"You've been so brave," Lily Potter whispered. Harry cringed at her words, fear nearly bringing him to his knees. He didn't want to do this, again. 
                              
His father, Sirius and Remus all spoke to him and he cried against his will. Each word struck weight on his soul. They never blamed him... but he knew. All because of Voldemort and him and the damned prophecy that bound them together. They escorted him to the place... the spot where it happened.
                              
"Please..." he pleaded. Not again. Voldemort was there... the others were blurry.
                              
His mother and father said nothing, just smiled. It did nothing to reassure him. He tried to settle his breathing. Maybe this time, he won't come back. Maybe Voldemort would really kill him. Harry didn't reach for his wand. He never did. That was too much of a change. He had to die. Stand and watch as Voldemort, the one-man firing squad, aimed.
                              
Harry saw movement. Draco was there. He was in the spot where his mother had been. Harry knew he'd be the one who reached him first. He was the one who'd check him. He would vouch-safe his life. He wanted Draco to touch him already. Bring him back from the dead. But that was after. Voldemort had to kill him first. Kill that part of him that linked them together. But the soul isn't so easily divided. Harry was convinced that he lost part of himself, too. Voldemort was coiled within his soul... he couldn't be just ripped him out. It wasn't just Voldemort who was going to die. 
                              
Harry looked at Dumbledore's old wand as his soul-bond nemesis aimed it at him. Stop... I want it to stop. But there was no stopping destiny. He was already trapped in its web.
                              
"Avada Kedarva!" he roared, and the green light came at him. A rush of terror rippled through him and pain wracked through his body. 
                              
Harry sat straight up in the darkness of his room. His hand went to his throbbing heart, cold sweat covered his body. He was practically hyperventilating. Tears came out. The room was unnervingly quiet. Neville was gone and Ron was in his bed. He couldn't handle the darkness anymore. He scrambled out of bed and went down to the common room, seeking the spot next to the dying fire. 
                              
He was freezing, but couldn't go back to get his blanket or his wand. He curled up into a ball and hugged himself for warmth. He only hopefully glanced at the stairs, wishing Draco would come down and hold him. He technically could get into his room now, but he'd probably wake all of them up. No, Draco had to make sure Theo was taken care of. He clenched his eyes shut and whimpered against the memories. 
                              
His eyes were still wet when the room started to lighten. He felt a blanket be dropped on him, again, and he opened his eyes to see Hermione's soft eyes.
                              
"Oh, Harry," she said, running her fingers through his hair.
                              
He trembled and she threw her arms over him, hugging him, tightly. 
                              
"I'm right here, Harry," she said, and he cried into her shoulder. 
                              
"I'm sorry," he said, after several minutes of rough emotions. 
                              
"What for? Don't be stupid, Harry. You are hurting. But I think we should talk about it," Hermione tried, again.
                              
"No," Harry repeated.
                              
"Harry... you are in so much pain."
                              
"I can't, Hermione. Please don't make me."
                              
"I'm not going to make you, but you need help," she urged.
                              
"Draco has to deal with Theo and Blaise."
                              
"Draco is not capable of helping you. He has to recover from his own demons, Harry."
                              
"I feel better with him... then when we separate... it all comes back. I don't want to be alone, anymore."
                              
"You're becoming dependent on him."