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English
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
Completed:
2005-09-23
Words:
3,139
Chapters:
2/2
Kudos:
12
Hits:
1,284

The Unforgiven

Summary:

Can Harry find his way through it all with the help of someone he never thought possible? (Prequel to 'Earth Song')

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: One-Shot

Chapter Text

Title: "The Unforgiven"
Authoress: Mistress Vamp ((mod2682@yahoo.com))
Pairing/Rating: Draco/Harry ((PG13))
Summary: Can Harry find his way through it all with the help of someone he never thought possible?
Disclaimer: JKR owns the "Harry Potter" fandom. Copyright infringement not intended. I am merely using the characters for my own pleasures.
The Challenge: Given by: Dru; Draco/Harry; One-Shot; Romance/Darkness/Gothic atmosphere; Up to NC17; Non-established to Established relationship; Snape; Potions; Poison; Fawkes
Authoress Notes: Shannon for the beta read. She's a savior. A very big thank you to my girl, Dru, for believing in me when no one else did. My first solely Draco/Harry fic, so please be gentle. Inspired by "The Unforgiven" by Metallica
Word Count: 1,985 ((Doesn't include - symbols or 'The End'))
Written on: February 11, 2005
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No matter how hard he fought, no matter how hard he tried to overcome it all, he could never find his way out. They all expected him to play the hero and to be the savior of their world, the world he never knew existed the first part of his life. Now, he was a 20-year-old fighter who only had four to five years of his own freedom. He was trapped inside a world he would never truly want to be a part of, despite that his life was now based on it.

He stood on the battlefield and looked around, Voldemort having decided to stay away this time. It had been too close the last time. He looked to the ground and saw that his last friend had fallen. He had lost Ron first, then Ginny, then the rest of the Weasley clan except for the patriarch. Seamus and Dean had fallen, along with many others that Harry had grown to love and cherish as his family. Hermione had joined the others and now, he was alone. Completely alone.

Moving slowly through the bodies, he moved closer to his fallen friend and knelt beside her, his eyes no longer holding emotion. He reached out and rubbed her cheek gently then removed his robe, placing it over her body as he stayed in his muggle clothing. Whispering his last goodbye, Harry stood and moved from the body, joining the survivors.

Covered in dirt and grime, Harry joined them with no emotions inside his emerald eyes. As they all looked on, they each held grave faces that reflected Harry's pain. Even if he would not express it, they would. He was now alone in this fight, or so he had imagined in his head. His greatest friend had fallen in the very same battle that he was now leaving. The man he had seen as a guidance for all those years, despite the manipulations. He had watched as Dumbledore fell to several hexes, curses, and finally to the killing curse, courtesy of Lucius Malfoy.

Dumbledore's life had been dedicated to training, to guiding, to leading Harry to his final destiny on the battlefield, but Harry now felt dead inside. He felt bitter, old, worn, tired...all of this and more for a man of his age. At 20, he felt 60 and if he were 60, he would feel 100. His life was dedicated to the war. To the defeat of Voldemort and his followers. But Harry knew the moment Voldemort was gone that he would be on the run. He knew he couldn't allow himself to grieve or to think such thoughts, but again, his mind had no stability to think on its own.

As Harry left the battlefield, two men looked on. One of them had been a spy for many, many years and had trained the young man in his lessons. He had trained him in the finest arts of Potions, both in his class and out, and he had trained him in things such as Occlumency and Legilimency to prepare him for the Dark Lord Voldemort, but never had he prepared him for such things as watching someone you love fall to their knees to never speak or breathe again. He knew this was something that one could never be prepared for, no matter how much training you had.

The other man, the same age as Harry Potter, son to the, who others would be calling, the infamous Death Eater that made the greatest Hogwarts Headmaster fall to his death. His eyes were a cold steel blue with a hint of silver inside that radiated just how magnificent and beautiful he was. His hair long and pale blonde, and even covered in dirt, it was the most beautiful that could be seen. He, too, watched as Harry Potter left the battlefield then turned to the man beside him, giving him a look that made the older one cringe.

As they knelt to the ground, the older man moved his eyes back over the battlefield and the younger one prepared the quick potion for the elder man to take against the poison he had been struck with from an arrow. As the younger man worked in silence, the elder man went back to his memories of his classroom when Harry and the trio were the cause of his many headaches. Even if he would never admit it, he did miss those times. In those moments, life was simple and no longer full of war.

Once the potion was made and given to the older man, he apparated from the battlefield and into his dungeons for his rest. The younger man stood and walked sullenly through the graveyard that this place had become. He gave a small whistle and turned his head as Fawkes appeared, giving a small rub over his head. Giving the phoenix a nod, he watched as he flew off and went back to his fallen master, then vanished without trace.

He made his way into the castle and walked through the corridors, his eyes watching as the portraits hung their heads in defeat. The castle itself was in shambles and he was surprised she was still standing. Pieces of the ceiling fell from time to time; the floors were dirty and covered in ashes from battles that had taken place inside her great walls. He walked slowly and calmly, and he listened to the voices as if they were a movie that made the memories come alive. He could hear himself insulting Granger and Weasley; he could see himself giving his version of the Malfoy sneer, which made him grimace in disgust.

The more he walked, the more he remembered what once was and what would never be again. The memories were here, they were fresh, but because of the war and what had come to pass, everything would be forever changed. He made his way up the stairs that took him to Gryffindor tower, knowing who would be there. Once he reached the portrait, he opened it and walked through, the need for a password gone and no longer available.

He stepped through the portrait hole and walked into the common room, his eyes immediately on the proclaimed Gryffindor Golden Boy. He walked slowly and silently to sit beside him, both looking into the fire. Harry felt his presence, but still no words were exchanged between them.

Draco kept his eyes on the fire as he rubbed his thumbs together, his thoughts running faster than his own father's mouth. Harry stood and walked to the fire and knelt in front of it on his heels, his hands joined together. Draco watched his movements and stood silently, moving to stand behind him without being too close. He kept his eyes on the fire, allowing Harry to have his moment alone, but letting him know he was there if he needed him to be.

Harry, despite the feeling of numbness inside, was grateful for Draco being there. The two had become closer since Draco had turned on Lord Voldemort and joined the light. It had not taken Harry long to trust Draco's sincerity, knowing that the loss of your mother can make any one man go rabid on the one that struck her down. The two had formed a truce and eventually an alliance and friendship, which was something no one had ever truly understood, except them.

Harry stood slowly turning, his hand reaching out slowly for him. Draco reached his hand out and met him halfway, taking his hand tenderly as he looked in his eyes. He pulled Harry closer, his mouth having just the smallest twitch of a smile on it. Harry moved closer and pulled Draco at the same time, tightening his hold on his hand. He moved forward just a little and placed his forehead to Draco's, searching his eyes.

Slowly, Draco entangled their fingers and raised his free hand to rub Harry's cheek. He tilted his head just a little and brushed his lips over Harry's, his eyes shining just a little for him. Harry returned the kiss using his free arm to bring Draco closer to him, embracing the man he once knew as his enemy.

Draco leaned closer and lowered his hand to Harry's arm, dragging his fingers over it gently. Harry tightened his hold and Draco leaned in completely, each of them savoring the hold they now had. Harry shut his eyes and held Draco close, allowing himself to feel once more, even if only a little. Draco wrapped his arm around him and whispered against his lips, Harry's tears finally starting to fall.

Carefully, Draco knelt then sat on the floor, bringing Harry between his legs. At first, Harry only allowed a few tears to fall then slowly he started to let a little more go. Within a few minutes, Harry clung to Draco as he cried out all the tears that he was holding inside. He cried for the ones that he lost, for the ones that would be lost, for the ones that were injured, for the ones that would survive and have the memories of those that had fallen that would never leave.

Draco held onto him and allowed Harry to cry out his pain and his sorrow. He whispered comforting words against his ear and let him know he was there for him. He would never tell Harry that he wouldn't leave. He knew these were the words that Harry didn't want to hear. He knew Harry needed him and he needed comfort, for Draco knew Harry felt as if everything was about to end.

Once the sobs quieted down, Draco accioed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around both of them, keeping the young man against him as much as possible. Harry soon fell to sleep and as Draco watched over him, his mind couldn't help but believe that fate was truly unfair to those that deserved freedom. He kissed Harry's head gently and even if he didn't make the promise out loud to Harry, he made it to him inside of his own heart. A promise that would mean he would stay at Harry's side for as long as time allowed and Harry wanted him.

He allowed his mind to go through the past and search for the answers that he wished he knew to the many questions he had. He wouldn't allow Harry to die in vain or allow any of the fallen to die without reason. Was the war really worth fighting and losing all those that had already been lost? Was it really worth Harry losing his life, his friends, his family over? Was it all really worth losing Dumbledore, the Weasley family, or the many innocent bystanders that had been in the path of the curses?

In Draco's mind, if the cause for all of this was freedom from someone like Lord Voldemort, then yes, it was all worth it. It was worth the risk to go to the battlefield, to fight, and to take the chance of never returning. Yes, the future was worth fighting for. A future he hoped would include Harry and a future without war amongst the wizarding world. He hoped for a future with the man he had grown to love and for a chance to show Harry that he could be loved.

Draco moved his eyes over the sleeping man and tightened his hold on him, having the smallest wish that they never had to leave the comfort of each other. He raised his eyes and looked at the fire, allowing the flames to engulf him in their beauty. As the hours passed and his eyelids fell, Draco dreamt of a free world where they would always smile and where they would no longer be deemed The Unforgiven.

If only it could be made possible...
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The End