I have never pubished something here. So, this is my very first try, yes.
English is not my first language, so please consider that before you send me mails full of hatred ;-)
I'm not sure where I wanted to go with this story, but as every story does, it somehow developed a life of its own and I couldn't control it any longer. I never wanted it to be as dark as it actually is now. Well, I do hope you enjoy it anyways. At least a little.

Disclaimer: everything belongs to Queen Rowling, I don't own a bit, don't intend to make money with it, blah, blah, blah.

I'd love to hear your thoughts afterwards :)

I'm sorry, Dray.

Somehow, they were always there. Right there. In his eyes. Those emerald greens. Draco had never seen anything so beautiful. Never. But the shadows of the past would never quite leave his lover's eyes.
There were days when Harry would manage a smile- sometimes even one he truly meant and felt. On other days he would not even pretend to be happy for someone else's sake.
Draco would never understand it. The pain, the memories, the thoughts. The fear. And at some point he had stopped trying. Instead he had accepted that Harry would never share that part of his past with him. At first, it had bothered the former Slytherin to no ends. It had made him right out furious. They were lovers, for Salazar's sake! And they had been for quite some time now. For five blessed years now, to be exact. Never once had the blonde regret his decision to turn against his family and nearly all of his friends to be with the Boy Wonder - his Boy Wonder.
And eventually he even managed to accept that there were things, Harry could and would never talk about. Yes, it had made him angry. And sad, so damn sad. They'd had some very difficult weeks, awfully much screaming and crying included, until Draco tiptoed back home through their always warded door. He had found Harry in their cozy living room infront of the fire reading some muggle fairy tale (he still didn't understand how one could enjoy these tales). The raven haired boy looked up instantly, a smile playing around his lips, but he still looked sad and frightened. Actually, Draco had wanted to sound as if Harry should be glad to not have lost him but his plan didn't work out, as it never had before, not even once.
Tears had made it impossible to make out anything except for Harry's eyes, these eyes that he had missed so terribly the two weeks he had spent at Blaise's.
'I'm sorry. Do you hear me? I am so sorry. I had no right to talk to you like...that.' He hadn't even realized how he got to his knees. But suddenly he was kneeling in front of the chair, pleading. His father would kill him just for that. But then his father would have killed him for so many other things already. Like being in love with Harry Bloody Potter.
'It's okay, Dray.' Harry sounded tired. He could barely look at Drace without yawning every two minutes.
'I love you.', Dray thought, but didn't say it, as always.
'No, its not, I pushed you way too hard. I shouldn't have done it. If you don't want to... or can't talk about...well, about whatever happened at your relatives', then thats none of my business, right?'
'Dray,' Harry whispered. 'It's okay. I'm glad you're home. I missed you.'
It was then that Draco broke. There was something in the boy's voice - something that went well beyond the pain and sadness that was normally there.
They both stood up and leaned into each other. Home, Draco thought as he smelled his lover's unique scent. Harry's embrace was nearly painful. 'Are you okay?'
There was a long silence. 'No,' Harry said eventually. 'But don't worry. Don't worry.'
He drew back, gave Draco a faint smile and placed a tender kiss on his nose, one of his Harry-kisses. When they first had started dating, that had been all Draco would get at the end of a night out. Before Harry could draw away completely, the blonde took hold of his face, putting his hands at either side of it. He forced him to look at him and held his gaze for a few seconds.
'I've lost you, Harry.'
'Don't be silly, love. I'm right here. I know it's been difficult with me, but it's okay. We'll...We'll work things out. We always do, don't we?'
Draco wanted to believe him. He really did. But the way the other boy looked at him made it simply impossible to cinvince his always suspicious mind that things would go back to normal soon enough.
Harry sighed. 'Look, I know you really want to know what happened back... back then. And I'm glad you won't push me any further... Draco, I'm trying really hard here, okay? I'd love nothing more than to just forget about what has happened, but it's not as simple as that. It's... Sometimes I think that it's to heave a burden for this relationship.'
'Oh no,no, I see where you're heading. Forget it, Potter. I've told you often enough that I'll carry you through this if necessary.'
Harry's eyes softened. He leaned in again, for a real kiss this time. His lips were as soft as they always had been, and Draco's thoughts wandered back to their first kiss right away. It had been much more awkward, they hadn't really known what to do with their lips and tongues and hands. A small giggle escaped his throat. When his former nemesis took a step back, there was still nothing but sadness in his eyes - but at least there was a tiny smile on his lips. Draco knew that it wasn't a real smile, but right now he would hold on to every hopeful thought he could get. The memory of their first kiss seemed like something from an earlier life. Before he could say anything, Harry took another two steps back and put the book he was still holding on a coffee table.
'I'll go upstairs. Take a shower. I... I think, I need to get rid of these thoughts. I'm sorry, Dray.'
'That's...that's okay, sweetie. Take your time. How about I make us a tea?'
The Boy Who Barely Lived gave him another weak smile. 'That'd be lovely.'

As Harry went upstairs, Draco noticed the book he'd left on the coffee table. He bent to close it and take it back upstairs to their room, but couldn't help glancing at the page he held open. And he stopped breathing for a few moments.
Harry hadn't been reading some novel, no. It was one of his diaries. One of his olddiaries. Not only the date but also the handwriting suggested that this was on of his first ones. And so did the entry Draco couldn't help reading.

Tonight, Uncle Vernon came into my room again. I don't know why he keeps doing that. Every time he comes, he says mean things to me. He calls me a freak. Says that no one ever wanted me and that he is disgusted by me. But then he starts touching me. It feels weird and I don't want it. I don't want him to touch me like that. It is gross. But he always puts his hand over my mouth, so I can't scream. Even if I could... I'm sure Aunt Petunia and Dudley wouldn't come to help me. They don't even like me.
It never takes long. When Uncle Vernon leaves he always looks back at me and says 'You won't tell anyone, boy. This is our little secret, do you understand?'
I always nod. Why would I want to tell anyone? And who should I tell?
Uncle Vernon says that's just how one should treat freaks like me.
Are there many freaks in the world?
Do they cry as well, when their uncles leave their rooms every night?
I don't want to be a freak.

Draco couldn't stop crying. He had always known that terrible things had happened to Harry, he had also guessed that his boy - yes, his boy - had been raped, but to read this, written by a little boy, was heart breaking.
He raced upstairs, not caring that he probably should never have read this. The only thing he could think about right now was that he wanted to make sure that Harry knew how much he cared for him. When he came to a halt in front of the bathroom he paused for a momet to catch his breath. Only then did he notice that no noise was coming from behind the door. Not a single one.

'I'm sorry, Dray.'

All of a sudden Harry's last words made sense.