Broken

Author's Note: This story starts the same way as my other story Outcast does, but it is MUCH shorter and VERY different. Please R & R! Thanks. Hearts, erinmalfoy

Draco sat, alone, in a giant green arm chair in a hotel room. He stared out the window, looking but not seeing, listening but not hearing. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts his life had gone further and further downhill. He was an Outcast and half the Wizarding World hated him. Correction, all of the Wizarding World hated him.

At first, living amongst the Muggles was difficult, but Draco had gotten good at it. He moved hotels every two nights, never staying anywhere for long. He was constantly alone, never letting himself get to know anyone. He figured life was better when you only had to care for yourself.

Draco had sold many of his family's possessions, giving him enough Muggle-money to live in luxury like he always had, but it was never a comfort.

It was nights like these, that made Draco question the empty life he had chosen. He felt so alone, so helpless, sitting by himself in a room with a bed big enough for two. And it was nights like these that made Draco think back to his years at Hogwarts. And that is what hurt the most. Because Draco couldn't think about Hogwarts, without thinking of Harry.

Draco repositioned himself in the arm chair. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. His once clear Dark Mark had begun to fade, but it was still there, nonetheless. A constant reminder of the wrong choices Draco had made. And of course, when thinking of wrong choices, Draco thought the worst one he had made was keeping his feelings secret.

He had never kissed Potter. Never held his hand. He had bullied him and hurt him instead. Draco could have killed himself over it. He had thought about ending his life countless times, but he would never actually do it. He was a bloody coward.

Draco often daydreamed about Harry and often wondered what he was up to. he still read the Daily Prophet when he could, but it was hard to get hold of. When he was lucky enough to get a copy, he scanned it for news about Harry. For many years, no such news came. Until this very night, where Draco sat alone in his hotel room. But the news didn't come from the Daily Prophet. In fact, Draco had walked straight into Harry himself.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, not looking at who he ran into. When he looked up from the paper he was reading, he gasped and a wave of emotions over took his body as he saw who it was.

Draco never expected to see Harry here. In a hotel in the middle of Russia. Draco had actually been thinking of Harry, like usual, and running into him nearly stopped his heart. He didn't let it show though. Looking up, Draco saw that Harry was having trouble grasping the fact that he had just run into an out-lawed wizard. Draco smirked and stared straight into Harry's eyes challenging him to break the gaze. Draco was surprised by the man's actions; Harry just stood there. But it was what Harry had said that surprised Draco the most.

"Draco…" Harry had whispered.

This broke the former-Slytherin's mask. It caught him off guard, but not for long. Quickly rebuilding his barriers, he placed his usual smirk back on his face.

"Potter," he said smoothly, not letting Harry realize what he was thinking.

"Where's the Weaslette?" Draco suddenly spat. He knew Harry and her had been dating at Hogwarts and assumed they were still now. The thought made him sick.

"Dead."

This Draco had not been expecting. He felt his defenses fall as his mouth opened in shock.

"I'm so…Harry, I didn't know…I - I'm…" Draco stuttered. He saw a quick flash of pain shoot across the raven-haired boy's face.

"It was after your family left," Harry began, recalling the moment.

"Don't," Draco said. "Don't tell me if it hurts to remember."

Harry merely smiled weakly and continued.

"Voldemort was cruel. It was when he was about to kill me that it happened. He was in mid-sentence when he turned, trying to humiliate and break me by killing yet another one of my friends. The spell hit Ginny, he then re-fired at me, the spell backfired and he himself died," Harry finished weakly.

"You loved her?" Draco had meant it to be a statement, but it came out as a question.

"No," Harry replied, smiling weakly. "I loved someone else."

At that moment both boys stood in peace. There was no fighting. There were no problems. It was almost as if they were friends. But then, Harry seemed to remember himself.

"What's it to you, anyway, Malfoy?" he shot stonily at Draco. Draco felt his heart crumple. The defenses he had learned to keep strong collapsed. A single tear ran down his cheek. Harry had never seen the blonde like this. So fragile, so broken. He followed Draco's tear to where it hit the floor and immediately began to try and fix the damage.

"Malf – err – Draco…I'm sorry, I…" But when he looked up, Draco was already gone.

Rushing, Draco climbed up to the roof. Breathing heavily, he wiped away his tears, a stony, determined look on his face. He wanted to do this quickly, before he changed his mind. He was tired of being alone, tired of living with nothing but regrets, tired of being an Outcast, tired of Harry. When he reached the door to the roof, he threw it open without hesitation. He then made his way over to where the small rail stopped people from falling off. Muggles are so stupid, thought Draco. Anyone who wanted to just had to climb on top of the bar and jump. Some safety procedure.

For a moment, Draco just stood there. Then, he positioned one foot on the bar and hoisted himself up.

Below him, people and cars looked like ants. He could just make out the details of people from the car headlights, shining on them, breaking the shadow of the night. Mustering up all the courage he had, Draco prepared to jump. Not courage, he corrected himself. This was not a brave thing to do, it was cowardly. Draco knew it was but he was going to do it anyway. His heart was broken, his soul was broken and it was time that a broken body accompanied his broken life.

With one deep breath, Draco took a small step forward; a leap of faith. And then, he was falling.

A body. That's what it was. Cautiously, Harry moved closer to the crowd, closer to the screams of shock and terror, closer to the blood and closer to the body. He edged his way to the front of the crowd, trying to distinguish what had happened and whose body this was.

Its legs were cracked and were lying out in awkward angles. The blood seeping from numerous parts of the body was a dark crimson red, soaking the streets and the shoes of the bystanders. One of the arms from the body was outstretched at an angle that was impossible, and solid bone could be seen cutting through a thick layer of skin. The chest was ripped open, a huge scar cutting from right below the collarbone to the middle of the body's waist. Harry looked up. A spike was jutting out form the side of the building, the dark crimson liquid, perfect match to the one in the streets, was dripping from it. Harry put the pieces together. The person had jumped, from the top of the hotel in which Harry himself had been staying in. A sudden fear lurched in Harry's stomach. He let his eyes fall on the person's head. Even though it was splattered with blood, his bright blonde hair was shining through the dark liquid. The mangled body belonged to -

"Draco," Harry whispered. "DRACO!" he screamed. "DRACO, YOU LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW. DRACO, OPEN YOUR EYES! WAKE UP!"

He knew it was useless. He began to cry uncontrollably. It hurt, the emotional pain was terrible. It hurt worse that when Ginny had died, worse than when Dobby had died, worse than Sirius, worse than even his parents deaths. The pain was almost indescribable. Harry could only relate it to one thing; the Cruciatus curse. Even though the pain was not physical, as Harry screamed it felt like his own limbs were being ripped form his body. It seemed like everything in his world was gone, like nothing was right and nothing would ever be right again.

He took the limp, dead body in his hands. His own clothes were now soaked in blood. In the distance, he heard police sirens. A fresh trickle of blood seeped out of Draco's mouth and ran down his pale lips and the side of his ever pale chin.

"Goodbye," Harry whispered, struggling to control his tears. And then, Harry lifted the limp head to his own, and kissed him. Leaving a last trace of life on Draco's lips.