A/N: Fifth year doesn't follow the same story as the books/movies in this fic, it goes off into its own story, just to let everyone know!

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Harry had had possibly the worst summer he'd ever experienced in his entire life. He was a heartbroken mess. He felt like an entire half of his heart had been ripped out of his chest, and the memories he and Draco shared together were just too painful to think about.

He'd spent the summer holed up in his room at Grimmauld Place, barely speaking to anyone. He hadn't told Hermione what had happened, so she assumed Harry was acting this way due to the information she'd told him about Draco. But Ron still didn't know anything, and Harry knew he'd have to tell him soon. He could tell he was starting to worry his friend. But how would Ron take it? He'd be livid. Ron knew Harry was seeing some mystery 'girl' but how would it go down knowing that the girl was Draco Malfoy?! And the fact he wasn't even human?!

Harry gave a humourless laugh at the thought. 'Hey Ron, just thought you should know that girl I'm seeing is actually Draco Malfoy, we were together, but then I found out he's actually a magical creature and that I'm his soulmate and now we've broken up.'

Yeah, Harry thought. That would go down a treat.

Harry hadn't eaten properly in weeks. He'd picked at bits of food the Weasley's served him as he didn't want to seem ungrateful. But he couldn't stomach any of it. All he could think about was Draco, Draco, Draco.

He still wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing. Some part of him that he didn't understand was yelling at him to go back, change what he did, this isn't right. It was telling him that he'd made the biggest mistake of his life, that he had left the love of his life behind.

But the rational side of him was saying no, this was the right thing. Draco had lied to him about who he was, about who Harry was. How could he just move past something like that?

No, Harry thought firmly, trying to convince his brain to see sense. Draco got what he deserved. He should have told me, he should have told me that I could be in even more danger than I am already being his mate.

As much as Harry wanted to go back to Draco, to undo everything that had happened and just go back to the perfect little life they had together, Harry knew that couldn't happen. This was a betrayal down to the core. How could he ever trust Draco again? As much as it hurt Harry so deeply, he knew he'd have to move past the heartbreak and start fresh.

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The summer had zipped by as fast as possible, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting in the Great Hall listening to Dumbledore's welcome speech as their fifth year began.

Harry could barely hear Dumbledore, his brain was so fuzzy. It was as if he was underwater, listening to the muffled sounds around him, not really paying attention.

An uncomfortable feeling in his chest surged through him; it had been there ever since the day he and Draco had gone their separate ways. The thought brought a sick feeling to Harry's stomach.

Unable to stop himself, Harry stole a glance over to the Slytherin table, searching for those grey eyes amongst the sea of green.

But there weren't any. No eyes caught his. No blush or smile mirrored his own, not this time. This time, there were no eyes, no secret glances, no hurried exchanges. Because Draco Malfoy wasn't there.

Sitting up a bit straighter, Harry craned his neck to look along the length of the hall. Draco really wasn't there. Then where was he?

A wave of worry and anxiety crashed over him as Harry realised the implications of this. Was Draco avoiding him? Would he ever see him again? Where on earth was he?

Harry felt his heart tug a significant amount and swallowed to try and keep his tears from falling. He'd done his best to ignore how he felt over the past few weeks, pushing away any thoughts of Draco. He tried not to think about the way they'd laughed, tried not to think about the way they'd danced, the feel of Draco's hands on his waist. Tried not to think about the kisses, soft touches and electric 'I love you's'.

But this... This was too much. If Draco really had gone, if he really wasn't coming back.. If Harry would never see him again... He didn't know how he could handle it.

"Harry?"

Hermione's voice yanked Harry from his thoughts as he looked up to see a pair of brown eyes meet his own worriedly.

"You haven't touched the food," Hermione said, gesturing to the platters piled high with all sorts of delicacies. Harry hadn't even realised the feast had begun. Merlin, he was out of it.

"I... I'm not hungry," Harry replied, looking anywhere but at Hermione.

He could feel her hard, burning stare pierce through him, but he still refused to look at her.

"Harry, this needs to stop," Hermione hissed under her breath so as not to alert the other Gryffindors.

Not that it mattered; Ron was busy stuffing his face with a large chicken leg, whilst Dean and Seamus giggled with each other, completely immersed in their own conversation. Harry didn't miss the hand Seamus held on Dean's thigh.

"You're making yourself ill," Hermione continued, putting her cutlery down. "You need to talk to Draco! It's the only way this will be resolved."

Harry scoffed, and before he could stop himself he said, "I'm afraid Hermione, I've already talked to him. We're not together anymore." Harry's eyes widened at what he'd just let slip.

He hadn't wanted to tell her that. He hadn't wanted to tell anyone. Saying it out loud would make it real. He'd just wanted to brush it all under the rug and pretend none of it ever happened.

Hermione's expression mirrored his own. She looked horrified. "Harry, you didn't!" She hissed, grabbing the boy's arm and hauling him out of his seat, ignoring the protests from himself and Ron.

Dragging the raven-haired boy out of the Great Hall, Hermione rounded on him once they were out of earshot of everyone else.

"You rejected him, didn't you?!" She cried, putting a hand to her forehead and breathing heavily.

Harry was shocked.

"Hermione! What's the big deal? We just broke up! Yes I rejected him, because he lied to me! He lied about being a Veriae, which might I remind you, I found out from you, not him! He betrayed me, Hermione, he got what he deserved! As heartbroken as I am, it couldn't continue," Harry explained, and sighed. He tried his best to force the tears down that were threatening to make an escape.

"Harry, I wanted you to talk to Draco! Have a civil conversation with your boyfriend, about what this means for the both of you! Yes, he lied to you, but did you even ask why? He was just trying to protect you! You were never supposed to reject him!" Hermione cried, exasperated. What she done? She put her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Had she just indirectly murdered someone? Oh, Merlin.

This was never what she intended. She just wanted Harry to talk to Draco. She had wanted him to know the dangers, yes, but none of that seemed to matter now. Harry had taken the worst route possible. She should have seen it coming. Through all her own thoughts and feelings on the situation, how she knew it would be dangerous for Harry to be Draco's mate, she never in a million years thought Harry would reject him. She thought he loved him...

Hermione closed her eyes at her idiocy. She should have told Harry the truth sooner. She should have told him what really happens when a mate rejects his Veriae.

"Look, Harry... I spoke to Draco," Hermione tried, testing the words carefully on her tongue. There was no use in telling Harry this now, after the damage had been done, but perhaps she could help him to understand.

"What?!" Harry crossed his arms defensively and looked at his friend. "About what? When?"

Hermione's stomach was turning over and over as she fiddled with her fingers, not meeting Harry's piercing stare.

"During the third task. When you were in the maze," she explained.

"I was angry at Draco," she explained, finally looking up to meet Harry's eyes. "I accused him of playing a game with you, and I told him he wasn't strong enough to protect you. I was just trying to help, I was looking out for you; I was worried about you.

"But I saw it in his eyes, he loves you Harry. He wants to protect you as best he can, that's all he's ever wanted for you! That's why he didn't tell you straight away, he wasn't sure how you'd react, and he didn't want the information to get into the wrong hands! And now... and now..."

He's probably dead.

She couldn't bring herself to say it, not in front of Harry. How could she explain it to him? She hadn't been able to tell him the first time, how could she tell him now? It would kill Harry.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Harry whispered hoarsely. He felt as if his throat were constricting his airways. He was finding it difficult to breathe. Draco really loved him? This wasn't all some massive game?

"We couldn't find you anywhere Harry," Hermione said sadly. "You just vanished after the third task. We didn't see you again until Grimmauld place, and by that time, you were... well..."

Heartbroken.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt like the worst friend in the world. "This is all my fault."

"No, Hermione, it's not your fault," Harry sighed, his patience thinning. "I needed to know. Thank you for trying to help."

Harry quickly embraced her to show his gratitude, but now he was as distracted as ever.

Quickly turning away from Hermione, Harry made his way down the corridor, ignoring Hermione's calls after him.

He felt bad for leaving her like that in the middle of the corridor - she was just trying to apologise, but what else could he say? His head was spinning, he missed Draco, he wanted to put things right, he wished this had never happened, now he was losing his friends, Draco, Draco, Draco.

Harry's thoughts raced at a hundred miles an hour as his legs carried him out of the castle towards the black glow of the lake.

Within minutes he arrived at the spot where he and Draco had shared their amazing french picnic, talking about nothing and everything at the same time, sharing their deepest fears and sweetest dreams, sharing kisses and touches and soft whispers. The first and only time they'd said 'I love you.'

Harry sat down heavily on the bank of the lake, looking out across it. That felt like a lifetime ago, now. Tears welled up in his eyes as the uncomfortable gnawing in his chest grew steadily worse the more he thought about Draco.

Merlin, he missed him. So much. The memory of leaving him in the middle of the dungeons Harry knew would haunt him for a very long time. As much as he wished he could simply push his feelings down, he knew there was no escape from this heartbreak. The book had said that the Veriae's mate feels almost the exact same pain that the Veriae itself feels, only a little less intensely. It was physical and emotional.

Harry had no idea how long it would last, but if there was one thing he did know, it was that he was missing a part of himself. He had never felt this deeply for anyone or anything ever in his life. Not even Ron or Hermione. This was so different. This was a love that was passionate, electrifying, all-consuming. And Harry had thrown it away.

Simply chucked it like it was nothing, like there was no meaning to it. But there was. There was so much meaning. And no matter how hard Harry tried to convince himself that Draco meant nothing to him anymore, the worse the pain inside him grew.

And where was Draco now? He'd seemingly vanished - Harry hadn't seen him on the platform, on the train, nor in the Great Hall. Had he really just abandoned Hogwarts, his friends and Harry?

Harry's eyes widened as the realisation set in. No. He wouldn't leave him. Surely not. Where would he go? But he's not here. Then where?!

Not realising he was freely crying now, Harry pulled his sleeve over his hand and sobbed into it, thankful that everyone was still inside at the feast.

"What am I going to do," Harry whispered to himself as he put his head in his hands, staring at the rocks under his feet.

Just then, a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Whipping his head round, Harry noticed something stuck under one of the rocks just to the right of him. He hadn't noticed it before, he was too busy reeling in his thoughts.

Crawling over to it, Harry lifted the rock and gasped as his eyes laid on a single, large black feather tinged with green at the tip, gleaming in the late evening sunlight.

This could only mean one thing; Draco was here? At Hogwarts? Harry let out a relieved laugh, almost hysterical at the thought. He hadn't left.

As his fingers made contact with the feather, Harry covered his mouth to stop himself crying out. The feather cut clean through his finger, spilling crimson red blood into the pebbles around him.

Harry withdrew his hand as fast as he could in shock. What on earth? His brain traced back to the year before, after Hermione had shown him the feather she'd found in the library. The same thing had happened to her when she'd touched it. She'd explained to Harry that it was because she wasn't Draco's mate... So did that mean..?

No, this made no sense, Harry thought, staring with furrowed brows at the feather as panic began circling at the pit of his stomach. I could always touch Draco's feathers, I'm his mate, they should be soft to my touch. Shouldn't they?

Harry ran his clean hand through his hair as the relief he'd felt so briefly began to dissipate from him at an alarming rate, waves of panic replacing it, crashing over him even faster.

Just as he was about to let out a sob of helplessness, another glimmer caught his eye from a little further up the bank.

Scrambling towards it, hardly daring to breathe, Harry found himself looking down on another feather.

This is insane Harry thought to himself. What was going on here? Where was Draco? Oh, Merlin, what if he was hurt?

Looking around him along the bank, Harry spotted yet another feather, the exact same shape and colour, a few feet away from this one. Looking past that, Harry noticed another and another... A trail.

Taking care not to touch any of the feathers, Harry frantically made his way to one after the other, following the trail until he reached the border between the bank of the lake and the forbidden forest.

Taking a deep breath, Harry drew himself into the trees, stealing a quick glance behind him to make sure no one saw him.

Turning back to the path ahead, Harry spotted the next feather and began to follow the trail leading deeper into the woods. Harry's eyes strained against the darkening surroundings, the sun almost having set behind the hills in the distance.

Harry had no idea what he was looking for, or what he might find at the end of it. All he knew was that he had to keep going. It was as if an invisible rope was tugging at him, pulling him deeper into the forest.

It had been several minutes before Harry found himself standing in front of the vines leading to his and Draco's special place.

Harry swallowed nervously. It had been a long while since he'd been here. The last memories of this place he had were waking up in the dark, cold and alone.

Forcing any tears down that threatened to make an appearance, Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket and began to walk the figure of eight motion between the trees, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves. He could do this.

As expected, the vines opened up slightly, and Harry cautiously made his way through them, fearful of what he might find on the other side.

Finding himself standing on the plinth just above the stream, Harry surveyed his surroundings. Everything was still. The flow of the water was gentle, and no wind flowed through the trees. There was no birdsong, nothing. It felt... dead.

Harry drew a shaky breath and looked down at the ground below him. The feathers were still there, leading him down the steps and across the bridge.

Harry walked slowly on shaky legs across the bridge, his palms sweating as the feathers stopped just past the edge of the trees where he had fallen unconscious just a few months before.

Harry stopped still and listened intently to the silence. He fancied he could hear some birdsong off in the distance, but Harry knew nothing was here. It was as if all the colour and life had been stripped from his and Draco's secret place.

Then a twig snapped.

Harry jumped out of his skin, grabbing his wand tightly and bringing it up in front of him quickly.

"Who's there?" Harry barked, determined not to let his nerves seep into his voice.

A muffled groan came from just inside the tree line, and Harry cautiously stepped through, his wand still trained on the source of the noise.

Turning a sharp bend in the trees, a horrified gasp left Harry's lungs as he stared at the sight before him.

Draco Malfoy lay, crumpled in a heap on the tree floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. His wings were frail and looked to Harry as if they were breaking, drooping downwards. They were not the spectacle Harry had seen that day in the dungeons. Feathers littered the ground around Draco, and his skin was as white as snow. He was thin and ragged, he looked as if he hadn't eaten properly for weeks. Harry could see the bones in his hand outlined sharply beneath his skin. He was shivering profusely, and his lips had turned a pale shade of blue.

"Draco..." Harry put a hand to his mouth, nausea circling through him as he took in the frail form before him.

Pale eyelids peeled open as Draco raised his head slightly towards the source of the voice. Harry recognised a flash of something in the boy's eyes before it was gone all too quickly.

"Harry," whispered the hoarse voice as shining silver eyes met his own.

"I'm dying."