Scared, Potter?

The Last Night

My eyes open unwillingly. Someone is in my room. I hear the muffled crying. "Draco?" I whisper into the darkness surrounding me. The cries quiet for a moment before they start back up. I reach around me for my wand. "Lumos Maximus" I whisper. A ball of light appears from the tip of my wand and lights up the whole room. I see Draco lying on the bed next to me. His cheeks are wet and lined with tears. "What's wrong? No," I shake my head, trying to figure out the best question, "are you okay?" I shake my head again. "Obviously you're not okay. You wouldn't be crying in the middle of the night if you were..."

"Harry..." Draco answers. He's quiet for a second. "Somethings wrong. With me."

"Of course somethings wrong with you!" I laugh. Draco looks a little annoyed and definitely upset with me for saying this. I decide to keep going. "I mean, honestly, after what we went through last year...well, I'm surprised you're doing this well!"

"That's not what I meant, Harry." Draco's blue eyes look dark and hidden then.

"Then what did you mean?" I ask, sitting up in bed.

"I can't tell you." Draco replies.

"Of course you can," I say, "you can tell me everything."

Draco looks out the window. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but closes it again. I watch him; I watch his fingers as they intertwine with each other. I watch his mouth as it opens, closes, and quivers.
It's the second time I've seen him cry, yet it seems like the first.

"Draco," I start, but he cuts me off.
"Harry, what's the meaning of life? Why are we here? I've done so many terrible things...yet the good wizards and witches, they all died. What's left? A screw up of a person?"

"I don't think any of us know what the meaning of life is," I answer carefully, "but I can tell you that those good wizards are just as good as you are."

"BUT IM NOT GOOD!" Draco shouts at me. My eyes widen in shock. I stand up and carry my pillow over to his bed. Draco moves over to give me some room.

"You are. Can't you see it?"

"No, I can't. My father, he made me this screwed up mess of a wizard. He erased all the good left in me, in the world. How can I be happy? What's the point of me living only so I can suffer more?"

"I like you, Draco. I want you to be happy. And I want you to be happy with me. And there's at least a tiny shred of goodness and hope left in you, otherwise you would never be feeling this."

"What is this feeling?" Draco asks me, looking me in the eyes for the first time.

"It's guilt." I reply. I take his hand in my own and squeeze it. "Maybe..." I stop, not wanting to continue for fear that Draco will despise the idea.

"Maybe what?" Draco's eyes search mine for answers. I look deep into his ocean water eyes and swallow hard.

"Maybe we should talk to a counselor." I suggest. I wait for Draco to get upset and yell, but he doesn't. Instead, he simply turns over in his bed and yawns.

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Draco." I answer, kissing him on his cheek. I get in my own bed and fall asleep.