Author: Lauren
E-mail: All4qaf@aol.com
Author's Website: www.angelfire.com/poetry/qafobsessed/index.html
Rating: PG-13 for hints at suicide.
Characters: Harry/Draco
Category: Angst
Disclaimer: They belong not to me.
Summary: There's a rooftop, two seventeen year olds and plenty of angst.
Feedback: Please feed the artist, she is starving.
A/N: The title comes from a passage in a poem by W. H. Auden:
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
~*&*~
He was standing on the roof all by himself. Looking down and being still. Harry was weaving about the towers of the castle, concealed by the invisibility cloak, when he saw him.
It was two in the morning and everyone was asleep. Or at least Harry thought they were. He thought he was the only one awake but apparently Malfoy has taken to wandering the school at night as well.
Harry swooped down and landed soundlessly on the roof less than two yards away from Malfoy. He took off his invisibility cloak and took two slow steps towards the other young man.
"Malfoy?" he asked cautiously. When there was no response, no movement at all from the other boy, Harry continued. "What are you doing here?"
Still nothing.
Harry stepped closer and lightly touched Malfoy's shoulder. "Hey..." he said quietly, coaxingly. Malfoy's head simply pivoted on his neck as he glanced lifelessly towards Harry.
"What?" he asked dully.
Harry decided not to take this opportunity lightly. Malfoy had been acting strange lately, even the other Slytherins had begun to whisper.
"What's wrong with you? You've been acting odd for weeks now. Are you okay?"
Malfoy just smiled. A simple bitter smile. One that said he was anything but okay but it's nice that someone cares.
"What's wrong?" Harry repeated.
Malfoy's eyes strayed back to the ledge he was standing at. Looking down from this height, you couldn't see the bottom. Even with the moon as bright as it was, past the edge of the roof, there was nothing. Just an endless drop.
"Would you let me show you something?" Malfoy whispered.
Harry didn't answer. He didn't know what that meant, didn't know what Malfoy wanted of him. The blond looked over again, a question in his mercurial eyes.
"Um, sure," Harry said haltingly. It was now that he noticed there was a light breeze in the air. A small current of October's breath. Letting you know that fall was near and that it would soon grow cold.
The small gust ruffled Malfoy's light and feathery hair. Harry noticed that it wasn't as shimmering as it had once been. Malfoy's hair used to sparkle. Used to glitter and shine, just like it's owner. Neither boy nor hair had appeared up to their usual standard as of late.
Malfoy lightly clasped Harry's wrist. "Come here a moment," he said with the ease of someone not in danger of falling. He moved as though it was impossible to, at any given moment, go tipping (falling, flying) off into oblivion.
Harry allowed himself to be pulled in front of Malfoy. The Slytherin's hands grasping his shoulders and holding him steady.
"Look down," Malfoy whispered. Harry did as he was told and shifted his gaze to the gaping chasm before him. All at once Malfoy's arms flew around Harry, holding him tight as Malfoy edged closer to the ledge.
Harry gasped not only from the shock of Malfoy's sudden movement but also because of his proximity to an unbarred edge. Adrenaline rushed through his veins but he did nothing as Malfoy spoke again.
"You know the way you feel right now?" he asked with a strained voice, like he was at the brink of tears. "The way your heart is beating too fast and your lungs aren't working? Too close to death to do anything, or think properly. Knowing only that one wrong move and it's over?"
Harry felt a hot drop of liquid land on his neck. Malfoy was crying.
"Do you think," Malfoy went on with a quivering voice, "that you can trust me enough not to kill you? It would be so easy to make it look like an accident." His voice sobered slightly. Malfoy took a very deep breath.
"You know the way being afraid makes your own heartbeat painful? The way you feel like someone has taken you apart and all you can do now is *hope* they put you back together, even if you know they won't?" He paused as more hot tears seeped from his eyes.
"That," he said breathlessly, "is how I feel every. Day." His arm tightened along with his words.
Harry's hand went to the side of Malfoy's head, gripping the strands of spun silver it found there. "Malfoy," he said quietly, "stop this."
Malfoy shook his head violently as more lines of tears fell from between his tightly shut eyelids. He smacked away Harry's hand. In doing this, his sleeve slipped down his arm to reveal what Harry had hoped wouldn't there.
The dark mark.
A wave of emotion washed over him. Fear and anguish and sorrow and sympathy and anger. All of it tinged with regret. He should have done something sooner. Should have cared a little more. But it all seemed too late.
"God Draco," Harry said softly, a single tear falling from behind his glasses. "I'm sorry." Draco stepped away.
Harry wavered at the ledge for a moment, unstable without any support behind him. He took a step back and then turned around.
Draco stood watching him, tear tracks stained his cheeks but he was no longer crying.
"I know you're sorry," he said finally. "So am I." Draco reached out and pressed his palm to Harry's cheek. His fingers wiped the tear from Harry's eye. "But don't you cry for me, I won't suffer much longer. That's why I'm here."
Draco went to step past Harry, heading again towards the edge of the roof. Harry's arm shot out and latched onto Draco's, just above the elbow.
"What are you doing?" he asked with rising anxiety.
Draco wrenched his arm from Harry's grasp, grabbed him by the neck and pulled his head closer.
Draco hissed his answer into Harry's ear. "I'm putting myself back together."
Harry grabbed the arm that held him in a death grip, his nails digging mindlessly into Draco's skin. Draco didn't flinch. Didn't seem to care.
"I won't let you do it. Not like this." Harry's voice was strong. Insistent. The hero come to save the damned.
"If you hold on, I'll take you with me." Draco stared into Harry's eyes expectantly. Stared with challenge and resolution and what looked almost like hope.
Harry's voice softened, as did his eyes. "Well I'm not letting go of you."
