Potter!

I have to kill you

Draco could not bear to feel Harry's eyes on him from across the Great Hall. He had to leave. And where would he go? But the place where it happened before.

The second floor girls lavatory, which some people called Myrtle's bathroom because it was the place she had been murdered decades before, was all too familiar to him.

Only 2 years before, he had stood over the sink and cried. Cried like a stupid coward. He'd been tasked to kill Dumbledore. Little did he know that Dumbledore was dying anyway and knew that he should be killed. Looking back, it could have been so much easier. So much easier than killing Harry. Now he found himself in a worse situation.

Draco almost wished that the events that happened before would repeat. Harry would enter and see him sobbing over the sink. Perhaps they would fight again, perhaps they would talk. He didn't know which he wanted more. If he was to fight him, he might have a chance to... kill him, or perhaps injure him enough to satisfy his father. If he was to talk to him, maybe he would help him, maybe it would all be okay when he was in his arms again.

Harry didn't come, but Draco had not entirely expected him to. It would be too easy.

The castle grew quiet as people moved up to their common rooms and left the corridors deserted and bare. There was something eerie about Hogwarts corridors being empty, they were like a void one could get lost in and not find his way back to sanity. The echoes of the past seemed to be etched within, the magic that rebuilt the walls lingered like a bad smell, forcing him to remember why they had once been destroyed.

Before he knew it, he found himself walking towards the Loch, to find his quiet spot where no one would disturb his whirring thoughts.

The moon was large and round, its light a shattered reflection in the rippling water. There was a cool breeze in the air which took Draco's breath away as his feet carried him forwards. There was something calming about the darkness of night that he never understood. Perhaps it was the solitude he enjoyed, or perhaps he was truly the dark Prince everyone thought he was before the war.

Though the surrounding area of the lake was shrouded in darkness, he could make out a shape in his spot and his eyes widened. Nevertheless, he knew exactly who it was. Who else could it be?

Draco's mind raced, his stomach did acrobatics, and his heart lurched all at the same time. His brain screamed that now was his chance, but being the coward he was, he held back, hesitating.

Couldn't Harry see him? He moved closer, whispering "Lumos" under his breath and allowing the light to grace the chosen one's soft features. His eyes shut tight, his brows furrowed as if he was dreaming, and lips parted with soft breaths. Draco made every attempt to ignore his beauty but found himself admiring every detail.

Coward, his father's voice echoed around his brain, forcing his eyes away from the sleeping boy.

What was stopping him? Harry was so vulnerable. The great chosen one could be gone with just one flick of his wand. If only he could forget every tremor he felt inside his heart when his eyes met with the boys tanned skin, and dark locks. If only his father had used obliviate on him instead of crucio so he could forget his feelings. He wouldn't have done that though, he wanted Draco to feel the maximum amount of pain when killing the one he loved. It was his own homemade conversion therapy.

His entire body trembling, he lifted his arm and aimed his wand at Harry's chest. He was as still as ever, curled up like a child.

Draco's fingertips were shaking violently and tears fell like waterfalls, staining his face. But no sound came from his lips. He couldn't bring himself to say those words that he'd promised himself he'd never say. Many Muggleborns had thought that it seemed so easy to take a life in the magical world than in the muggle world. After all it was just a slight wand movement and some words and death came running.

Draco didn't want to be a killer, he didn't want to be a death eater, and he didn't want to be a Malfoy anymore.
When he looked at Harry, he felt all the evil seeping out of him, all the hatred and the suppression of the past could leave him if he only let him in.

But then he thought of his poor mother, a wand to her throat, crying his name, "Draco. Draco please." Her voice desperate and wrecked from crying. Either way he was a murderer now.

Green eyes stared back at him, wide and full of fear that seemed to linger in the air like a mist. Draco had never seen the chosen one back away through fear. He was always so brave, so full of courage and fight, a true Gryffindor.

But now he was a small, vulnerable boy, at his mercy, or a wounded animal unsure of how to make it out of the situation. His heart crumpled at the sight.

Draco opened his mouth, expecting the words he needed to flow out. They didn't. They couldn't.

"I'm sorry." His voice blew away with the wind, and scattered itself over the vast mountains surrounding the castle.

"I have to kill you."

Harry gazed at him with pleading eyes. "Draco... Please just lower your wand, we can talk about this."

Draco shook from head to toe, his body stiff, unable to move a muscle. Even when Harry stood slowly, he could do nothing but watch him move closer.

"Draco..." Harry's breathless voice rang through his ears. The way he said his name, the way it rolled off his lips. If he killed him now, how would he survive if he never heard his voice again.

Harry's hand was gently placed onto his, slipping his fingers over the smooth curves of his wand and carefully extracting it from his fingers. He let it drop to the ground, the soft thud being the only sound above the rippling waves.

"Draco. Why do you need to kill me?" Harry chose his words carefully, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I-" Draco's voice was barely audible, he was too afraid that Harry would be angry, that he would tell someone and have him locked in Azkaban for the rest of his life with his fellow death eaters that hadn't escaped trial.

"You went to see your parents, and you come back saying you have to kill me?" Harry was very close to him now, his fingers barely brushing his arms, not wanting to grip him too tightly, to imprison him, but not wanting him to escape.

Draco nodded. It was the simplest answer he could give as tears cascaded down his cheeks and his whole body shook.

Harry took his hand and placed him down where he had been sitting moments before, getting down next to him and taking placing his warmth into his cold palms. "Please don't feel I'm angry at you. But you don't have to do what he says anymore."

It was at that point that Draco gave in and fell roughly into Harry's arms, letting the pain out through cracked sobs that caused his chest and throat to hurt.

Harry wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him closer than he'd ever held him, wishing he could squeeze the pain out him. He had suffered too much pain in his life. They both had. He hoped they could become happy together.