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“Give that to me.”
Pansy sneers at me. “I don’t have to.”
“It’s mine!”
“No, it’s not. It’s ours. My mum gave it to both of us.”
“Let me have it.”
Mum puts her hand on my shoulder. “Say please, Draco. It helps.”
I shove her away and jump to my feet, glaring up at her. “I don’t have to say please! I’m a Malfoy!”
There’s a dark chuckle from behind me. “That’s my son.”
I look back at my father, flooded with a sense of accomplishment.
Tears well in Pansy’s eyes. “You’re really mean, Draco.”
I stare at her. “What?”
She sets the bowl down on the floor. “You can have it. I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.”
I frown. “Wait—why?”
She crosses her arms across her chest and tosses her braided pigtails behind her shoulders. Her dark eyes shine, wet and angry. “Because you’re a meanie. And Mummy said I shouldn’t be friends with meanies.”
Mum bustles over to pull Pansy into a hug. “Let’s go find your parents, darling.”
When they leave, I look over at my father. “Did I say something bad?”
He shakes his head. “She just doesn’t understand, Draco. You’re in the right.”
I stare at him. His eyes are closed. His nails are digging into the stone wall he leans over. He’s broken. Beaten down. Destroyed.
“None of us know how to do this without you,” I whisper.
“Yes. You do.” He looks up at me. Green eyes shining with tears. Determination etched in every line of his face. All those premature lines. No boy of seventeen should look as old as he does. Should see as much as he has. “For everyone that can’t take this chance, you have to. For Mad-Eye, and Dumbledore, and my parents, and me. Please, Draco. I can’t…I can’t say these things to anyone else. Anyone else would stop me. You know how trapped I am. So I need you to not let everyone else trap themselves, too.”
I take a long, deep breath.
I’m scared.
But so is he.
And right now, he needs me to be strong.
I nod. “I get it. I hate it, but…this is what you have to do. And the fact that you’re able to do this, no matter how much it scares you—fuck, Harry, that’s…that’s what makes you…that’s why I…”
He steps closer and puts his hands on the back of my neck. “You don’t have to say it. Not right now.”
I want to say it. Fuck, I want to. There’s so much in the air around us. So much that I don’t know what to do with. So much that I’ve never felt before. That I’ve never been allowed to feel before. I was above it. I was a king. I was a god. I was a Malfoy.
Now, I’m just a boy. A boy holding his boyfriend for what could be the last time. A boy in love. A boy, broken. Broken by love.
I rest my hands on his hips and lean down to press a soft, closed kiss to his lips. “Come back to me, Harry. If there’s any way…please, let me have this when the sun rises.”
Please.
I’m not supposed to beg. Kings don’t beg. Gods don’t say please.
But love does. Love gives. Love takes. Love asks. Love begs.
He presses his forehead against mine. “Don't let this destroy you. Whatever happens. Be the same person when the sun rises.”
Love is strong. I’m strong. He’s strong. We’re strong. We’re in love. I’m in love.
And I’ll tell him that. Eventually. After we make it through this. When we don’t have to be strong anymore.
Please.