"His name was Harry Potter, little one. And I fear I will spend the rest of my life telling all who I meet of him. It's the only way I know how to keep him close to me. If I could paint I would fill this world with paintings of him. If I could sit down and write I would fill this world with stories of him. If I could pull him from Death's grasp and fill this world with him I would learn to conquer Death itself." Draco and turned back to look at the stars. His breath slowing as the wine in his system made him tired and content enough to sleep in the field of grass. 