Summary: Four months after the break up, Harry reads all the letters Draco has sent him during their time apart. Will something change? - Sequel to 'I MAY HAVE FAILED'. -
Disclaimer: If all this was actually mine, I would be on the bathtub, swimming in coins.
A/N: I MAY HAVE FAILED was meant to be a standalone, but I was asked for a sequel, and so here it is. I'm working on the third part right now, and maybe then there'll be a fourth.

LEAP OF FAITH

It had been three months, and Harry still woke up everyday and looked to his left expecting to see the blonde sleeping by his side, and every time he saw the empty space beside him he felt a pair of claws clutch onto his heart.

Those three months hadn't been easy; in fact, they had been a living hell. Harry had managed to make it seem like nothing was going on, so that his friends wouldn't start asking him questions, but the truth was that every day that passed he fell a little bit harder, and there he was starting to realize there would be a time when he wouldn't be able to get back up.

Harry often wondered where Draco was, if he was doing alright, if he ever thought of him. There was a blonde he always crossed on his way to work, and every time his heart whimpered at the sight, and every time it wasn't Draco, and every time it hurt as much. More often than that, Harry cried himself to sleep. He held his pillow tight against him and wept vociferously until his lungs were sore and his eyes burnt and his hair was uncomfortably wet from the tears.

There were days when he didn't get out of bed at all. He just stayed there cuddling himself and feeling miserable and wishing he had never asked Draco to leave; but there were other days too, days when he got up and his heart almost didn't leap with every step he took, and on those days he didn't need to pretend that much. He almost felt as if his wounds had healed and left only scars, as if he had come to terms with the emptiness in his heart.

His life had set its mourning routine without anyone even noticing. Everyday Harry would wake up to an empty bed. He wouldn't eat, breakfast being Draco's most detested meal; he would just shower and walk mechanically to his spot and then take the translator to the Ministry. He would smile, but his cheeks would hurt because of faking, he would eat but only because he was being watched, and he would ignore every thing or everyone that reminded him of Draco. Then he would just walk to the station and take the subway back home, where he wouldn't eat dinner -Draco never did; he would just take another shower and crumble onto bed, were he would most likely spend half of the night sleepless.

Insomnia had become one of his closest friends, and he had developed the habit of walking around aimlessly whenever he couldn't sleep. He would just hold tight onto the pillow that used to be Draco's, and that no longer had his perfume but Harry liked to think it did, and wonder around the room in a zombie-like motion.

On the ninetieth night he was to spend alone, he received a letter. It was written in a tidy calligraphy and Harry had no doubt it was from Draco, but as hard as he missed him, he didn't let himself open it, and he just tossed it to the back of his drawers, with all the others he had received and not dared to open.

Ron visited him that night, too. They drank a bottle of fire whisky and then Ron asked Harry if he was ever going to tell him the truth.

"Because I'm sick of pretending that I don't know what I know, as you don't want to tell me."

"You know?" It was the only thing Harry was able to pronounce.

"I know you too well to not notice, and I knew you would never wanted me to know, so I've been pretending for a while."

"And what's changed now?"

"I'm drunk," Ron admitted, "and I'm sick of seeing you like this, lost and broken, and not willing to admit you are."

Harry sighed, as he had never imagined he would have to tell the truth to anybody.

"So how much do you know?"

"Enough. Enough to know what brought you to feel how you feel," It was Ron's turn to sigh, "and enough to know that you should talk to him and take him back."

"But you know what happened, he cheated on me!"

"And you didn't even let him apologize."

Harry's voice had become heated, but Ron's tone remained calm.

"Ron, you are my friend, you should be on my side."

"I am your best friend and I am on your side, don't you see that?" Ron tried smiling, but it didn't ease Harry's expression. "I know what's best for you; I'm just not sure you know."

"Yeah, well, maybe what used to be best for me isn't anymore."

"You can try convincing yourself Harry, but you are most likely to fail. You love him now as much as you did then, and there is no point denying it, I wouldn't believe you, and neither would you."

"You don't know that."

"I do, Harry, I really do," Ron's voice sounded tired, "and I can't keep watching you hurt yourself over something you could so easily solve. As long as you keep acting like this, I can't be around you."

Ron disappeared after those words, and Harry was left alone.

He spent the next week waiting for his friend to stop by, or to send a letter, but he didn't. Then he decided it didn't matter, and tried moving on from that. He didn't need Draco, and he didn't need Ron, or at least that was what he thought.

A month passed and he had almost consumed himself in self-pity and despair. He would no longer eat, as he couldn't see the purpose. He wouldn't go to work anymore, being too weak to stay up all day, and he wouldn't talk to anyone.

It was the fourth month after the break up when he decided he could no longer go on like this. He woke up after a very vivid nightmare, and crawled himself to his desk. He opened the last drawer and took out all the letters Draco had sent him.

Potter… Harry?

If you are reading this, it means you still haven't forgiven me, but you are on your way to do so. I know you won't read this, as you won't read the other letters I will send, until you are ready. I know you too well, and that's why I'm willing to wait.

You told me to give you some space, and I did, for almost two months. Now your absence is becoming unbearable and I need to do something to get you back. I need to get you back.

This may sound a bit desperate but maybe in some way I am desperate. I know I've said a million times that a Malfoy does not beg, not under any circumstance, not ever, but that is about to change because I can take it anymore. I can't keep going anymore without you. I need you too much. I love you too much. I know I didn't say it enough when we were together, and I regret that. I regret everything I did that may have hurt you. Anything I did that got us to where we are now.

If you don't reply to this, I'll know you haven't forgiven me. But I won't give up on you. I'm in, and I'm in too deep to do so. I'm sorry, I truly am. Take me back?

D.