Disclaimer- "I love him But every day I'm learning All my life I've only been pretending…" –Les Misérables

Warnings- Sad stuff

Chapter 7

Harry ran as he had never run before, crashing through the night with no heed to where he was going. Eventually, however, he calmed down and the sheer stupidity of what he had done began to crash over him. He slowed down and stopped, shivering in the moonlit night.

Feelings of guilt began to creep through him. He shouldn't have yelled at Draco like that, it wasn't his fault after all. He started to turn around, ready to rush back and apologize, but something held him back, a slight murmuring in the back of his mind: pride. He was not the sort of person who could just prance back willy-nilly and admit he was wrong, no, he'd wait until morning at least, conquer his dignity and, he though shamelessly, perhaps let Draco worry about him for a bit.

He settled down for the night in a small cave, using his magic to provide for all his needs. Needless to say, it was quite a while before he fell asleep.

He awoke groggily the next morning, vaguely wondering why he was cold and miserable. A moment later memories of the previous night crashed over him as seems to be their irritating habit. Shame tinged with anger caught in his throat and he let out a strangled cry, "Draco…" he whispered, his voice was soft but the name shot through his mind like a fiery brand.

He bolted out of the cave and was mildly surprised to find the sun hadn't risen yet. Sunday. Sunday without sun. He took off in the direction of the cabin, barely thinking. In his muddled haze it took him longer than it might to find the cabin, that could be, though, because it seemed to have turned itself invisible again. When Harry came across the glade at long last, the sun was already poking its head over the horizon in a futile competition with the soupy clouds.

He took out his wand and practically banged on the invisible structure. There was something different about it, however, when it came into view. Its edges were fuzzy and unclear as if Harry was peering at it through a foggy mirror. He tapped it once more, harder and more desperately. Reluctantly it began to come into focus, acting for all the world as if it didn't want to be found.

He burst through the door, Draco's name formed and waiting to fly from his lips. Whatever the boy was expecting, it wasn't the sight that met his shocked green eyes. He let out a strangled cry, his heart aching as it swallowed up Harry's unsaid words.

At the noise Draco looked up from where he had been furiously kissing Ginny on the couch. "Oh," he said in surprise. "It's you." Perhaps if Harry hadn't been so emotional he might have caught the hint of regret that hung, almost invisible, like a spider web over Draco's words.

"Draco…" he whispered, unbelieving. Pain shot through him as the scene began to sink in, as real as anything that had lanced through his scar over the years. The room before him began to blur.

At this point Draco had regained his composure, hardened his heart in the way only he knew how to accomplish, "What's the matter, Potter? You didn't seem too eager for my company last night."

"But we…" Harry stammered, "I…"

"Ginny on the other hand seemed quite keen on my companionship when she showed up after you, ah, departed. She seems to be a lot more accommodating than you and quite a bit more pleasant. Now, speaking of which, would you mind leaving us? You're letting a draft in."

"No, Draco! You can't…" Harry shouted. His heart shattered with every word.

"God, Potter, you're like a broken record. Didn't you hear me? You had your chance and you blew it. You're too late. That's life." With that he went back to an expecting Ginny leaving Harry shut out of his life.

Harry didn't run. He walked away, closing the door behind him. More than anything he wished he was numb, wished he could just block out all the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him. He half turned back to the door as if expecting Draco to rush out, calling him back and begging forgiveness, but of course he didn't. Reality had struck. Life had made its point.

Later, much later, Harry might realize that he had been a fool to fall so deeply in love with a person who's focuses and desires could change so suddenly, who would abandon him without hardly blinking an eyelid. Perhaps he would finally achieve the ideal apathy and move on, but at the moment the only thought that was in his head, the only sound in his ears were Draco's parting words: "Too late".

A/N: Well, that's it, no more, no happy ending. You can envision one if you would like, I certainly wouldn't object to that, but that's all I'm writing in this story. Just as a side note, 3rd semester junior year has started and I believe it belongs somewhere in the first third of Dante's Divine Comedy. I don't know if this will influence me to write more or less, I guess we'll just have to see. As always, thanks for reading.