The music was loud.

It filled him—caressed his eardrums until eventually it didn't bother him anymore. The brazenness of what was once a nostalgic, gentle beat conflicted his already anxiety-stricken heart. It was as if he was being fed sympathetic lies through his ears, and inconsolable truths through his eyes. Despite that, his deaf and blindness were the last of his worries at the moment. Harry Potter purposefully found himself ignoring the fact that it was going to be his last one regardless.

The songs we sing and the worlds we climb

You take my hand, and I'll take the time.

"Potter, we have to keep moving," said a voice behind the young man. Harry didn't even need to turn around. He didn't want to. His eyes were set upon the disheveled remains of Hogwarts, way in the distance. Through the early morning trees of the dark forest, he could see the fires that pillared through some of Harry's memories.

"Seriously, Potter, we can't hang around." Harry turned around at last, eyes focusing on the blond-haired man in front of him. "Coming?"

"Um... yeah. I'm coming." Harry muttered, and started trekking through the forest once again, burnt and crisp leaves crackling under his feet. He could clearly see where people had fallen while trying to run; there were marks in the dirt where people had dug their fingers into the ground, desperately trying to escape the horror that not even wands could halt.

"We got lucky," muttered Draco as he briskly leaped over a charred log. His school coat was practically in rags, like little sheets dancing with every little movement he made. His neat shoes were covered in a strange red substance that was already obvious. When Draco clearly looked over in Harry's direction, he was dismayed when the bright green of his eyes were dimmed from the forest shade.

"I wouldn't consider ourselves the lucky ones, Malfoy," Harry wheezed. He couldn't look Draco head on with his glasses being as cracked as they were, lest his vision become even more impaired than it already was. It was fuzzy, given the circumstances. "Everyone we knew... just gone--"

Draco held up a hand, before throwing his other thumb over his shoulder. "Don't sit and sulk now. They'll catch up, or worse. Last thing I need is for you to get us killed, Potter."

Let the angels cry, for they have known

Their sorrow holds somebody's home

"Not like you'd care if I died anyway, Malfoy," Harry gave a sad, reminiscent smile, thinking back to the old days, back to their ridiculous rivalry. When name-calling and punches were all they had to worry about. Malfoy glanced back at him and muttered something. "What was that?"

"I said," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes, "I would hate it if you died. There'd be no one else to annoy." Draco sent a hesitant smile towards Harry before turning back around and continuing silently. There was no point in telling Harry how he felt. They both knew they were going to die anyway, so why create something only for it to be destroyed hours, minutes, seconds later?

Something flashed in Harry's emerald eyes, and he nodded at Draco's words. "I...yeah. I'd hate if you died, as well. Partially because I don't want to be alone in this and partially because..." Harry's voice trailed off as he got lost in his thoughts once again.

Draco shot Harry a look. For the briefest of moments, it looked to him like it was out of pure curiosity rather than his natural holier-than-thou attitude. "Because of what?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry lied. Draco didn't seem to have any of it. He grunted, before kicking a large rock deep into the forest brush. With more zest that Harry had ever seen of the boy, and maybe a little bit of something else, he walked over until he was right in front of the bespectacled Harry Potter.

"Open up, Potter, and just say it," Draco said, only a few feet away. Harry let out a long sigh as his gaze traversed the forest floor beneath him. "We don't have much longer, anyways."

There was a small pause between the two, as Harry's mind because a swirling slew of voices telling him to keep his mouth shut, as well as the opposites who egged him on like a hungry wolf with no teeth waiting for the injured sheep to die.

"You, Draco."

Draco just stared at Harry. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Harry let out a disbelieving laugh. The obvious confusion in Draco's eyes was actually amusing, even during the end of everything.

"I mean that I love you." The revelation of his secret lifted a load off of Harry's chest. It felt like a truckload of weight had just fallen off of him, and Merlin, did it feel amazing. "It's stupid, I know, seeing as we're complete enemies, but I just-"

"Dance with me."

Harry stopped in surprise at Draco's sudden interruption, staring at him like he had three heads. "What?" Draco smiled slightly and held out his hand with a bow.

"May I have this dance?"

Harry was astonished. His bespectacled eyes gazed between Draco's hand and his eyes, all while trying to do damage control on his pounding heart. "Y-Yes, Draco," he stuttered quietly, as he embraced the soft feeling of the blonde haired boy and his fingers intertwining like old lovers.

Draco pulled him close--chest to chest in fact. Harry quickly found the side of his face pressed against Draco's breast, lightly tilting his glasses.

The sounds of rampant shaking and growling came from a bit deeper in the forest, heading straight in their direction. Harry pulled away for a moment, but Draco pulled him right back in.

Then he began to sway.

"They're coming..."

"Let them get us, Potter."

The growls were very quickly turning into threatening cries that were littered with the sobs of their dead friends back at the demolished Hogwarts. Harry hadn't realized his shaking was growing more intense by the second.

Until a voice sand ever so gently into his ear:

The end may come but we may see

Our tears will mix and our minds will be.

It cannot be stopped but I have you

A final dance to bid adieu.
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