We knew it had to end one day.

We never talked about that day, where our destinies would rise up and swallow us; the day where our roads would separate forever; the day we would have to leave for opposite sides of a battle and fight against one another mercilessly. Cruelly.

We tried denying any feelings for each other until the end of our fifth year, when we both gave in. Draco made me strong; even if I didn´t want the strength he gave me.

I don´t love, and I don´t feel. Not anymore. We had a bond with one another, a fragile, beautiful connection strung with love and ice crystals.

There was a kind of empathy between us nothing could shatter; that would last even if he were the one shouting Avadra Kedavra at me. I would understand why he was doing it, and I know he would kill himself afterwards.

Love is on of the most powerful driving forces on this planet; it runs deep, like a still, frozen river on a clear winter´s day, or like a thick, lush vine fed daily with healthy nourishments. But there are forces that run deeper still, like the blanket of pebbles at the bottom of the ocean´s depths. Guilt, for one.

Draco Malfoy is the only person who can hurt me, and he did, like a clean, polished dagger to the heart. I expected it of course; I knew it would come one day.

It seems so distant now, the moment we knew and accepted we were in love. The moment I knew Draco understood me like no other person in the world.

I had been crying silently in an abandoned classroom--Ron dead, Dean dead, Dumbledore dead, Snape dead. I didn´t even notice when he walked in, but I expected the startled, "But you´re the root of our cause, Harry! You can´t cry! You must go on!" those words rushed past my ears like dirty water; unwanted, unneeded, and far too common.

But Draco merely whispered, "Cry Harry. Even heroes have the right to bleed."

*

I will forever remember the day he left me. Not because he didn´t love me, not because he was suspicious of our relationship, but because he knew his destiny had reached out its golden hand to clasp him within.

I had been outside, sitting on a bench next to the lake; watching the dusky, bittersweet rays of the moon hit the water like shafts of shimmering arrows. The stars slowly appeared in the sky, a small luminescent reminding of other realms; the moment was so still, yet dangerous, like the edge of a silver blade.

I felt a slight tap on my shoulder and almost knew what was coming. Draco´s touch had always been so silky, like melted butter; but today it was like a searing, icy white flame.

"Harry," he said slowly. His eyes were unreadable, blank; reflecting my own image, just like the lake.

"Draco," I answered.

"I..." he paused.

"You have to go," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded.

Niether of us said a word, neither being the kiss-and-go type, but the sadness, the rawness of the silence ran deep, like the undercurrents of a roaring river; the murky, impenetrable purple depths of the ocean.

"I--" I began, hesitantly.

"Shhh," he murmured, and touched his lips to mine; a feathery, light kiss, yet it meant so much, so much more.

I closed my eyes, wishing our paths didn´t have to be cut this way

Once I unclosed my eyes, he was gone, leaving only a trail of white flower-petals in his wake, falling like the tears on his face.

White flower-petals, kissed by the moon.