AN: I don't own anything. I usually only post my crackfiction, but I hope someone else enjoys this.


The world was in mourning. Their savior was dead. Fallen in their defense against the greatest threat in a thousand years.

The sky seemed to weep upon the assembly of mourners as they huddled together in the cold, for warmth? For comfort? Who knows perhaps both.

It was a memorial service. The-Boy-Who-Once-Lived had requested that his gave be private so it didn't turn into some sort of pilgrimage site.

Ron and Hermionie remembered ruefully their friend's distain for fame

"If I die-"

"Harry don't talk about that!" Hermionie cried

His brilliant green eyes looked distant as he gazed into the fireplace of the Gryffindor commonroom "Just listen."

"Mate-" Ron protested

"Please."

Maybe it was the please that got them

"Alright Harry. If you die…?"

"Don't let them turn me into a bloody tourist attraction." Harry's face lit up with laughter but his eyes were as serious as they had seen them

"We won't let you die mate!"

Harry looked deeply at them both "Promise me"

"But…. If you do I promise." Ron finished

"I promise." Murmured Hermionie looking a little lost.

So many faces were missing from the crowd, teachers, students, mentors. The war had left no one unscathed.

McGonagall had begun a speech on just that.

"Once Hogwarts was a haven for learning, where children could grow to become the next generation of potion masters, aurors, healers, and so much more. Now in the final battle of the war its students have stood up in defense against a terrible threat. They have paid for their beliefs with the loss of their innocence, their blood, and their lives. So many have been lost. Children who fought with the passion of adults. We remember them today. We remember one in particular today.

"Harry Potter may have many names to you. Perhaps 'The Boy Who Lived' perhaps 'The Chosen One' maybe even 'Savior'. But he was more than just these names. He was one of those children we lost.

He did many heroic things in his life. From his entry into the wizarding world at eleven he has been relied upon to face some of the most evil things of this world. It seems that a year could not go by peacefully at Hogwarts with him shining light in the dark corners of our society. I could tell you he faced a basilisk at twelve, dementors at thirteen, and Voldemort nearly every year like clockwork. But that is the story of the hero, not the boy almost a man.

Today I choose to remember the boy who took to Quidditch like a fish to water his first time on a broom, the troublemaker who made me pull at my hair in exasperation, and the person that would turn to whoever was in trouble, age, appearance, gender, alliances, houses, it didn't matter, he would tell them 'it'll be alright' And he would say it with this look in his eyes that they couldn't help but believe it."

That is who I choose to think of today. I hope you will also remember the boy who was a hero, rather than the hero that was a boy. "

The students were wrapped up in the speech. Their tears flowing with the rain. Their grief at all they had lost, and the reminder that their Savior had been just like them.

No one noticed the slim figure leaning against one of the trees. His arms were wrapped protectively around himself as he tilted his blond head up towards the falling rain.

"Promise me!" Draco glared at him

"Draco I-"

"No! NO! Promise me you'll come back!" Draco yelled desperately

Harry moved towards him, wrapping seeker strong arms around the blonde. Draco punched against his arms and chest, but Harry just pulled him tighter. Eventually the smacks stopped, but the tears did not. Harry held Draco tighter pressing his blond head into the junction of his neck.

Harry murmured into his ear "Draco I'm sorry, I can't promise you that. But I will do everything I can to come back. To you."

Draco's tears were warm against the skin of his neck. No one else ever saw him cry.

"I want a real chance Draco. No more sneaking or hiding, no masks, and no one gunning for me." He smiled a little on this last. "I can't promise you, but can you promise something for me?"

"Prat. Asking for a favor at a time like this." Draco gave a watery chuckle.

"Please?"

Maybe it was the please

"What is it Harry?"

Harry moved so he was speaking into his platinum hair

"After the war… move in with me, I want to be able to wake up next to you every morning and not have to run to keep from being caught, I want to deal with your grouchiness before you get your coffee, I want to be able to take you out to dinner and have enough time that I can just hold you. Would you do that?"

Draco's voice was heavy "Harry….." a pause "That is the most corny speech I have ever heard."

Harry slumped a little

"Despite that I would love to, no matter how many corny speeches I have to endure, or your horrifying nature as a morning person." Draco said with a grin he kissed the tan neck still before his face.

Harry grinned like a fool his face lighting up as he cradled Draco against his body.

"Now I have even more to look forward to after this mess." Harry said barely suppressing his desire to swing Draco around like some old movie.

"Me too babe, me too."

"Hey Draco, I want you to hold onto something for me." Harry brought one hand up to his neck, pulling at a thin silver chain.

Pulling it over his head he slipped it over Draco's neck. It was long going down to the middle of his chest, a tarnished key at the end.

"Potter if this is some sappy 'key to my heart' I'm whacking some sense into you right here and now." Grey eyes looked up somewhere between laughing and assessing mental health.

"If I ever get that bad please do. No this is… well I was hoping you would say yes. This is the key to my cottage, not Grimwald Place. A place of my own. Well if things turn out, a place of our own."

Draco looked up kissing him gently.

"That sounds nice Harry." He murmured gripping the key

"That sounds nice Harry." He murmured echoing what he had said not so long ago. He was gripping the key looking at the grey clouds adrift in memory.

The ridges of metal pressed into his skin harshly, the feeling of it digging into his flesh brought him back a little.

The cottage was Draco's now, left by Harry in his will along with most of his worldly possessions. All had to be carried out with the utmost discretion by the lawyer, everything hush hush to keep the Golden Boy's memory from mixing with the Malfoy name.

It seemed empty despite the pictures of them together and happy in those stolen moments.

But he was gone

Truly gone.

The tears came stronger, mercifully hidden by the rain.

His reverie was interrupted by the inevitable

"Malfoy! How dare you show your face here!" Hermionie yelled pulling out her wand

"Harry wouldn't want some Death Eater scum here, let alone you!" Ron's face was turning red from anger

Red-rimmed Grey eyes looked at them a sad smile on his face. The most honest he had ever shown his expression with anyone. Anyone but Harry.

Expecting the usual smirk Ron and Hermionie looked at each other confused, wary.

When Draco spoke he seemed to be speaking to himself.

"I was going to return something, but I suppose I can't. It's probably best that way. Git probably planned it actually, too much Slytherin about him. I suppose I'll just have to say goodbye to a prat, who asked for nothing and everything, who I should have whacked for being a sap, but who never made a promise he couldn't keep.

"I guess that's why I hoped so much for that last promise." Whispered to himself Draco probably so his audience would not hear.

He shook his head, still gripping the key.

Hermionie was dumbfounded, he sounded… kind, sad, wistful when he insulted Harry. Not a true insult but an…endearment…?

"Malfoy-"

He held up his free hand delicately. "I'll be out of your way, I don't want to ruin other people's farewells. He'd get pissy if he was here and start yelling about being an insensitive selfish bastard, completely ignoring the fact he would be making a scene and making the situation worse. Idiot." he shook his head fondly again.

He opened his hand the tarnished key thumping gently against the dark cloth over his chest.

The sight was oddly mesmerizing, cold metal against dark cotton.

He smiled slightly to both Gryffindors nodding lightly, eyes wistful.

"Farewell." He said softly walking off into the trees.

It could have been imagined but they swore they heard him sighing to himself "Come back, that was the only promise that mattered. Prat."


Draco Malfoy was not heard from again.

There were rumors that he died, some that he was in hiding, some that he couldn't stand the wizarding world any more. Whatever you decided to believe, there was one truth known to few. On Harry Potter's hidden grave there hung a tarnished key on a long silver chain. Shining in the sun like a beacon of hope in the darkness of the graveyard.