Title: An Eternity of Tomorrows

Author: Roslyn Drycof

Warning: Beware of moderate slash, angst, violence, and death.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Summary: The day of reckoning has come. This last fight will decide who was the strongest in the end. Will an unexpected love be enough to destroy a hatred spanning years? Or will it die, with the memory of yesterday in two boys' hearts? HPDM. ONESHOT.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way imaginable

----------

Your lips pressed up against mine in a heated kiss, full of passion and desire. A moan escaped my lips as I arched my back in pleasure. You were being aggressive, delightfully strong and demanding. This wasn't anything new, we always shagged wildly. A quick explosion of lust, and then we went our separate ways.

A curl of desire threaded through my stomach, and I pressed myself up against you. Hot skin met even hotter skin, and the friction caused both of us to groan. My arms wrapped around your neck and I tangled my hands in your thick, brown hair. I knew I was tugging painfully on that wavy mass, but I didn't care. In fact, I enjoyed the slight burning pain I caused.

In response, you shoved me up against the wall. I felt my back hit the rough stone with a slam, and the pain reverberated through my slender body. Bruises would definitely be apparent in the morning, but I would welcome them. I always welcomed the marks left by our lovemaking.

In a nimble manuever, your fingers found their way to my pants and made quick work of my belt and trouser buttons. Hands callused from years of Quidditch training were actually quite gentle as they handled the expensive material. My pants dropped to the floor, and so did yours. You didn't think I'd stay passive while you rid me of my remaining clothes? It wouldn't be fair if I was fully exposed to your mercy while you still wore your pants.

I stared at your sinfully gorgeous body, my tongue flicking out to lick my lower lip as my body tightened in arousal. Your eyes were devouring my body as well, and those emerald orbs were heavy lidded and full of desire. It was a look that I instintively knew was mirrored in my own silver eyes.

"Now," I whispered, running a manicured finger down your tanned and muscled chest.

Anticipation rose in your eyes and you murmured, "Oh yes, definitely now."

At the husky sound in your voice, I felt myself throbbing with desire. Impatient, I pushed against your shoulders, knocking you to the bed not two feet away. This was a small room, this secret place we met in to release our forbidden lust.

No one knows of this room except for you and I. This room is special, in every imaginable way. Here, we don't hate each other like we do when we leave. Here, we can forget about the real world and indulge in our every fantasy. Here...we are just Draco and Harry. Not the Malfoy heir and The Boy Who Lived, oh no. We leave those identities behind when we meet in the dark of the night.

A gleam of mischief entered your green eyes, and I felt myself shudder in anticipation. What were you going to do? Before I could even wonder about this, you had me pinned underneath you. You breathed into my neck, your tongue reaching out to flick my sweat-beaded skin.

One of your hands ran down my lean body, stopping at the junction between my hip and thigh. You were so close...so close to touching me. It was agony, having your warm fingers not an inch away from my throbbing length. And you knew it, too. A chuckle escaped your throat, vibrating against my collarbone.

I wriggled, trying to get you closer to me. The heat was pooling in me, and any coherent thoughts were quickly dissipating as passion clouded over me. You were still too much in control and I had to remedy it. In a motion I was immediately proud of, I grabbed your hair with one hand and flicked your nipple with the other, all the while rolling my hips against yours.

Aha! The tips of your fingers brushed me, and I felt instant relief from some of the desire. You were breathing hard, your nipples tightened into little nubs. Didn't think I'd remember how sensitive they were, did you?

(Mature content cut out. E-mail me if you would like to read the uncut version.)

Limp and exhausted, we collapsed onto the bed. Our limbs tangled with one another's, and we panted in unison. This time had been amazing, it always was. There was something about you and me together that just made everything ten times more intense than anything else we've ever felt before. Our hatred is more intense, our shagging more intense. Everything is just so strong between us, it's almost unbelievable.

In the afterglow of our lovemaking, we just lay here silently for several minutes, just catching our breath and resting. Normally, we both fell into a light doze. But tonight, I couldn't relax completely and just lay here listening to your breathing. You almost instantly fell into a deep sleep, probably from how hard you push yourself. It's almost painful to watch, how hard you work to stay in top shape for your next encounter with the Dark Lord. I want to tell you to ease up, but I could never do that. I have no right to, and you wouldn't listen even if I did. You don't listen to anyone. Your pathetic friends are always worrying, and I agree with them for once. Your going to bloody kill yourself before Voldemore gets a chance to if you keep up like this!

I don't really want the Dark Lord to kill you, but how could I ever tell you that? You think I'm the evil son of a Death Eater, and that's all I'll ever be. And hell, even I believe that most of the time. I'm a cruel, selfish bastard who should be tarred and feathered for his awful deeds. Oh, what a horrible person I am! I know it, and I feel guilty, but I can't seem to stop. I've hurt people for so many years, I don't know how to stop. Just like you and being the bloody saviour of the wizarding world. You don't know how to just let go and be Harry Potter.

You and me are similar in more ways than one, but of course I'll never admit this. It would only lead to one of our many fights, and I don't want to destroy the peace we've managed to achieve in this hidden little room. Meeting with you keeps me from going insane, and it makes me feel like I'm good for something at least. Even if it is only a good shag.

It pains me to admit that all I'll ever be to you is a good shag, but you'll never know that. I'm the best of actors. No one knows how I truly feel inside, and that's exactly how I want things. If anyone found out, especially you, that I've fallen inextricably in love with you...I'd be destroyed inside. To see you refuse me, scorn me, that would kill me. I wouldn't be able to handle that kind of pain. The torment I go through now is nothing like what I'd go through if you tossed me aside. It is better if you never find out how deeply I care for you. For my sake, and for yours. Oh how it would distract you from your quest to kill the Dark Lord if you found out that I, your greatest nemesis, was in love with you. Could you imagine that? It would be a disaster of unequaled proportions!

Oh, Potter, why did this have to happen? Why did this passion have to explode between us that night on the Quidditch pitch? Why couldn't we have stayed mortal enemies? Things were so much safer then. But we had to cause complications like we always do. You aren't affected by this like I am though. You can just meet me here every few nights when you need to release the tension of hard days' schoolwork and training. You aren't burdened by a love that grows more and more each time you see me. Damn the fates for the mischief they've wrought! How torturous this is, to love you when you hate me!

You finally woke up after an hour, blinking sleepily and looking not the least bit rested. Your beautiful face was haggard, your cheekbones more hollow than they should've been. And those bags under your eyes were positively monstrous looking. Bloody hell, Potter, you're driving yourself into an early grave!

Quickly and efficiently, you gathered up your clothes and got dressed. I just lay there, pretending to doze. A wistful smile cross your face, and I heard you whisper, "You'll never know how much these nights mean to me, Malfoy."

With that, you placed a gentle kiss on my forehead and strode across the room to the door. A last look over to the bed showed a sorrowful look in your emerald eyes, and then you was gone.

I lay frozen, astonishment crossing my features. What had you meant by that whispered comment? You definitely wouldn't have uttered it if you'd known I was awake, of that I am sure. But what did you mean by those parting words? Could I actually mean more to you than a good fuck? Is that even possible?

Feeling strangely disoriented and confused, I gather up my clothes and put them on. They're a bit rumpled, but I don't care. I don't even take out my wand to perform a tidying charm on myself like I usually do. It's like I'm in a daze. Could you really care for me more than you let on?

I know it is a foolish dream, but I cannot help the thread of hope that spreads through me. What if you really do care for me? It's unlikely that you do, and we could probably never have a future even if you did, but still...I can't help but hope. If fills my heart with an unusual lightness, and I find that I find the feeling actually quite pleasurable. Is this what hope really feels like? I can't remember ever feeling like this, not in so many years. Oh, if this is what it feels like, I wish that I could feel like this more often. Will you give me more chances to hope, Potter? Or will all of this be crushed by the cruelty of reality like everything else good in my life? I hope not...

With a lighter heart that I've had in years, I leave our little meeting place and walk off into the night. The halls of Hogwarts are quiet, and I am careful to avoid Filch. Wouldn't want any unpleasant encounters with that ugly squib. I slip into the Slytherin common room with no incident, and go up into the seventh year boys' dorm. Luckily, no one missed my disappearance yet again. I know it's only a matter of time before someone discovers my late night rendezvous, but I'll gladly hold on to this precious privacy for as long as it lasts.

As I find myself falling asleep underneath the silver and green hangings above my bed, a final thought drifts into my head, For what it's worth Potter, I care about you more than you'll ever know. . .

----------

It is morning, the day after our last rendezvous in the secret room. The memory of our meeting is still burned fresh in my mind, and already I cannot wait until the next time we can be together. And when I happen to catch your eye across the Great Hall, I can see that you are impatient as well. Perhaps we'll be able to slip away tonight? Of course, we don't usually meet two nights in a row, but surely an exception can be made? It isn't likely that we'll be missed anyway.

Scandalous ideas of how we could while away the coming night fill my mind, and I almost don't notice the silence that has come over the Great Hall. But the uneasiness and fear that suddenly fills the room does manage to catch my attention, and I look up. A terrible feeling sinks into the pit of my stomach, and I know that we'll never meet again in that secret room. It's too late, the day of reckoning has come.

Dumbledore stands at the Head Table, a grim look having replaced his usual cheery exterior. He and every other person in the room is staring at the air in the middle of the room where a horrible sight floats menacingly. It it the Dark Mark, a thing I had hoped never to see again. And I know with terrible dread that the final battle is upon us.

You get to your feet, a wearied but resolved look on your beautiful face. It is the look of a warrior getting ready to face what he knows is his last fight. This terrifies me, and all I can do is grit my teeth and watch as you walk to the front of the Great Hall. As you turn to face everyone, you suddenly appear so much older than your seventeen years. And all I want to do is cry out at the injustice of the world. You should be a normal teenager, but you aren't. You're the savior of the wizarding world, The Boy Who Lived. That's all you'll ever be, and that is a fate that I can't help but rage at. Why should you throw your life away for sniveling cowards who don't even know you? Why?!

Determination shines in your emerald eyes, and you open your mouth to speak. "It appears that the Dark Lord has finally come to Hogwarts. I can't reassure you with false promises that everything will be all right, because that would be a lie. Voldemort is here to do one thing, and one thing only. Kill me and destroy anyone who is not on his side. I won't ask you to join me, but today I will go out there and do my best to save the wizarding world one last time. If I die, I just want you to remember one thing. No matter how bad things get, no matter how hopeless things may seem, evil will never triumph. It can't, simply because the light is always there to banish it back to where it came from. Believe in yourselves, and the Dark Lord will fall. Thank you."

With that, you leave the room amid the frightened whispers of the other students. A tear trickles down my cheek, and I realize I have never been more proud of you than at this very moment. I wipe my eyes and stand up, my heart hard with the knowledge that Voldemort must die or we will never be free.

When I see the scared faces of everyone else, anger courses through my veins. How dare they huddle about like terrified little rabbits? "You bloody fools! Harry Potter is going out there to give his live for you wretched people, and all you do is sit around like sniveling cowards? How dare you!"

My eyes blazing with fury at the stupidity of mankind, I stalk out of the Great Hall. Your two friends, Weasley and Granger get up to follow me and I can sense their surprise and anger. Surprise at me for standing up for you, and anger at the other students as well.

"I thought you'd be rooting for the Dark Lord to kill Harry," Hermione says as she scurries beside me.

I turn to glare at her. "Never. Voldemort is a pompous fool who thinks he can rid the world of the people who outnumber us one thousand to one. We will never be free of muggles, and it is stupid to even try."

Ron mutters, "I knew it was too good to be true you'd actually want to help Harry because it's the right thing to do."

"Oh, do shut up, weasel. You know nothing of my reasons for helping Potter, and you never will. So don't assume things that aren't true!" I find myself yelling at the freckle-faced boy.

Furiously, I stride even faster to the entrance to Hogwarts. The sounds of chanting Death Eaters already rings in my ears, and I shiver in apprehension. By the sound of it, at least two hundred Death Eaters must be out there!

When I burst through the door, I stop in my tracks and stare in horror. Death Eaters are spread across the front lawn, their hoods thrown back to reveal their identities. They don't need to hide anymore, this is the final battle. Either they'll lose and be killed or arrested, or they'll win and be free.

My eyes scan the assembled followers of the Dark Lord, and a gasp escapes my mouth. Lucius Malfoy, my father, is standing to the right of Voldemort, and evil leer on his face. He looks drawn, his cheeks hollow and shadowed from his days of being a prisoner in Azkaban.

His eyes turn to rest upon me, and I can feel the hatred burning in the depths of those silver orbs. He knows that I have betrayed him and the Dark Lord, knows that I am not the obedient little son he left behind. And I know deep in my heart that he will kill me for my perfidy. I am no son to him any longer.

Snapping my eyes away from my father, I see you standing not ten feet away. Your legs are braced apart, your robe flung away from your sides and your wand gripped tightly in one hand. You are ready for the coming battle, possibly the only one of us against Voldemort who is.

But I find that I was wrong when the students of Hogwarts fan out behind me, their wands held in trembling hands. They are afraid, we all are, but they are there and they are ready. I take my wand out of my robe pocket and hold it ready, as well. This is it, the battle for the wizarding world is about to begin.

Suddenly, the Dark Lord's voice hisses loudly in the chill morning air. "Surrender, you foolish children. You have no hope of defeating me."

"Ah, but there is always hope. Didn't you learn that already?" Your strong voice calls out to the darkest wizard to grace the world in centuries.

A malevolent chuckle escapes Lord Voldemort, and I shudder at the awful, rasping sound. "Harry Potter, a pleasure to see you again. Fortunately for me, this is the last time I shall have to look upon your wretched face."

I inwardly scowl at this. Your face is certainly not wretched, not even close! Unconciously, I move closer to you so that I stand only two feet diagonally behind you. My father notes this, and his face darkens in fury. There will be hell to pay for this later, and it is certain that I will not live through this disobedience.

"Yes, the last battle. Are you prepared to be defeated for good?" You taunt, an hard gleam in your emerald eyes.

A laugh is the response you get, and Voldemort raises his arm. "It is time to destroy this nuisance once and for all! Do what you will, my loyal followers!"

Oh shit. I'd hoped we would have a little more time before the actually battle began. My heart seizes because I know that this is the final battle. Death has arrived, and is feeling greedy. Many lives will be lost this day, and I fear that yours and mine will be among them.

You raise your arm and yell to the students gathered behind us, "Use any means at your disposal to defeat them! Do not lose faith! We will triumph!"

But will we, Potter? Will we triumph? Because I very much fear that this is but a foolhardy dream that will never come true. How can a bunch of frightened students go against some of the most powerful wizards in the world, DARK wizards, and survive, let alone defeat them?

One of the Death Eaters, Mr. Goyle, throws a hex at you and you easily dodge it. Nonetheless, my heart jumps into my throat. This is only the first of a barrage of hexes and curses, and you won't be able to dodge all of them.

"Expelliarmis!"

"Stupefy!"

"Crucio!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Curses and defense charms blast across the lawn as the two sides rush to meet each other. People are dropping left and right on both sides, and I feel grateful for the fact that we'll at least hurt a few Death Eaters before we're defeated.

Snape is standing a dozen feet to the right of me, and I can see the battle-fury in his dark eyes. He knows the best of the dark arts, and isn't hesitating in using them against his former allies. The Death Eaters are enraged to find out he isn't with them, and this brings a smile to my face. At least I'm not the only traitor.

"Detriarmus!" I shout out after I see a first year fall to the ground, dead. It horrifies me, to see an eleven year old child struck down mercilessly like that.

Like my godfather, I also know quite a bit of the dark arts. This is all thanks to my father, the charming and very evil Lucius Malfoy. It gives me an advantage, a small one, but an advantage nonetheless.

Granger is to the left of me, her blouse torn and her face bleeding. Her nose looks broken, and she is cradling her left arm to her side awkwardly. Rage is clear in her brown eyes, and I see the reason. Ginny Weasley is laying limp and broken on the ground, blood pooling from her head. Her brother is kneeling by her side, tears streaming down his freckled face.

"Avada Kedavra!" she screams, striking one of the Death Eaters straight-on. I am suprised she knows the killing curse and is willing to use it. Not many people have guts to use that terrible curse.

My attention in suddenly sparked on a scene unfolding right in front of me. My father has his wand pointed at you, and a red light comes out of it. It strikes you in the side, and a blackened wound appears. Agony churns through me at the sight. I know what curse my father used. It is a lesser known killing curse. And with the size of the wound on your side, you'll die soon. It's a miracle you're even still standing!

"Harry!" I scream out, unrealizing that I had just called you by your first name for the very first time.

You turn to look at me, pain shining in the depths of your green eyes. Shock also gleams there, because you've realized what I just called you.

My father has realized, too. "Draco, what did you just call him?"

My face is white as I come to stand beside the savior of the wizarding world. I slip my hand into yours and say to my father, "Harry. I called him Harry."

The look on Lucius's face is priceless, and I would've grinned if it had been under other circumstances. As it is, my father is struck from behind by none other than Professor McGonagall.

"I've always wanted to do that," she whispers, a broken look in her eyes. It is clear she is haunted by the deaths of so many cherished students. I realize that she may never recover, and that is likely everyone here will be troubled by what is happening today for the rest of their lives.

"Harry! Watch out!" Weasley's voice rings out, panic clear in it.

Dread fills my heart as I see the bogeyman of every wizard child's nightmares holding out his wand and pointing it at you. A maniacal grin in on the Dark Lord's face, and everything seems to be in slow motion as he shouts, "Avada Kedavra!"

No! It can't end like this! A green light shoots out of the polished wand, heading straight towards you, the only person I'll ever love. Without any concious thought on my actions, I throw myself in front of you. The look of resigned weariness disappears as you realize what I'm doing, and you cry out. But it is too late. The curse hits me in the right shoulder, jerking me back into you.

We tumble to the ground, a tangle of limbs. I can't move, I'm paralyzed by the pain. It is only by luck that my moving body managed to only get struck by part of the curse. Otherwise, I would already be dead. As it is, I can feel my life draining from me. Death is not far off, and creeping closer every second.

Through eyes getting blurry by tears, I see you get to your knees and face the Dark Lord. Hatred is shining in those emerald orbs, and I know what you're going to do even before you raise the wand you've picked up off the ground. It is my wand, because yours is lying broken under my body.

"Avada Kedavra," you whisper, putting all of your magic into the last spell you'll ever utter.

The man responsible for destroying any life you could've had when you were only a year old flies through the air to land on the ground ten feet away. A smoking wreckage is what's left of his body. Finally, Lord Voldemort, otherwise known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, is dead.

You collapse beside me, laying your head beside mine. A clumsy hand reaches up and attempts to brush away the tears that are streaming down my dirt-stained face. Tears are forming in your own eyes. We both know that this is the end.

"Harry...I wanted to tell you something before it was too late, but I guess I'm already too late. Just know that...I never really hated you. I-"

A finger comes up to stop me from continuing, and I stare at you with silvery eyes raining with tears of pain and love. You already know what I was about to say. How could you not, when it is there in my eyes for all to see?

"I know. I love you too, Draco. And it isn't too late. I'll be able to die peacefully now, knowing the one thing I wished for most in the world has come true."

Agony spears through my heart, and I want to cry out with the unfairness of it all. You shouldn't have to die at all! And no matter what you say, it is too late. We're dying, and it doesn't matter that we love each other. It doesn't matter! We are DYING!

A tearful smile curves your lips and you whisper, "It does matter, and you can't convince me otherwise. Yes, death will claim us and do you know what will be my last thought will be? I'll be thinking of last night. The memory of you bathed in the light of the single lamp, writhing in pleasure in my embrace...I'll be remembering what's left of yesterday, knowing that on the Other Side, we'll have an eternity of tomorrows."

Why do you know exactly the thing to erase the sorrow in my soul? The knowledge that we'll be together on the Other Side is something that fills my heart with joy. You're right, and my last thoughts will be mirroring yours. I'll be thinking of you at your peak, crying out in pleasure from my touch. We were happy then, and we'll be happy again.

"Thank...you. I...love...you..." I whisper, feeling myself being overtaken by the darkness awaiting me with open arms.

I think I see another smile cross your face, and I slip into the depths of death. And it doesn't matter. I'll see you on the Other Side, and we will be together. I am also content in the fact that in life, I had loved and been loved in return...

-----

A/N: I know this can be considered a tragedy fic. But I can't see it that way. Yes, they died. But they died with the knowledge of their love secure in their hearts. The last line says it all, I think. I normally hate fics that end in character death, but I knew as soon as I started writing that I couldn't end it any other way. That would have taken away from the brilliance of their love. Sorry to those who don't see it this way, but my heart tells me I did right in ending the fic this way.

Please review and tell me what you think. I had originally posted it under Lanen Raen, so some of you might remember the fic. A few things were fixed before I reposted it, though. Before, it had been broken up into two different fics, a prequel and a sequel. But I felt it would be better if I combined them and so I did. I hope you enjoyed this little story.

Much love, Roslyn Drycof. . .