The Boy who lived and The Boy who survived (Drarry)

Chapter 62: The End Of The Path

Present Day. Unknown Location.

"And...Voldemort?" Draco stared into the distance, his head still banging, trying to process the information that had just been revealed to him. "He's gone?"

"Yes." He felt Harry's thumb stroking his hand tentatively. "He's gone."

"...and my mother?" Draco looked at Harry with searching eyes. "Is she safe? Is she alright?"

"Yeah." Harry smiled at him. "She is."

Draco nodded with a smile. From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry reach into his shirt and take out something that glowed a white light. His eyes widened when he recognised his pendant.

"She gave this to me a while ago." Harry handed over the pendant to Draco, who stroked it tentatively with a small chuckle. "Along with this..."

He looked over to Harry and saw him pull out a small black box. Harry opened it, and inside was a ring. The very ring that Draco was planning to give to Harry, to propose to him, after the war was over.

"So?" Draco took the ring out from where it sat and held it up so that they could both see it clearly. "What's your answer?"

Harry smirked at him playfully before taking the ring from his hand and drew it close to himself, stroking the emerald gemstone and smiling when the light reflected on it.

"Slytherin green?" Harry laughed. "It's so you."

"I know," Draco replied, sighing sarcastically. "Not your style."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Harry carefully put on the ring on his finger and held his hand up to inspect it.

He looked over to his left to see Draco staring at him, his eyes glistening and beaming at the sight of Harry. Harry laughed at his reaction and moved closer to him, closing the distance between them with a long, sweet kiss. In an instant, a thousand memories poured from his heart like a tipped-up hourglass. The memory of where it all started, that day in the bathroom – how Harry had held him against his chest like that in the tent– of the day that Draco and he had their first kiss, how they met on the train when they were only eleven. His life with him, which was indeed most of his life, flashed in bright images before his closed eyes. Draco. His Draco, was now with him, where he belonged, once more. Their hands came together between them, fingers finding one another.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Harry shook his head as he pulled away.

"Well, in all fairness." Draco laughed softly. "You thought I was dead."

"And you were." Harry laughed as well. "But I saved you."

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but to Harry's surprise, he closed it again immediately, and looked away, seeming to contemplate something. He looked down at the pendant he was holding and the gemstone remained glowing the same white light.

"Draco?" Harry reached out to him. "What is it?"

"This gemstone..." Draco held it up for Harry to see. "The thing is, it should have gone black the moment I died. I linked it to my heart so that whoever holds this will know if I'm okay or not."

"But that's impossible. " Harry furrowed his brows. "It glowed white this entire time. Even after the war, I found Hedwig wearing it around her neck and still it was glowing white the whole time."

"Do you remember what I told my mother back when I gave her this?" Draco held it out for Harry. " I said that if it glowed white, then it means I'm okay."

Harry reached out to touch it.

"What does that mean?" Harry shook his head in confusion.

"Don't you see?" Draco smiled at him admirably and reached down to take Harry's hands in his own. "I never died because you stopped that moment from ever happening when you pulled me out of there."