Disclaimer: Anything relatable to Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling and her publishers.

Summary: In the last days of his life, Draco recalls his love affair and eventual partnership with his former enemy, Harry Potter.

Author's Note: I had a really old account on here that I ended up deleting, and I wrote a story very similar to this, I love the idea…it's been too long since I've written. So Happy New Year =p

He was sitting in the rocking chair by the wide window, where he usually sat on days like this. Days like this were becoming more common as he grew older, he missed him more. Outside the wide window was a Maple Tree, and in it lived all sorts of birds and other creatures. It was Harry's favorite part of the house, he loved to look out at the tree and watch as the birds nested, fed their young. He loved watching the leaves change into magnificent gold colors in the fall, and see them bloom again in the spring.

Since Harry had died, Draco spent a lot of time in this chair; it still smelled faintly of the cigars Harry had started smoking after a business trip to America. Draco had hated them at first, he had hated the way they made Harry smell, but as he sat in this chair, he breathed deeply, trying to catch the scent that still lived in the fabric of the chair, just to feel close to him again.

Hermione told him he spent too much time alone in the house, and that's why his health was getting worse, but that's not why. Draco needed to remember in order to stay alive. He needed to sit where Harry sat and watch how Harry watched. He wanted to find the beauty in the changing of the seasons, in watching the birds come and go. He wanted to be as carefree as Harry was.

Of course, Harry had not always been carefree, not at the beginning, not even when Harry had divorced Ginny and gone to live with Draco. The way they had started was a mess, a huge mess, really, it hadn't been easy, and it wasn't easier as the years progressed. It never got easy, but Harry had accepted that, and became carefree, as Draco remained cautious and careful.

They'd met in a bar. It was three years after the war. Things were finally getting back to normal...As normal as they could be. Deaths didn't get easier when people couldn't even bury their loved ones because of all the wreckage. The pain was still there, Draco could see it on Harry's face as he sipped a Butterbeer by himself at the end of the bar.

They would argue about this in years to come, but Draco always insisted he was the first to say hello, and even though they had been enemies and fought against each other, that night, something sort of snapped inside them, and they talked like old friends. An hour seemed like a minute, and in that one night of conversation and beer, they became best friends.

Even Hermione and Ron were welcoming, Draco became a part of the group; he came to their parties. It was as if Hogwarts had never happened, like it was never an issue. They accepted him willingly, and from then on, they spent a lot more time together.

Harry and Draco were close, almost as close as Harry and Ron. But Draco and Harry had a deeper connection, something in their souls connected and intertwined. They understood what it was meant to be forced into a life they hadn't really chosen. They understood the terror each other went through in the war, how horrible it felt to not have a choice. It was something Ron or Hermione could never understand, they had chosen to fight, to be a part, to stand by Harry, but Draco, Draco understood in a way they never could.

It was a year and a half that they'd been friends, and Draco had invited Harry over for a drink. It had been a month since they'd seen each other. Business trips, work, and Harry had been busy with Ginny who had gotten pneumonia, and Harry was her personal caretaker. Draco understood that Harry had to be there for his wife, but something was biting him on the inside, something he couldn't place exactly.

Harry walked in and the smiles were instantaneous, it was like a weight was lifted for both of them and they embraced happily, patting each other on the back, and sitting down. The conversation was effortless, it always was with them. After a few hours, a lot of beers, and a couple shots, they were slumped on the couch in a drunken stupor laughing at nothing, but everything.

There was music playing on the radio and when a song came on, Harry perked up and smiled, he stood, stumbling slightly and reached for Draco's hand, "I love this song!" he said happily, "Come dance with me Draco." Draco smiled and stood up, placing his hand on Harry's waist and they twirled around the room, tipsy, tripping on themselves, laughing.

Somewhere as the song was concluding, the way the light in the room was growing darker, the way Harry and Draco were looking into each other's eyes, they both sobered quickly, but they didn't part. Harry started breathing heavily, a scent Draco can still recall. He could recall Harry's piercing brown eyes, how their bodies moved together slowly, and how their faces moved closer without either realizing it.

Before they could think, their lips connected, and Draco was sure his entire life was meant for this moment. Every kiss meant nothing in comparison to this one, every touch was nothing compared to the touch of Harry's hands as they cupped his face. Their tongues connected sending sparks of desire, no, not sparks, they were rockets. There were fireworks. Everything in his life was meant for this moment. The shock caused Draco to gasp and pull away, and from the look in Harry's eyes, he knew that it meant the same for him.

Harry gulped audibly, a sound which made Draco want to laugh to relieve the tension, but he didn't. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled, "I'll see you soon, friend". Harry had smiled, knowing they both felt the same way, knowing they would talk about it, but now wasn't the time.

They didn't bring it up again until a month later, when Draco couldn't wait anymore. He was in love with Harry. He knew they were supposed to be together. He knew they were going to grow old together. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, and he wanted the rest of his life to start as soon as possible. They'd met at Draco's again, and Harry sighed as he sat down. They'd always been connected in the brain, and Harry could sense they were going to discuss it. They were going to talk about the kiss he couldn't stop thinking about.

Before Draco could even start he said, "I'm married, Draco. Ginny is my wife."

Draco sighed, "I know. But you can't deny the implications of that kiss."

Harry wanted to blame it on drunken stupidity but when they had kissed, Harry had never felt more sober, more alive, more aware, and he knew Draco had felt it too. "It meant something…It meant everything, but I don't know what you want me to do."

Draco smiled and grabbed Harry's hand gently, "I want you to do what feels right in your heart. You always have, Harry."

Harry smiled gently at Draco, "I wish I could hide from you how I really feel, but you know me so deeply, I can't hide." Draco nodded and winked, causing Harry to laugh, "What we have right here has felt more right to me than anything, Draco. When we were in school, I hated you because I didn't understand you, but now I know you so deeply, I don't know how we were never friends. But I have a wife, I love Ginny desperately."

"I know you do, Harry" Draco said, "And as much as it pains me, I would never want you to give up that stability and your life with Ginny for me, but I just want you to know that I'll wait for you if I have to. I know this is right, as scary and as fucked up and weird as it is, I know its right, and you do too, but I would never try and take Ginny from you ever."

Harry smiled and lifted up his hand cupping Draco's cheeks, there were tears welling in both their eyes. After their year of friendship, they weren't afraid of being vulnerable with each other, which is what made them such good friends. Harry leaned forwardly cautiously, testing the waters, and placed his lips carefully on Draco's, enjoying Draco's quiet moan of approval.

He hadn't meant to let the kiss go far, but it did. They wrapped their arms around each other and got lost somewhere in the intimacy of the kiss, and the meeting of their minds. They pressed against each other so hard, like they were trying to glue themselves together; their tongues collided and roamed around each other's mouths. Somehow shirts became untucked and unbuttoned, pants came off. Somehow they made it into Draco's bedroom and cautiously explored what neither had ever done with another man. They jerked each other off, and kissed each other in places only they had been kissed before. When Draco slipped inside Harry, they both experienced a foreign kind of pleasure that was intensified by their love for each other. Afterward they lay in bed, naked, holding each other. Draco let Harry cry on his shoulder, because Harry knew this moment was what he'd been waiting for, but never had with Ginny, and when Harry left the next morning, his shirt wrinkled, his hair a mess, they kissed softly, and Draco promised they would figure it out.

They couldn't stop meeting, and try as they might, they couldn't resist the pull to each other. They made love in different ways every time, they experienced new levels of pleasure and intimacy that they'd never imagined they could find in anyone, let alone another man. Everything was just right, everything just came together like puzzle pieces; they were finally home.

Harry started taking more "business trips" and he would spend three or four days at Draco's house without leaving. They would make love, and talk for hours about nothing, and about everything. This lasted for six months, the secret neither of them could tell anyone but each other. They were secret lovers, outside friends.

Ginny had her suspicions, but she didn't think it was possible. She and Harry had more or less been together for six years, he had never said anything about another woman, or man. They still made love like they both meant it; he still pleasured her in special ways that made her crazy and mad with desire. Nothing had changed, really, other than him wanting to be on the bottom more. He spent more time with Draco. He spent less time around the house, and when he came home he was bone tired, but he still wanted to please her. But she had this nagging feeling in her stomach that something wasn't right.

She found out one morning when she'd hopped into the shower with him, and pressed herself against his back, running her hands over his body, he laughed and turned around, holding her close, and as she began kissing his neck, she saw the bite marks and hickeys. She had never given him hickeys, she had never been so rough with him.

Harry felt her change, he felt the room build up with intensity as she looked at him with tears in her eyes. He knew that she knew, he knew it wasn't a secret anymore. She stormed out of the bathroom screaming and crying.

Harry showed up at Draco's house a few hours later, bloodshot eyes from crying, all his belongings in a bag and fell into Draco's arms crying. Draco cried with him, because the stability of their secret affair had ended, and they were exposed, and the man he loved was in incredible pain.

The next few months were hard, to say the least. First it was Ron and Hermione who found out. They had had their suspicions but were still shocked when Ginny confirmed it. Hermione was more rational than Ron, going to talk to both of them. Ron sat in stone silence until the three ran into each other at a function, and upon seeing Harry and Draco together, he understood. He wasn't accepting, but he understood. Harry and Ginny's relationship was strained to say the least, but she was more graceful than they expected her to be.

They went to buy a house together, and what made them buy this one was the wide window in the library. Harry had gotten excited when he saw it, saying how this would be his place. So they bought the house, and then they spent hours and hours trying to pick out the right chair for Harry by the window, and when he found it, he pretty much lived in it from that moment on.

Over the years people had become more accepting, more graceful about approaching the whole subject. Ginny and Harry renewed their friendship, and through a lot of talking, forgiveness could happen. Harry and Draco lived together till Harry died.

When the cancer came, it was a shock for both of them. Harry always joked about how silly it was that the war hadn't killed him, but cancer would. They tried to stay humorous about the whole thing, because that was what Harry wanted. But when Harry was sick from chemo, and his hair fell out it was hard to laugh and smile. And when Harry went in the hospital because he was going downhill fast, it was hard to be happy for anything other than the 25 years they'd spent together as a couple.

The night that Harry died, everyone had been there. Ron and Hermione shared a grief Draco couldn't relate too, as did Ginny, and at the funeral, Draco insisted that all of them stand up with him to talk about how Harry meant to them.

Since that day almost five years ago, Draco has lived in this chair more or less. Anything to just feel a connection to Harry, anything to just be able to close his eyes and feel him close again, to hear his laugh, to feel his arms around him.

If he closed his eyes long enough, he imagined Harry there, reaching out to him through the wide window, and while Draco had always refused to step through and meet Harry there before, tonight, he couldn't resist.

He lifted himself slowly out of the chair, and stepped onto the bench in front of the window, and grabbed Harry's hand cautiously. And together, they walked hand and hand out of the window and into the stars.

Author's Note: I hope you guys liked it :] Please review and whatnot. :]