TITLE: Black Roses
WORDS: 7,316
COMPLETED: 7/13/21
WARNING: Smut? Sort of?

  Draco Malfoy was going to kill Harry Potter. Well, he was supposed to, anyway. His father, Lucius, explained that he was to do anything that the Dark Lord asked of him. Just thinking about the Dark Lord made Draco's inner left forearm itch, remembering the permanent marking in his skin. But how could Draco do that? How could Draco kill the Chosen One? How was he supposed to execute the boy who lived? How was Draco supposed to murder the boy who owned his heart?

"You're doing it again," Harry's voice called from the opposite end of the room, the boy stretching as he stared at Draco with his emerald eyes.

"Doing what?" Draco replied, arching an eyebrow as he observed the boy standing in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor.

"Staring off into space? Dissociating? Thinking? I don't know, but you tend to always look so worried when you do it," Harry explained as Draco shook his head, getting out of his bed and approaching the boy that was in his room.

  Currently, it was one thirty in the morning on a stormy evening. The sky was black and layered with heavy rain clouds. Harry Potter was dripping water all over Draco's dark hardwood floors. All Harry had with him was his broom, which is what he used to get here. It was summer, meaning that Harry was stuck at the Dursley's once more. He found a moment to escape and took it, deciding to spend the night at Draco's house. He snuck in through Draco's balcony, a trail of water following behind him.

  Draco walked over towards his wardrobe, pulling out a pair of pajama pants and a Slytherin t-shirt, tossing the clothing to the soaked boy. Harry eyed the shirt wearily, then looked to Draco with narrowed eyes.

"That's blasphemous," Harry determined as Draco rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Then you don't get a shirt. You pick," Draco retorted out of sheer stubbornness; besides, that was a win-win scenario for the Malfoy boy: see Harry Potter in Slytherin colors or see Harry Potter shirtless. Where was the down side?

  Harry Potter was many things, but decent was not one of them. Without hesitating a beat, Harry unzipped his jeans and allowed them to fall to the floor, then proceeded to yank on the black and grey pajama pants. After that, out of sheer spite, Harry tore off his shirt and tossed it next to his pants; Harry Potter refused to wear the Slytherin shirt. Draco was content with that decision. Draco picked up Harry's clothes, opening the door to his bathroom and tossing them into the tub. He'd deal with them later.

"Well, welcome to Malfoy Manor. It's not fun and if you hear the sound of someone getting murdered, just ignore it. It happens more than you'd think," Draco explained coolly, almost as if it was an everyday occurrence. Harry then realized that it was.

"How... Charming," Harry mumbled as Draco flopped back onto his bed, feeling the silk grey sheets beneath his body.

"Something like that..." Draco murmured, patting the spot next to him on the king sized bed.

  Were Harry and Draco dating? No. Have they kissed? Also no. Did they both want to change those answers? Absolutely, they did.

  Draco frequently found himself bouncing back and forth between two head-spaces: the one where he was kissing Harry Potter and the one where he was murdering Harry Potter. Believe it or not, both of these mindscapes made him want to tear the universe apart. He hated them equally. Because the first was a display of an unattainable dream while the latter was the harsh reminder of what he was going to be forced to do.

  Harry jumped onto the other side of the bed, curling up under the silk sheets and comfortable bedspread. Draco turned off his lights using his wand, sending the room into complete darkness with the exception of the occasional flashes of lightning. The only sounds were the rain tapping against the windows, thunder, and the two boys breathing in sync.

  Draco felt something wrap around his left wrist, carefully pulling his arm towards Harry. Cold fingers began tracing over the marking that his forearm displayed, resulting in all of Draco's insides performing summersaults. Harry Potter was giving Draco Malfoy attention. It was almost too much for the Malfoy boy to handle. One hand remained over the Dark Mark while the other kept exploring Draco's skin, climbing to his shoulder and then the pad of his thumb rubbing over bare collarbone. Draco's breathing hitched.

  Slowly, Draco rolled over onto his side, finding himself staring at Harry Potter through the darkness. Harry looked up at Draco, cheeks pink and hand still pressed against his collarbone. Draco made the next move, caressing Harry's cheek and observing the forest-like eyes on the opposite side of the circular glasses lenses. Every movement felt fluid and correct, as if this should've been happening all along. Touching Harry Potter was a blessing that Draco Malfoy believed he'd never receive.

  Harry was careful as he moved both of his hands, fingers slowly moving down Draco's sternum and splaying out against the blonde boy's ribs. Harry's touch felt like flames licking at Draco's frozen skin; so wrong, yet so absolutely right. Harry's fingers kept traveling down until his fingertips met the waistband of Draco's pajama pants. That was the exact moment that Draco Malfoy just about lost every ounce of self-control that he'd worked so hard to gather.

"Potter. Stop," Draco demanded, surprising both Harry and himself. Harry was quick to retract his hands, seeming a bit alarmed that he'd upset or hurt Draco. Meanwhile, the blonde boy was so furious with himself.

"If you don't stop... Then I won't be able to stop..." Draco continued, peering directly into the other boy's eyes; Harry met his gaze, unblinking.

"Who said I wanted you to stop?" Harry mumbled as Draco felt his heart beat even faster. Harry Potter was going to be the death of him.

"Don't say things like that," Draco sternly stated as Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Why not?" Harry questioned, holding the eye contact with the other boy. Every ounce of Draco's body wanted to grab onto Harry's hands and put them back where they once were, but he wouldn't. He couldn't. He would completely drown in lust.

"Because then I will lose all self-control..." Draco admitted, and the Malfoy boy would've never believed what happened next if he hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes. Harry Potter smirked, evilly and knowingly, before placing his hands back against Draco's bare stomach, fingers traveling beneath his waistband.

  Self-control be damned.

  Draco caved, shoving Harry back against the silk sheets and climbing over top of the boy. Then they were kissing, soft and warm lips pressed together. Then Harry's tongue was licking at Draco's teeth. Meanwhile, Harry's hands found their way up into Draco's blonde hair, yanking and tugging on the different strands. Draco, on the other hand, was allowing his fingers to touch every inch of Harry's bare chest and back; index finger running down the notches of the spinal column and thumbs feeling out each and every one of the boy's ribs.

  Then clothes were being removed, tossed off the bed and considered obsolete. Clothing was no longer necessary. From there, it was mouths pressed to skin and teeth leaving trails of love bites. Harry's collarbone was going to be bruised for a few days. Hands traveled to forbidden places, the two exploring and charting one another with their fingers and mouths as if they were maps. Then there were moans whispered into one another's ears, flesh pressed to flesh, beads of sweat rolling down foreheads, and heavy panting. Afterwards, the two boys collapsed against the mattress, entangled in one another's limbs.

  Draco pushed careful kisses to Harry's sweaty forehead, meanwhile Harry attempted to catch his breath. Draco used the pad of his thumb to wipe away some of the white residue that still remained on Harry's lips; Harry licked it off Draco's finger. Harry Potter was going to be the absolute death of Draco Malfoy.

"Merlin..." Draco panted as Harry weakly laughed. Before Draco even had time to contemplate what to do next, Harry was pressing tender kisses to his lips.

  These kisses were more sweet and less heated than the others had been. Draco savored each and every one of them. If he had the ability, he'd trap this feeling and keep it with him forever. Every organ in his body felt strange, not bad and not good. Harry laced their fingers together, halting the kisses after that.

"I'm such a mess," Harry muttered with a nervous laugh, looking down at himself. Draco shut him up with another soft kiss, caressing his cheek tenderly.

"Shh... You're beautiful..." Draco replied, both boys feeling their cheeks heat up.

  The two of them curled up together, falling asleep while clinging to one another. In truth, Draco fell asleep when he felt Harry push butterfly kisses to the marking on his left forearm. It was almost as if Harry had the ability to tell how much Draco hated the Dark Mark. Throughout the night, the boys remained tangled together, arms draped over chests and under pillows, legs entwined with one another and the different layers of sheets. So much had happened that Draco was terrified he'd wake up and discover it was a dream; only, when he woke up, Harry Potter was still in his bed. Draco was grateful.

  Pulling Harry closer, Draco pressed a gentle peck to the crown of the sleeping boy's head, proceeding to just observe him in a peaceful state. But his mind quickly began to drift.

  He was supposed to murder this boy; prevent his heart from beating, stop his lungs from breathing, and turn him into a martyr. But Draco couldn't do that. He was so hopelessly in love with Harry Potter. But, if he refused, then the Dark Lord would just send someone else to do it. Draco couldn't allow that to happen, either. He had to come up with a plan of some sort. He had to come up with something. There was no way that Draco would be able to harm Harry Potter. There was no way that Draco would allow anyone to harm Harry Potter.

"You're doing it again..." Harry mumbled with a quiet laugh, grinning up at Draco. This pulled the blonde boy from his thoughts, resulting in him turning to meet the other boy's gaze.

  Draco had never seen Harry look so radiant. Harry Potter, wrapped up in nothing but Draco's limbs and bedsheets, was truly stunning. His eyes twinkled like gemstones and his skin resembled a warm caramel. With his dark hair a tousled mess, Draco felt his heart flip in his chest. Right now, Harry Potter was his. It filled the Malfoy heir's heart to the brim.

"No, I'm not," Draco denied as Harry rolled his eyes, grabbing over at the nightstand and locating his glasses. He pulled the wire-frame glasses on, giving him the ability to see Draco more clearly.

"You definitely were," Harry replied, laying his head back on his pillow and looking up at the ceiling.

"No I wasn't," Draco muttered again as Harry rolled his eyes. A weak smile settled on the blonde boy's lips, one of his hands carefully cupping one of Harry's cheeks.

  Draco drew Harry closer to him, introducing their lips once again. Kissing Harry Potter felt like a forest fire in Draco's soul; in truth, it was probably the most self-destructive thing that Draco had ever done. But everything about Harry Potter drew him in. He needed more. He had to have more. Otherwise, he was afraid he might lose it all. The kisses remained sweet, acting as tender reminders of the previous night and how much both individuals had enjoyed it.

"Draco, breakfast is ready," Narcissa Malfoy's voice spoke from the opposite side of the bedroom door, a quiet knock following it. The two boys froze instantly, separating their lips.

"And bring your guest. You're not nearly as sneaky as you may think. Your father wants to meet them," Narcissa added as Draco's heart just about stopped beating; panic was clear in both boys' eyes.

  There were soft footsteps as the female Malfoy walked away, then the boys looked to one another. Quickly, they jumped out of bed and began throwing on any clothes that they could find, tossing articles to one another in order to speed up the process. Lastly, Draco grabbed Harry's broom and threw open the balcony doors.

"You have to go," Draco urgently explained as Harry gave him an uneasy once-over.

"But—"

"No. You don't understand. You can't go down there. They... They'll kill you, Harry. They want you dead," Draco explained as quickly as he could, shoving the broomstick into the other boy's arms. Harry didn't seem surprised by this information.

"I know. But, Draco, I—"

"Just go! You don't have time," Draco explained as Harry hesitantly nodded. Before leaving, Harry pressed a rather passionate kiss to Draco's lips. It was a goodbye; at least, for the time being.

  Harry mounted his broom and kicked off the balcony, heading back in the direction of the Dursley's household. Hopefully he made it back alright. Draco exhaled a shaky sigh, hoping that everything worked out alright.

  He'd see Harry again soon, that much he knew. School was starting in a couple of weeks, so hopefully everything went smoothly until then. All Draco could do was hope.

• • •

  Draco Malfoy was going to kill Harry Potter. Either that or Harry was going to manage to kill him first. The boys were back at Hogwarts, which was a huge relief to Draco. The absence of Harry Potter now felt like a void inside of him, reminding him of what he once had, but could possibly never have again. It was almost a haunting feeling.

  But Draco's biggest fear had come true: he was tasked with killing Harry Potter this year. Everything inside of the Slytherin boy ached. He knew that he couldn't. There was no way he would ever harm Harry. But he had to take on this job. He had to warn Harry.

  The two boys were hiding out in the tunnel that led to Honeydukes, wanting to be alone for a while. It was around eleven at night, Filch and Mrs. Norris roaming the halls in search for students who were out past curfew. But the boys knew that they'd never be found here.

"I promise it'll all be okay... We'll work this out..." Harry whispered as Draco nodded, silent tears trekking down the Slytherin's cheek. Harry wiped them away, keeping his attention focused on the boy's eyes.

  Draco had told Harry everything. And Harry silently listened, soaking in all the information and storing it within his own mind. Draco was gripping tightly onto Harry's robes, sheer terror in his tone as he spoke. Finally, the Gryffindor boy shushed the Slytherin, wanting him to calm down a bit. Draco went silent, taking a few deep breaths in order to feel a bit more at peace.

"We'll go talk to Hermione tomorrow, okay? And she'll help us figure something out," Harry promised, caressing Draco's cheek and smiling weakly up at him. The blonde boy nodded, knowing that he didn't have any better ideas. And he was desperate.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Never. They can kill me for disobeying if they'd like. But there's no way in hell I could bring myself to harming you," Draco expressed as Harry shook his head, as if silently rejecting that response.

"Shh... We're both going to be okay. Hermione will help us come up with something," Harry explained as Draco closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing.

  Harry knew that Draco needed a distraction; after all, being locked away in Malfoy Manor all summer wasn't good for his mental health. Harry brought his lips to the Slytherin's throat, kissing at the flawless white flesh that covered Draco Malfoy's entire body. Draco inhaled a sharp breath, tilting his head back while feeling Harry's teeth bite at the skin.

  Harry Potter was going to kill Draco Malfoy. It was almost as if the Gryffindor boy knew the exact way to pick Draco apart while only using his teeth, lips, and tongue. Each and every single time that this happened, Draco practically fell apart; and Harry knew that, therefore he did it frequently.

"Are you sure Granger will come up with something?" Draco asked as Harry sighed, backing a breath away from the blonde boy's neck.

"Yeah. She's good at coming up with solutions to problems. So stop worrying and just close your eyes," Harry demanded as Draco slowly nodded, doing as he was told.

  Draco felt his back hit the wall, Harry's hands splayed over the Slytherin's chest and pushing him back. Immediately after he hit the wall, Harry's lips were back to dancing over Draco's flesh. Goosebumps spread all over the blonde's pale skin, Harry's fingers skating over the many bumps. The Slytherin boy picked his head up, turning his gaze down to the Gryffindor boy and capturing his lips with his own.

  Even after a week of running around in the castle with Harry Potter, Draco still hadn't got enough kisses from the Gryffindor boy. Draco was more than well aware of the fact that he was selfish, but he truly didn't think he could get enough kisses from Harry.

"You should stay with me tonight... I know you're not feeling well with everything that's been put on your shoulders. I don't want you to be alone with your dark thoughts," Harry explained, his intoxicating green eyes shining with worry. Draco nodded, knowing that both of them wanted that.

"Okay," Draco whispered, pushing a soft kiss to Harry's forehead before the two of them grabbed onto one another's hands, heading towards Gryffindor Tower.

Sneaking through the halls beneath an Invisibility Cloak seemed to be the best method of travel through the castle at night. Draco thought it was amazing, finding the mechanisms of the cloth to be far beyond impressive. It only seemed fitting that Harry Potter would own it, seeing as it was amazing and useful. Once they made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry muttered the password and they slipped inside.

There were still some students milling around the common room. Two of which were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Some of the others included: Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Fred and George Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and Ginny Weasley. Harry froze, Ron and Hermione looking up at where they were standing. These two knew about the cloak, so they had to know that Harry had just come through the door.

Harry tightened his grasp on Draco's hand, pulling the Slytherin up towards his dorm room. When they made it to the correct room, Harry tore off the cloak and glanced around in a panicked state.

"Sit on the bed and keep the cloak on. Hermione and Ron are going to come in any moment now," Harry warned as Draco nodded, doing as he had been told.

Sure enough, the other two members of their trio walked in, seeming relieved when they saw Harry. Hermione closed the door to the dorm while Ron stepped towards Harry. As Draco watched, he realized that Harry Potter was terrible at lying.

"There you are! You just disappeared and we had no idea where you went! Where were you?" Ron asked as Harry turned his focus to the redhead.

"I was just exploring," Harry lied as Hermione arched an eyebrow. Why did Harry Potter have to be the worst liar known to mankind?

"Without the Marauders Map?" Hermione questioned as Harry seemed to be stumped. Draco was going to punch him.

"What were you really doing?" Ron asked as Harry sighed. He took a quick glance in Draco's direction before looking back to the other two.

"If I tell you, promise me you won't get upset," Harry requested as Draco rolled his eyes.

"We won't get upset. Unless you were, like, hanging out with Malfoy or something," Ron joked, both him and Hermione sharing a laugh at the absurdity of that situation ever occurring; Harry didn't laugh with them. He froze up, actually.

Harry gripped onto the end of the cloak, yanking it off Draco and leaving him exposed for the others to see. They pair stopped laughing immediately. Then they were looking to Harry with shock, not believing what they were seeing. Draco leaned back, observing the scene with an amused expression on his face.

"I didn't know you were such an atrocious liar, Potter," Draco mused with a small smirk. Harry shot him a glare; Draco elected to ignore it.

"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" Ron demanded, quickly looking between the two boys who he believed could explain. Neither one of them really wanted to.

"He needs help," Harry decided, choosing to make that work. The other two seemed far beyond confused with that statement. After all, why should the trio help Draco?

"What could he possibly need our help with? In case you've forgotten, Harry, he's... He's one of them," Ron spoke as Draco rolled his eyes; never in his life had Draco met someone as blatantly rude as Ron Weasley.

"I haven't forgotten. Believe me. He told me about some of the things they're planning, and—"

"And I'm supposed to kill Potter. This year. Granger, how can we work around that?" Draco jumped in, really desperate for a viable solution to his problem.

Ron and Hermione blinked a few times, not quite sure how to process all the information that was being given to them. Hermione looked between Harry and Draco, seeming rather confused about the sudden alliance between the pair. Meanwhile Ron looked completely lost about everything.

"You mean... You don't want to kill Harry?" Ron muttered as Draco closed his eyes and exhaled a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Harry looked over at Draco, seeming a bit concerned for the Slytherin's mental well-being.

"If I wanted to kill Harry, I would've done it already. And I definitely wouldn't be here, asking for your help," Draco muttered as Harry sat down next to the blonde boy.

"Do you think you could come up with something, Hermione?" Harry asked gently, keeping his eyes trained on the female while the other two boys glared at one another.

"Of course I can. I'll go do some research right now. When are you supposed to kill him? Like, when is your deadline?" Hermione questioned, looking to Draco for the answers.

"By Christmas," Draco quietly admitted, looking down at the floor.

"I'll help. We'll make this work, Harry. Don't worry about it," Hermione promised as Harry showed her a weak smile and nodded.

"Believe me, Hermione, I'm probably the least worried about this. I know you'll come up with a solution," Harry replied with a smile, taking a small glance at Draco before fixing his eyes back on the female. She was grinning widely, glad to hear that he had confidence in her.

"I'll head down to the library now. Do you need the cloak or can I use it?" She asked as Harry tossed it to her. She caught it with ease, wrapping it around herself and completely vanishing.

"Take Ron with you. You might need some help carrying all the books back," Harry pointed out as Hermione opened the cloak, gesturing for Ron to follow. Ron Weasley was a bit hesitant, eyes shifting between Draco and Hermione rapidly. He didn't trust this situation.

"Be careful, Harry. You know how he can be..." Ron mumbled; Harry shrugged it off. Ron and Hermione left the room, heading towards the library.

  Harry gestured for Draco to lay down in his bed, closing the curtains around the four-poster bed. Then Harry crawled in, the two boys cuddling up together.

"You're sure Granger will find a solution?" Draco nervously murmured into Harry's hair.

"Absolutely..." Harry replied quietly.

  And that was that. Draco would trust Harry's judgment, no matter how nervous that made him. He trusted Harry Potter. Worst case scenario, Draco just wouldn't do anything and would allow the Dark Lord to kill him before he allowed anything to happen to Harry. Draco wasn't going to kill Harry. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

• • •

  Draco Malfoy was going to kill Harry Potter. That was Hermione Granger's grandiose plan. After hearing the plan, Draco was only moments away from punching something. How could that be the plan? That's the worst plan that had ever been conceived. Thankfully, even Ron Weasley seemed a bit hesitant with this idea.

"How is Malfoy killing Harry supposed to stop Malfoy from killing Harry?" Ron questioned, looking between Harry and Hermione, who were both acting like this was a brilliant idea.

"For once, I'm in agreement with Weasley. This is a rather shit plan," Draco muttered as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You two are so dense. Obviously there are other steps to this procedure. Malfoy, how good are your acting skills?" Hermione questioned as Draco arched a curious eyebrow.

"Um... I suppose they're alright," Draco replied as Hermione nodded, turning her attention back towards Harry.

"Then I think this will work. Draco, you're going to kill Harry in front of everyone. Your father, the Dark Lord, and all the other Death Eaters. Got it? We'll handle the rest," Hermione promised as Draco slowly blinked at her.

"I will do no such thing. How is that supposed to help anything?" Draco demanded as Harry locked eyes with him, silently expressing that everything was going to be okay. But nothing felt okay. How could they all act like this was okay?

"Draco... Just trust us. Trust me, okay? This will work," Harry muttered as Draco held eye contact with the Gryffindor boy who had just spoken.

  Ron and Hermione took confused glances at one another. Why would Draco Malfoy listen to anything that Harry Potter said? Why would Draco trust Harry? The two boys hated one another, their rivalry practically known throughout the whole school. What had changed between the two of them?

"Okay..." Draco muttered, inhaling a shaky breath before looking over at Hermione.

"Just... Use the killing curse?" Draco mumbled as Hermione nodded.

"That's correct. I just need you not to worry about Harry, alright? We'll make sure he's alright," Hermione promised as Draco nodded.

"Okay. That's it. What the bloody hell is going on? Malfoy isn't our friend. He never has been. You hang out with him a bit at the end of last year, then you go on summer break, and suddenly you two are best friends?" Ron questioned, finally snapping. The redhead was staring at Harry, but would occasionally take untrusting glances in Draco's direction.

  Draco and Harry looked to one another, uncertain what they should say. Without jurisdiction, Harry sighed and looked back at his two best friends, both of which were awaiting a response. How could he lie to them? Why should he? No matter what they thought of the situation, it was going to keep happening. Draco and Harry didn't need Ron and Hermione's permission.  Acceptance would be nice, but they had to deal with it either way. And Harry was tired of having to beat around the bush with conversations regarding Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy isn't my friend. He's my boyfriend," Harry stated, silence filling the room.

  Ron and Hermione looked as if they'd been ready for any answer, except for that one. The two of them were wide eyed, jaws dangling open while staring at Harry Potter. Meanwhile Draco was smirking, loving the sound of Harry Potter calling him his boyfriend. Were they boyfriends? Draco hoped so. That meant Harry was all his. And Draco loved being selfish and possessive. He wanted Harry Potter all to himself.

"Way to break the news, Potter. Besides, when did we agree on boyfriends? I must have missed that meeting," Draco replied with a smirk, watching Harry's cheeks go red. It was far too much fun to pick fun at Harry Potter; he made it too easy, as well.

"Hold on. What?!" Ron stammered, blinking rapidly before shifting his focus between Draco and Harry.

"Yeah," Harry replied casually, looking down at his feet as Draco beamed with pride. He wanted one of them to say something rude. He wanted it to be Weasley. Draco Malfoy could fully envision himself punching Ron in the jaw; it was almost a comforting thought.

"Um... We didn't know that—"

"You're gay?" Ron questioned as Hermione smacked his arm for being so blunt. Draco narrowed his eyes, arching an eyebrow.

"Is there something wrong with that, Weasley?" Draco demanded, sitting up a bit. Ron opened his mouth to speak again, but Hermione slapped her hand over his lips to prevent him from speaking.

"No! Of course not," Hermione quickly answered for Ron, but Draco refused to look away from the Weasley boy.

"I just... I didn't know..." Ron muttered, seeming to be hesitant with that reply. Harry was looking down at the floor, almost as if he could tell that Ron wasn't being truthful; either that, or Ron wasn't too sure how to process the new information.

"Get out..." Draco seethed, pointing towards the door of the room that they'd been in. Ron left without waiting, meanwhile Hermione hesitated. She seemed to want to say something else, but she decided not to as she followed her boyfriend out of the room.

Draco grabbed onto Harry's hands, squeezing them tightly and pushing a kiss to the crown of his head. The blonde boy was determined to do anything within his power to protect and comfort the Gryffindor boy. Rather than speaking, Harry rested his skull against Draco's chest, needing to stabilize himself. The Slytherin allowed it, running his pale fingers through Harry Potter's dark hair.

  Nothing bad was going to befall Harry Potter. Not if Draco Malfoy got a say in the matter...

• • •

  Draco Malfoy was going to kill Harry Potter. Standing before the Dark Lord, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, many members of the Old Families, and all the Death Eaters; Draco attempted to funnel all his trust in Hermione Granger. Did he know the remainder of the plan? No. And he wasn't going to know until it happened.

  Harry Potter stood before him, both of their wands up and pointed at one another. Meanwhile their eye contact was unwavering, filled to the brim with anxiety and terror. They both hoped that this was going to work. It had to work. They didn't have any other options.

"Well, Young Malfoy. End him. End their pathetic resistance," The Dark Lord emphasized as Draco sucked in a shaky breath, refusing to look away from the forest green eyes that he's loved since his third year at Hogwarts.

  Harry sent Draco a brief nod, demanding that he do it. But Draco felt a weight hit his heart. This would hurt the Chosen One. Draco Malfoy would be killing his boyfriend. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. But he had to. Everyone here knew that he had to.

"Draco..." Lucius growled, worried his son was going to back out of preforming the deed. But, no matter how much the blonde boy didn't want to do this, he knew he was going to.

  Draco closed his eyes, sucking in a shaky breath before pulling his wand back. His mind was racing, so many conflicting thoughts crossing his brain. What if he didn't? What if he did? Would Hermione really come through? What if something happened? What if he really killed off Harry Potter? But what if he didn't? The Malfoy heir couldn't handle the anticipation.

"Avada Kedavra!" Draco bellowed, green light emitting from his wand. The beam shot out, striking Harry square in the chest.

  Draco would never forget it. The breath was knocked out of Harry's lungs, forcing him to go lifeless. His eyes stilled, opened wide; no horror lurked within his emerald eyes, instead all that remained there was expectation and perhaps even pride. Harry Potter shed no tears; he truly was the last person who was worried about his well-being in this exchange. Every single joint locked up instantly, resulting in him collapsing back. He was dead immediately.

  Tears freely rolled down Draco's cheeks, finding himself unable to look away from his boyfriend's lifeless corpse.

"Wonderful! You did wonderfully, son," The Dark Lord remarked as Draco attempted to blink his tears away. He shifted his attention towards the cheering Death Eaters, blinking a few times.

"Avada Kedavra!" Draco yelped again, the green blast hitting the unsuspecting Dark Lord. Was that part of the plan? No. Was it a direct result of Draco's jumbled emotions? Most definitely. But it worked nonetheless.

Everyone froze as the Dark Lord's lifeless and unsuspecting corpse hit the ground. Terror filled everyone's eyes as they watched the Malfoy heir. Maybe it was the fact that he thought Harry wasn't coming back. How could he? Harry was a corpse. Perhaps it was the fact that he was the one who killed the Chosen One. That also messed with his head. Maybe he was just sick and tired of the war that was taking place around him. After all, the war was affecting anyone and everyone.

  A huff escaped Draco's lips, exhaustion settling over him. Then grief. And the grief stuck to his heart like tar. His mind was plagued with thoughts of his dead boyfriend.

• • •

  Draco Malfoy had killed Harry Potter.

  Black roses littered Draco's mind. The concept and symbolism of the black rose was something rather common. Sorrow. Betrayal. Grief. Revenge. Death. There were many more, but those were the few bouncing around Draco's skull. Staring at these flowers scattered over Harry Potter's gravestone caused each and every feeling to sink in.

  To many, Harry Potter had been brutally murdered. To many, Harry Potter was killed by his enemy. To many, Harry Potter was never coming back. To many, Harry Potter had been killed without reason. To Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter had been betrayed. Betrayed and killed by his boyfriend.

  Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley stood at Draco's side, both of them looking at the gravestone. Neither of them wept. In fact, neither of them even seemed upset as they looked down at the stone. Hermione held a bundle of red and gold lilies, making sure they were in Gryffindor colors. She was gentle as she set them down at his grave.

"Why are we here?" Draco demanded. He'd refused to come here. He'd refused to go to the funeral. No one would want him there. No one should want him there. He'd killed Harry.

"Because the plan isn't over yet. I told you that. I told you to trust me," Hermione explained as Draco narrowed his eyes down on her.

"I fucking killed him, Hermione. Unless you lot have some spectacular way to bring people back from the dead, then we're wasting our time," Draco seethed; Hermione and Ron visibly flinched from his tone of voice.

"Draco, I promised you," She softly reminded him as he wearily watched her.

  Draco picked up one of the black roses, inspecting it closely. This particular rose came from a bouquet that had been left by Bill Weasley. Just looking at it pricked Draco's heart. All of this was because Draco blindly trusted others. He knew he shouldn't have. He should've questioned Harry and Hermione about the plan. But he didn't. Instead, Harry told Draco to trust him. And Draco had.

"Yeah? Then what's the end of this? What happens now? Do we just live in a world without Harry Potter? Because that's not a world I'm going to live in," Draco explained to the pair.

"Let's not do anything rash. Draco... He's okay," Ron spoke as a laugh forced its way out of Draco's throat.

"You're hilarious, Weasley. Now that we've picked fun at my trauma, am I allowed to go home?" Draco demanded. He was getting irritated and these two weren't making anything better. In fact, he was convinced he might punch one of them over Harry Potter's grave.

  Distant footsteps were heard heading their way, resulting in the three individuals turning their attention from one another and towards whoever was approaching. Draco's brain seemed to reset when he recognized the person. Because it was impossible. Unfeasible, even. For a moment, Draco wondered if he'd hit his head on anything. Then he immediately shifted his attention back towards Hermione.

"Explain. Right now," Draco demanded as Hermione weakly smiled at the individual.

"How do you feel?" She asked as Ron blinked, his jaw dangling wide open. 

"I feel... Like me..." Harry Potter replied, smiling at the three of them. Hermione was the first to sprint towards him, enveloping him in a tight hug. He was quick to return the affection. Then Ron ran up and joined them.

"Surely you've heard of the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione questioned, releasing Harry and meeting Draco's intense stare. The Slytherin wasn't letting his guard down.

"Of course," Draco replied as Ron and Harry began talking.

"Obviously there's the Elder Wand and the Invisibility Cloak. But the one that many tend to forget is the Resurrection Stone. We found it. And, well... We used it to get Harry back," Hermione explained as Draco blinked a couple times, then shifted his attention over towards Harry; the Chosen One was already looking back at him.

"So... You're really—"

"It's really me. And I'm really okay," Harry softly promised Draco. And then Draco was done being hesitant.

  Sprinting forwards, Draco grabbed onto Harry as if it would kill him to let go. Harry pulled Draco in, both of them silently crying while gripping onto one another. Then they were kissing, not caring about Ron and Hermione watching them. Draco held onto both of Harry's cheeks, keeping him close.

"You scared the shit out of me..." Draco breathed as Harry weakly laughed, pushing more and more tender kisses to his boyfriend's lips.

"I'm sorry..." Harry quietly apologized.

"But now I'm considered dead. The only people who are going to know I'm not is you three and the Weasley family. I can't do that to Molly. And, Draco, we're going to get out of here. Forget about that nonsense Chosen One bullshit. It's us now. We'll live off the grid somewhere," Harry breathed as Draco grinned, absolutely loving the sound of that.

"That sounds perfect, Love... And don't worry about the war. I kind of... Ended it," Draco nervously muttered as Harry's eyes widened.

"How?" Harry demanded as Draco looked down at his feet.

"I may or may not have killed Voldemort immediately after I..." Draco trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence. Not wanting to think about what he'd done to Harry Potter.

  Harry silenced him by pushing more gentle kisses to his lips. Draco was so far beyond glad that Harry knew he didn't want to talk about it. So, instead, they just kept kissing.

  Then they were making plans about where they would live and whether or not they should get a pet (it was a split consensus; Harry and Ron thinking yes and Draco and Hermione thinking that maybe they should start with a plant). There was so much hugging and excitement shared between the group as they continued to plan everything out.

  For now, though, they were okay. Everything was okay, even if it was just for a moment. Better yet, they were together. And that was all they could truly ask for as they made their way out of the cemetery.

• • • B O N U S • • •

  Draco Malfoy was going to kill Harry Potter. Trifling through the floral lunchbox set out on the counter, Draco pulled out a wide variation of different chocolates and sugary foods. Along with that, there was a soft drink and a juice box. What the hell was going on? This wasn't a meal.

"Potter, what the bloody hell is this?" Draco demanded, looking up at the two individuals who were standing near the front door. Both of them were putting on shoes and coats.

"Hmm? Oh, that's Lily's lunch," Harry responded, gesturing over towards the little girl standing at his side.

  Ten-year-old Lily Malfoy-Potter had been adopted by the pair a few years back. The couple deemed that they'd never get married, but still proceeded throughout their adult lives as if they were. Lily was adopted five years after the boys finished Hogwarts. She completed their little family (though, there was discussion on whether or not they should adopt another).

  Lily was a young girl who was brimming with life. Her skin was a pasty white, covered in splatters of freckles. A long mess of red hair flowed down her back. Meanwhile her eyes were almost the same color as honey. Lily was absolutely everything that the two boys needed. Better yet, she was their little girl. They loved her as such.

"No. This is Lily's lunchbox. Not her lunch. Lily doesn't live off chocolate, Potter. She needs other foods in order to stay healthy," Draco explained as if he was speaking to a toddler; Lily giggled at the tone her father was using.

"But, Daddy, that's not fair! Papa and I packed my lunch together!" Lily insisted as Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, Daddy, we packed it together," Harry replied in a smug tone, his eyes fixed on Draco. Draco narrowed his eyes down on his lover, feeling as though he should punch him.

"Don't think I won't still kill you, Potter. Lily, darling, you can't live off of just chocolate. I'll pack you something that you'll like and that'll be good for you, okay?" Draco explained as the little girl hummed, but finally nodded in agreement.

  Lily ran to her room to grab her backpack as Draco began repacking her lunch. He decided that he'd leave the juice box and one of the snack foods, but removed the rest. Then he added a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a bag of chips. Lastly, he slid in a green apple.

"You and your damn apples," Harry joked with a small laugh as Draco rolled his eyes.

"You and your unwanted ability to turn me on," Draco replied, referring to a previous moment in their conversation. Harry smirked.

"Admit it, Malfoy. You like it," Harry taunted with a wink.

"I definitely do. But that doesn't mean that it's needed when you're about to leave for work," Draco pointed out as Harry laughed; the blonde boy rolled his eyes.

"Do you need me to go in late so we can do something?" Harry poked as Draco felt his cheeks warm up.

"Yes please," Draco requested.

"After you take Lily to the bus," Draco added as Harry nodded.

  When Lily trampled back down the steps, Harry walked her out the front door. Then he came back inside for his lover. And Draco accepted him with open arms.

  Revenge, death, betrayal, sorrow, and grief would always haunt Draco Malfoy. No matter how hard her tried, he couldn't seem to get rid of those emotions. Black roses. When he looked at Harry Potter, he always felt one of these emotions; no matter how prominent or dull, the feeling was always there.

  In the end, the truth was a rather simple concept. Sure, Draco Malfoy might have literally killed Harry Potter, but it was never Draco who was the threat. In the end, it would always be Harry Potter. Harry Potter would be the one to metaphorically kill Draco Malfoy. Never the other way around.