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There was nothing there, only grass and branches and tall trees surrounding the little clearing. The leaves let the light shine through and lit the whole place. It made everything brighter; the moss on the trees' side, the daisies that bloomed all around and the remaining drops of dew that hadn't finished drying. Once, there had been the sound of a river but nowadays it had been clogged. And still, after all this time, Harry could still picture the times he and Draco splashed each other with its water. He remembered the days they rolled their trousers and took off their robes and dip their feet in the freezing river. He remembered Draco tripping and soaking himself. He remembered laughing like he would never laugh again at the face Draco had made.
His heart clenched. He also remembered how fast he had sobbered up when he realized Draco's arm beared the Dark Mark. He remembered the shock in his voice when he had asked Draco if he was "on his side now". He remembered how Draco looked: hurt and desperate to explain himself to Harry, as if his whole life depended on telling Harry how wrong he was. He remembered how they argued, how the whole clearing reverberated their shouts, how the birds and Draco's shaking body. Harry looked around the clearing, spotting the fallen tree just outside the ring of grass. He remembered the fear in Draco's face when Harry lost all control and his magic leaked through him. He remembered the ground shaking with the falling of the tree and Draco crawling away, fearing for his life.
Harry knew that back then, he had been right, because he had felt so betrayed he could have killed the prat. He hadn't. The tears rolling down the milky cheeks of Drao had him change his mind. He couldn't help but shake at the thought that he had made the boy cry. Back then, he tried to appologize but the pitch black spot on Draco's forearm had him running away.
Harry never came back to the clearing.
Until the day he died. He knew Voldemort would take a great pleasure in destroying his enemy where he most felt at peace. He had followed the path he knew like the back of his hand, ignoring the memories, ignoring the way his heart throbbed with the epiphany that he would die where he learned to live.
In the end, he had greeted death like an old friend, knowing that, after all that happened, he would like to lay there forever. He would have liked the moss to cover him up through time and let the memories envelop him forever. And Voldemort didn't know that, of course, how could he know that Harry wanted to rest in peace there? He might have thought the clearing would had salt in the wound, but nothing would hurt more than Draco's shaking figure in front of him.
And thus he let himself be stung by the Dark Lord's green light and fall. It hadn't hurt. He had felt peaceful for a moment even, but then Dumbledore had come and guilt had washed over Harry. He couldn't die, not when he wanted to protect those he loved. Not when he had to see Draco's face again. So he didn't take the train waiting for him. He came back and fought for what he believed in. And he won.
Yet, it hadn't felt like it to him. A whole part of him still thought he had lost what was most important. From this day in sixth year on he had felt the void growing inside of him. Ever since that fateful day in the river, Harry had lost a part of him.
He could no longer hear the light ruffle of leaves and the way Draco's voice sounded late at night when they lay side by side. He couldn't remember the way his hand felt in Harry's. He couldn't imagine Draco's face lit by the fireflies anymore without seeing the tears streaking his face. But what hurt the most was that he couldn't imagine Draco happy anymore. He couldn't see the smile, couldn't see the way he looked at him when they were playing. He couldn't even imagine Draco laughing, could only hear the distant sound he was so found of.
Harry hadn't been able to go back to this part of the forbidden forest before he was forced to. It reminded him of broken promises and had that feeling of WRONG plastered accross it. But right at this moment, when he sat on the fallen tree, he could see himself and Draco practicing the patronus cham, and hear Draco scolding when Harry effortlessly let the stag out of his wand. They had spent nights practicing and one day, when Harry showed his patronus again to Draco, who was halfway through mastering the spell, a small ferret came out of the wand and wandered around them both. Draco immediately whispered the spell and this time, a stag came out. Yet, it shouldn't have come out of his wand unless... They had both knew what that meant. They had been so shy about it at first but after some nights, they were quite happy of themselves and proud of their patronuses. Harry had kissed Draco three weeks after, only to recieve a slap. Yet, when he saw the appology in those stom-grey eyes, he laughed.
Now that he thought about it, the clearing was full of laugher. And yet, full of so many tears.
Harry remembered the night Sirius died, he had come in here, seeking comfort, and just, peace, to grieve. But Draco had been there and had held him so close and so tight that he had shed every tears he could hold in his body. Draco also cried, Harry doesn't remember why, beside that time in the river. But once, at the begining of fifth year, Draco had come there and cried his heart's content on Harry's shoulder. Now Harry knew why that must have been hard for him. And he wished that back then he would have found the words. Today, he thought, he would only have had to cast the patronus charm and Draco's face would have lit up.
He laughed, a small, hurt and bitter laugh. Then, lifted his wand, or rather Draco's, and cast the charm. He smiled faintly as he watched the ferret appear and run in circles over his head. Then it disappeared and Harry was left with his thoughts again.
He had thought a lot of this place, and even when he hated Draco, he went to the Room of Requirement and asked for this place. He had spent hours there, imagining the ifs and wondering the whys. But mostly, he had spent his time casting patronuses after patronuses until he lost conciousness and Ron and Hermione had to wake him up. The Room always shifted back to some random Griffindor-like room before they came in, though. He was always grateful for that. But he had missed the sent of that white-blond hair he loved so much. He had missed the feel of those ivory hands in his and the taste of his mouth. He had missed Draco like he had missed Hogwarts while at the Dursleys'. He had missed him so much he had dreamed of him and when finally he had seen him, they argued. He had cast a Sectumsempra on him and could have died when he saw the blood pouring from Draco's chest. And Snape had been there, and Draco had been fine but that moment still haunted Harry like the tears on Malfoy's face. What had been harder was when he saw his lover's face so broken facing Dumbledore. What had broken him was how he spit the Dark Lord title. What had killed him was the moment he lowered his wand.
At that moment, Harry knew he loved him more than he could ever love anyone. It kept growing, bigger and bigger. Yet, the void still didn't fill itself. There still was one part of him that wasn't there. He knew what that part was, that it probably was the part Draco took in his life and in his heart. And he had been gone.
Harry remembered the days he thought only of him and the nights he only dreamed of the clearing and their fingers entertwined. He remembered the tears he shed wearing the necklace and his frustration. But then, he got to see him again, and he saved his life. He saw in those cold eyes that it wasn't over. And he knew it could have been the best thing to ever happen to him but then he remembered his eyes, clouded by storms of tears. He lost hope.
And now here he was, sitting in an old clearing where only Draco and him had memories, where only them knew the reason why the tree had fallen. Here he was, with his patronus runing and sniffing flowers. Here he sat, with tears rolling down his face and his lover's wand in his hand.
"Why are you here, Potter?"
He couldn't dare look up. He didn't even know himself why he was there, he just needed to be with Draco, even though it was through hurtful memories. Yet, here Draco was, looking even more beautiful than Harry could remember. He looked like a mess too, but Harry couldn't care less, because he was there, in front of him, looking like he had needed to be here as much as Harry.
"I was looking for... something?"
"You don't sound so sure yourself, Potter." Again with the name. Harry didn't know why, but it lacked the animosity it once held. He knew it was just a façade for Draco. He knew Draco said it because either way he'd be crying in Harry's arms, and Harry didn't want that. "Are you done searching?" This time, there was something Harry recognised: hope. Draco was hoping for something. Harry didn't know if he could give him.
"Not sure how I can find it for now." Harry looked into those eyes he loved so much and stood up. He couldn't stay like that forever. He had to get closer to Draco. He had to feel him, to know he was alive. "But I'm close."
Draco suck in a breath and looked at Harry straight in the eyes before looking away, and his signature smirk was back on his face, though it did look rather sad. Harry couldn't help but to feel annoyed. And then, the fireflies flew all around them.
Both of them looked around but Harry's eyes flew back to Draco almost instantly. What he saw took his breath away. There he was, with his beautiful face, reddened by the cold and dirty with the Fiend Fire smoke. But he was all Harry craved for. To him, he glowed in the dark, surrounded by those tiny lights. He simply was the most beautiful being Harry had ever met. And when he turned his face and they looked at each other, something seemed to bloom.
"What are you looking for, Harry?" He heard him whisper under his breath, and Harry lost all the self control he ever had. He took Draco's hand in his. He didn't need to say anything, only to look at those eyes and to squeeze his hand to tell him. "Are you sure you wat this?" His voice wavered at the end and Harry couldn't help but laugh out of nervousness. He had practiced to say this sentence over and over again in his head, thinking he would never be able to tell him but right now, nothing seemed to matter more than this.
He simply said "I've already died for you Draco. This time, let me live for us."
It was all it took for Draco to close the gap between them and for their lips to meet in an angry crash. There were teeth and Harry was pretty sure he was bleeding but they didn't care, because more than anything, they knew the other was there. In the end, they weren't alone. Harry put his arms around Draco while the blond put his around Harry's neck and they stayed like this for a while, staring into each other's eyes, smiling and crying at the same time and whispering how much they had missed each other.
Finally, they laid on the ground, hands in hands, their robes down to transfigure into a blanket, and looked at the stars. Harry looked at Draco and for the first time he said "I love you, Draco Lucius Malfoy" only to have Draco whisper back "I love you too, Harry James Potter."
They looked at each other again, and then, Harry kissed Draco's Dark Mark. "I love you for what you are, and nothing else." He was thanked by a kiss on his scar and Draco's whispered "I love you whole and truly, until death tears us apart." And Harry kissed him.
In this place where there was nothing else but memories, Harry thought that he finally found what he had been looking for during his horcrux hunt. He looked at Draco and they both held his wand. When they whispered the charm, a silver stag came out, followed by a ferret, and they run in circles around them before disappearing into mist. Then, Harry knew "happiness could be found in the darkest of times".