saying: I WAS HERE, proving that you had been here, done something to affect the world's spinning, even if you were now long gone? Draco decided he wanted to leave something behind other than lies and rumours. He wanted to leave something for people to remember him by, not to remember his father or the war. He wanted to leave a legacy.
"Do you miss him?" Harry asked. Draco turned to face him.
"Who?"
"Snape. Dumbledore. Either of them."
"I don't know. Dumbledore always seemed to trust me, but he never tried to help me. I believe he could have saved me, if he wanted to. And he did some stupid things in his lifetime. Snape was my godfather. I cared about him. I guess I miss him. He was a traitor to both sides though."
Harry ran his hand through his hair, only messing it up even more. "I think they're dead now. We just have to let it go. We can't live with ghosts forever."
Neither boy moved for a while, letting the silence say it all for them. Somehow, they had moved closer together, their bodies pressed up against up each other. Harry leant into Draco, head on his shoulder, and said, "Do you think we'll ever be better?"
"No. But we can pretend. We can try to forget." Draco examined his hands, once so well manicured, now scarred and muddy.
"Help me forget. I need to black out for a few hours. I don't want to care." Harry put his hand on Draco's knee. "I know you don't either."
Without a word, Draco twisted his head and pressed his mouth to Harry's. He tasted like mint, but his lips were chapped and dry. Draco felt the need to ask why, why, why would he let himself fall apart, but he couldn't. Harry wasn't the only one letting himself fall apart. He pressed his hands against Harry's chest, and felt his heartbeat race under his fingers. His entire body lit up as Harry pulled him closer. He finally broke the kiss, but left his hands on Harry's face. "Okay."
Nervously, Draco gripped Harry's hand and led him out of the office. Hogwarts was silent at night, the grand hallways deserted and even the ghosts seemed to be asleep. They eventually ended up in the Great Hall. The ceiling showed a pitch black night sky splattered with stars, far above them. The tables sat empty, the candles were missing their usual flickering flames. Instead, they hung above the tables like a shroud.
"Incedio." Draco whispered. A single candle lit, lost in the thousands of snuffed ones. "Incedio." Another candle lit. Harry followed his lead, and they made their way round the room, their shadows wavering in the candlelight. Slowly, they lit every candle in the room. It felt like the moment before a feast or party, where the table was laid but guests had yet to arrive. The scene was set, but what was to happen next?
"I don't like the dark," Draco murmured, "Nothing good ever comes from it."
Harry pulled him close, and whispered in his ear, "You don't have to be in the dark. I'll help you find a light."
They stood for a while, arms wrapped around each other, each keeping the other close without really knowing why. Harry looked at Draco. His green eyes glistened with tears.
"I know it's my fault."
In response, Draco kissed him, lips barely brushing, before saying, "No. Never. Not your fault. You saved everyone. You're so brave."
"But how can I be brave if I can't face myself?" Harry buried his head in Draco's chest. His voice was muffled when he spoke again, and thick with tears. "I'm my own worst enemy."
"Why? You won. You won, while I stood and watched. Why?" Draco tilted Harry's head up to face him. "Why...?"
"Because I see him. And her. And everyone. They're all there. I could have saved them."
His father, his mother, and everyone else he'd lost. That made sense to Draco. Ghosts find ways of leeching themselves to the living . "You couldn't have done anything. It's not your fault. You did everything and more to save them. The people to blame are Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Everyone who ignored you. Everyone who underestimated you. Not yourself."
"I know. But it doesn't make it better." Tears ran down his face.
Draco wiped them away, and placed his lips to Harry's forehead. "I know. Nothing makes it better. But you've got to try, otherwise what's the point? We've got to try. I have to try to stop seeing my father in every move I make, stop making a tattoo someone forced me to get my identity. You have to accept that there's people you can't save, no matter what you do. We have to keep going."
Harry leant forward, pausing for a moment centimetres from Draco's face. He asked a silent question. Draco replied. Their lips met, bodies crushed together, hands gripping each other like a lifeline, keeping them afloat. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe they'd get their happy ending after all. Maybe they wouldn't wake up in the morning, but one night like this was worth it. They could help each other. They could change things. Life could and would go on. They could make it, despite everything. They had a second chance.
AN: Very minor edits
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Remember Me (drarry oneshot)
Fanfiction(Oneshot) And why? Was it as simple as saying: I WAS HERE, proving that you had been here, done something to affect the world's spinning, even if you were now long gone? Draco decided he wanted to leave something behind other than lies and rumours...
