Title: Evanescence
Characters: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Character Death - NOT Harry or Draco
Summary: The memory of that horrible day won't stop haunting Harry and Draco.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP in any way, shape or form. Except for this plot

Evanescence

Fingertips making light, tickling paths across my arm were what woke me from my nightmare, now dousing itself into nothingness as consciousness stole me away from my screams. My eyes flickered open to the sound of Harry's voice whispering in my ear.

"Those noises you were making," he said, shivering against me as I struggled to focus on the heaviness of his body on top of mine. When everything stopped blurring I beheld his ephemerally lucid eyes staring at me with a wild sense of excitement. I wondered how long that clearness would last this time as he smiled.

"Hi Draco Malfoy," Harry said, with a goofy smile reminiscent of our Hogwarts days. As I choked back a sob he ran his hands through my hair, massaging my furrowed forehead with his thumbs.

"Hi Harry Potter," I responded tearfully, and he bent down and kissed me. I forgot, for a time, how we ever came to this.

How seeing his surrogate family burning at the stake the day he went to take me to meet them left his mind in shambles. How now he was more away than here, even if we were sleeping next to each other. I was thankful every day that, no matter what, he seemed to somehow still know that we were in love.

I exulted when he started to make love to me – something he only did when he was all here – both of our eyes open so we could always remember that look when he left again. Everything came back too soon. I cried out, tears making their way down my face, when he called out my name; he slumped over me and kissed it all away.

"What were you dreaming about?" he whispered, his lips making my sweaty skin tighten. How could I tell him? How could I possibly say that every night I dreamed that he'd gone home the day he was meant to? That he was supposed to receive me with the Weasleys. How I imagined his body on fire and floating in mockery of a phoenix, the flames licking his olive skin in a demonic fashion and his mouth hanging open, with vocal chords burned to a crisp, so that all I heard was rasping sounds over and over, amplified to an ear-bleeding pitch. I gagged as I thought of it and pushed Harry off me so that I wouldn't throw up all over him. He crawled over to me as I retched dryly and rubbed my back.

I was breathing hard as he helped me sit back, looking worriedly into my eyes. It must be horrible, always remembering that moment, living in it constantly, I thought.

"Won't you come home, back to me, to the present, for good," I rasped, closing my eyes, hearing him sigh. I rubbed my fingers under my tired eyes.

"Draco... I... It's not my doing. It was terrible, and it did something to me. I don't know how to fix it. Just seeing them up there with charred bits of them falling like some kind of obscene rain on Molly's beautiful garden," Harry said, shivering and looking down at his hands, not seeing me shaking my head 'no' repeatedly. I lifted his head, wanting to make sure he was still here.

"No, I'm not going to have your moments here dwelling on that," I said with conviction. "What do you want to eat?" I asked, changing the subject and wanting him to choose, as he now could, what he actually wanted.

"Have you taken me to any Healers?" he asked, ignoring my question, and scratching at his falling hair. His eyes were expressive – hope, defeat, love, apology. I slumped down, groaned and covered my eyes with the heels of my hands.

"Draco, stop. Why can't you look at me?" Harry asked curtly, hurt. But he didn't know that I always stared into his fogged eyes, just waiting for that moment when he'd suddenly realize his surroundings and they would clear up like a cloudy spring day sometimes did when rain was thought imminent. But his eyes were too intense, too fervent, almost salacious in the way he looked at me now. In the way he stared at me, never blinking, all the time pulling me in. But always, just when I'd looked at them, returned the stare, he'd leave. Leave, that's what he always did. And I had nothing but a memory to imagine into the emptiness there. Day after day after day.

He moved my hands away from my eyes gently and lifted my head so I could look at him. His chin was wrinkled and quivering. I didn't like to see those verdant irises drowning in tears; that happened way too often. I tried to smile and answered his other question.

"Yes, I've taken you to Healers." Harry nodded, knowing that if there was anything new I would've told him.

"I want you for breakfast," he said mischievously after a moment of silently looking out of the window at the cloudy, mid-day sky, and began tickling me in earnest.

We were breathless when I took him to the kitchen for some actual food, and he surprised me by helping. I didn't want to get too happy, but his lambent aura, full of his pre-Burrow, childish enthusiasm, was contagious, and I couldn't help but succumb to his impromptu food-fight.

I couldn't eat. I sat there staring as he looked down at his food and chose what he was going to eat next. My eyes never left his every bite. His gusto in consuming the lunch was incredible. As a hiccup escaped my lips he looked up, his tongue now frozen in its last action of licking his spoon, and tilted his head.

"You bring me back, you know," Harry said solemnly, putting his spoon down and reaching for my hand. Entwining our fingers together, he looked back at me with his bottom lip between his teeth. Getting up, he led me to the couch, where he made me lean into him and wrapped his arms around me, a postion I was starved for.

"Don't stop talking to me, okay. I know... it's hard, but I hear you; that's how I come back. I feel you next to me, Draco. It's just that I want to save them so badly and I can't. I try everything, but I can't, and it hurts. Maybe I'll stop trying soon, realize that it's pointless," Harry said, and I could almost imagine him smiling sadly. "Maybe I'll come back. All I need is your voice, Draco, and I don't feel so alone. It's how I come back. Don't give up on me. Please, please, don't." I could feel him quivering behind me, crying silently, and I sat up, dislodged his arms in regret, and turned around to look at him.

"Never," I said adamantly, my own eyes brimming with tears, shaking my head from side to side. "Okay, never think that I'd do that. All right?" I asked, wanting him to answer. He smiled half-heartedly and nodded, trying to stifle his tears.

"What are you crying for, you fool?" I asked chokingly, trying to laugh, wiping the drops away from his flushed face.

"I haven't cried for them, Draco. The only one I ever cry for is you, and... it's my fault, if I was only there-"

"And where would I be, huh?" I interrupted, eyes wide at my nightmare taking form in his speech and at this new confession. "Cry for them, Harry, please. They loved you, and you loved them. I love you. Please, don't cry for me, not yet, at least-"

"Don't!" he shouted, just as I was about to close my eyes in defeat. "Don't you dare close those eyes."

We stared at each other. Harry raised his hand, touching my face with his chilly fingers. His eyes abruptly lost focus and he became panicked; he dropped his hand blindly to mine and held it in a tight grip. I kept looking into his eyes earnestly, trying to keep him focused on my face. My breath was coming in short gasps when they suddenly riveted back to me.

"Draco, I want... I want you to know that I..." Harry said, eyes wide as he struggled to speak fast, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. I looked at him, begging him to remember, to continue.

His eyes started losing sharpness again, becoming dilated as he tried to utter in a whisper what he wanted so badly to say, I knew he was going back. "I lu... ah... a... ve-" he brokenly said, not finishing his thought as his irises fastened somewhere behind me, going back to into memory. I shook my head and my teeth clamped as I silently wished that he'd come back. But he wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't.

"No! No, no, no, Harry. Don't leave. Come home, come back to me," I said, grabbing his head tightly between my sweaty palms and staring into the empty orbs. "Look at me! Bloody hell, focus. Focus, Harry." I screamed through my clenched teeth as if I were being tortured, looking up at the smooth ceiling for answers.

"They're dead, Harry," I whispered in defeat, dropping my forehead so that it touched his. "You can't save them anymore. I can't... baby, I can't. I need you so badly; so please, if you really do hear me, try. Try harder. Save me. Please." I turned my attention to Harry, then, and noticed a stray tear running down his face. My throat closed.

I stared quickly at his face, but he was still gone. I gave him a wry smile and took him into my arms, shaking my head in bewilderment, wanting to believe that he was somehow communicating with me. I laid us both down on the couch, rocking us to sleep. Thinking of Harry, trapped in there, like a ghost unable to leave the world behind.

Just before my eyes closed, my breath hitched as I put Harry's last broken phrase together. "I love you, too," I responded, kissing him on the corner of his twitching lips and resolving to talk to him even when I felt myself sinking into insanity. I would never give up on him, I'd told him the truth, no matter how hopeless it seemed at times.

My eyes closed and all I saw was Harry. Harry's sweaty hands leaving mine, his head turned back to stare at me in incredulous horror at the sight in front of us.

Harry up there with them.

Harry up there, burning.