3rd POV

Before leaving Hogwarts, Harry returned to his quarters, and what was at the table made his heart ache. The album, the flowers, the cake, the scarf, the letter...

He couldn't bring himself to read the letter, simply stuffing it in his bag and not giving it a second glance, then shrunk the album so it would fit there as well, taking Draco's scarf in his hand and leaving the cake and flowers behind.

He couldn't stop himself from bringing the scarf to his nose, taking in Draco's scent as tears fell down his cheeks, before he put it in his bag and closed it, with no intention of taking it out of there again.

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A few weeks later...

The Golden Trio had begun their hunt for the Horcruxes right after their encounter with the Death Eaters as they tried to bring Harry to safety.

They knew they couldn't sit back and wait anymore, so they packed and started looking for the Horcruxes, never entirely sure where they were heading.

They had finally destroyed the Slytherin locket, and were trying to figure out what their next move would be.

Despite what he told himself, Harry spent every night hugged to Draco's scarf, pretending everything was fine, hoping to wake up and see him laying next to him, but that never happened.

He kept the letter with him, but refused to read it, despite Hermione's tries to get him to. He couldn't do it, he was scared of what Draco could have possibly wrote.

Every night, at the exact moment the first star appeared in the sky, Harry's bracelet warmed up, and every night he was tempted to tap back, but he never did.

Despite everything, he still loved Draco, no matter how hard he tried to forget all about him, his heart would never belong to anyone else but him, and that made him angry.

That was the cycle every night, his thoughts before he fell into another restless sleep, hoping one day they would be okay.

Harry currently sat outside their tent, while Ron and Hermione talked, and he thought of everything. In his hand, he held a picture of him and Draco, lost in what he believed back then to be genuine laughter, their eyes shining as they tickled each other, and he wanted to look away and burn it, but he couldn't.

He sighed and looked up, waiting for the first star to appear in the darkening sky, knowing Draco would be looking at it too, as he blinked away tears.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned around to find Ron and Hermione there, smiling sadly as they sat next to them.

"We don't you just take the bracelet off?"

Ron asked, and Hermione have him a stern look.

"Because it's the only way to know he's alive..."

Harry replied in a very low and barely audible tone, and Hermione hugged him.

"Oh, Harry..."

She said, and Harry sighed, burying his face on her shoulder as he let himself cry, comforted by the support of his two best friends.

As he calmed down, Harry wiped his tears away and sniffled, rubbing his eyes and looking back up to the sky, seeing the first star slowly become visible, and his bracelet warmed up.

Ron and Hermione looked up too, because no matter what happened, Draco was their friend at some point, and they hoped things could go back to normal.

"Read the letter..."

Hermione whispered, and Harry shook his head.

"Letter? What letter?"

Ron asked, confused, and Harry shrugged, as Hermione sighed.

"Draco wrote him a letter, but he doesn't want to read it."

Hermione explained, and Ron frowned at Harry.

"What if he explains why he did all this?"

Ron asked.

"What if he confirms he played me all along and he never loved me?"

Harry retaliated, and the group fell into silence.

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Draco's POV

I'm going crazy.

Everyone's desperately looking for Harry, wanting to find him and kill him, always plotting and trying to find ways to coldly murder him, make him feel pain, and my insides twist every time they mention that.

They're thirsty to have my angel's blood in their hands, and there's nothing I can do about it, which makes me feel sick.

I want a sign, anything to tell me he's alive, but there's nothing. I just want to know he's safe, breathing, that's all that matters.

Sometimes I wonder is he looks up at the sky whenever he feels the bracelet warm up, or if he even figured that out.

There's a part of my that tells me he took it off, he doesn't wear it anymore, but I don't want to believe that, I'd feel it if he wasn't wearing it, right?

Every night I sleep in his sweater, the only thing that makes me feel close to him, and wish he'd come save me from this hell hole, take me in his arms and run away with me, but why would he?

I betrayed him, I deserve this feeling of emptiness, he doesn't. Does he even think of me?

I spend most of the time hidden in my room, listening to the radio announcing who died, scared to hear Harry's name.

I just want him to be okay, in safety, but I know that's probably not the case.

He has half of the wizarding world after him, of course he's not safe and happy. But that doesn't mean I want him to be any less, I really do hope he's found some way to feel that.

And a part of me also hoped he didn't move on, it would break my heart even more, I don't think I could take it.

A knock on my door pulled me away from my thoughts, and I looked up to see who's there.

"Draco, come downstairs, you're needed."

I heard my dad's cold voice and shivered in fear, that never meant anything good.

"What for?"

I asked, and the words that came out of his mouth next made my heart stop.

"We found him."