Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise. The plot and the actual story are mine. (BTW I don't take kindly to people stealing my ideas you have been warned)
A/N: this is my first attempt at any fic so don't be super evil when you review, If you review that is.
My breaths come short and sharp, the pain in my stomach is overwhelming, my own blood is dripping from my fingers.
Every breath, every cough hurts so much. All I want is to die, to escape from this pain.
Why can't I control my big mouth?
Why can't I trust?
I just have to ask so many questions. I just have to be unsure.
Coughing, tears streaming down my face, I manage to find enough strength to pull my dying body into bed. I know this may be my final resting place. I find it harder to breath with every gulp of air, my vision blurring. I feel my very life slipping through my grasp, my eyelids flickering, urging me towards sleep, towards death.
If I hadn't said those things, if I hadn't asked those questions, I might still be happy, I might still be able to breathe.
I realise now, I won't make it through this night; I am going to die.
My life slips from my reach, I take one final breath; my eyelids flicker one last time, before closing… forever.
One and a half hours previously – (basically a prologue)
(Authoress' POV – but with Oliver's thoughts)
"Oliver, why do you love me?"
"Hmm, let me count the ways… well Harry I love you because I do"
"That isn't a proper reason!" by this time Harry was on his feet and verging on screaming. Oliver knew all about the fact that Harry had possessive issues; he had no right to purposefully make him insecure with himself. He had promised not to even think about bringing anything like this up.
"Harry, calm down, I love you and you know it, that should be enough for anyone." Oliver's words did little to soothe the raven-haired teen's rising temper.
"That's just it though, if you love me just because you love me the minute some other cute guy comes along you're gonna waltz right out the door, and leave me!" Harry proceeded to dramatically flop onto a couch.
Oliver just had to giggle, which earned him a death glare from Harry.
"Sorry kitten. You really outdid your self that time" Oliver was now standing behind Harry, snaking his hand around Harry's.
"You still haven't answered my question Oliver. Why do you love me?"
"Harry I've told you already I love you because I do. Why should I need a reason for loving such a gorgeous and sexy guy such as your self?"
"Because you have to have a reason. It isn't right that you don't have a reason." Oliver couldn't see why this made sense to Harry but he decided that he was getting bored of this.
"Look Harry, I'm going to go for a walk, I have some books I need to drop off at the library and I need a bit of fresh air." It was a puny excuse but Oliver really couldn't take much more of Harry's self pity. He was the most gorgeous boy in Hogwarts, and he still felt insecure. He had girls and guys dropping right and left of him just to talk to him, let alone kiss. It was sad, sad to the point of pity, but there really was no reason for the self-pity.
Oliver was broken from his train of thought buy his lovers shout,
"Who else is there, who else are you seeing? I can't take this anymore Oliver, I can't stand you lying to me!"
This was the-boy-who-lived, he defeats Lord Voldermort countless times, he survives 'Avada Kedavra', the killing curse, and now he can't even handle his lover going for a walk. This was beyond a joke.
"For Merlin's sake Harry, you need to learn to trust me! This has gone beyond a joke! You are going to be the goddam death of me!" Oliver has a notoriously short temper, and Harry had just found the limits of his tolerance.
"I do trust you, it's just you're always going off and doing something else. I think you might be cheating on me."
Losing every scrap of judgement, Oliver grabbed his knife and advanced on Harry.
"I'm gonna do that muggle-hating, half-blood, Lord fucking Voldermort a little favour! I'm sure there's a hell of a lot of people who'd kill to see you dead. You have gone to fucking far with the self-pity Harry, this time I'm gonna hurt you so fucking bad you wont be able to open your godforsaken mouth to pity yourself!"
Oliver was getting closer and closer to Harry with each step and Harry was edging away from the crazed knife-wielder above him. He could see the rage in his 'lover's' eyes.
What had he done wrong?
Oliver had always told him to speak his mind, now he didn't want to hear it.
Harry was snapped away from his thoughts and back to reality by the gut wrenching pain he was now experiencing. Oliver had stabbed the five-inch blade right into Harry's stomach. He had been serious about ridding the world of the infamous Harry Potter.
A door banged, the candles flickered then went out, and then, as if finishing a chain of events, Harry simply blacked out.
(Draco's POV (this is mostly Draco's thoughts and I expect you to tell when its not his thoughts)
What the hell is Potter doing in my bed? He can't be in my bed. There should be some sort of law against this. This is my crush of Merlin knows how many years, and now he's in my bed.
The guy is also bleeding to death. What in Merlin's name am I supposed to do?
Duhh!You aren't the cleverest boy in the year for nothing. Have you never even heard of a healing spell, you dummy!
Draco smashed his head into his palm at his own stupidity and flustered-ness.
"INTEGRO ORUM!" Draco screamed with passion, passion and love for the raven-haired, slightly comatose, young man lying in his bed. (A/n this is Latin for heat whole – I made it up- it's not a 'real' spell)
Draco watched with baited breath to see if the-boy-who-lived would do just that, live…
He breathed a sigh of relief as the young mans chest started to rise and fall obviously.
Draco now did the only thing he could think of doing after saving the life of the wizarding world's hero, he promptly fainted.
A/n: I hope you liked that it wasn't that amazing i admit. should i continue? or should i leave it there (reviewers will be thanked ever so much)