The End

Title: The End

Summary: All he could see was the still form of his lover and Harry felt as if his very heart had split in two.

Warning: Death Fic. Drabble.

All he could see was the still form of his lover and Harry felt as if his very heart had split in two. The very air crackled with magic and one could taste the sour tang of blood. “No.” the word passed trembling lips, eyes watering but no tears fell as of yet. Wand forgotten Harry crawled to where his lovers cloaked body laid on its front and his fingers curled within the folds of the coarse fabric. “God no.” He turned over the limp body… and his heart stopped.

Glassy eyes stared back at him, the life that had sparked in them that very morning was gone. Shaky hands brushed aside strands of hair that escaped it thong binding and Harry couldn’t have cared less that the Dark Lord hovered above him wand pointed at him. “Draco… baby… wake up.”

“It ends now Potter.”

Harry ignored the wizard as he cupped his lovers cooling cheeks, cheeks which that morning flushed with orgasm. “Please, don’t leave me.” His tears finally fell and his body sagged, brow resting on his lovers as he softly begged, he didn’t want to be alone, “You promised.”
“Any last words?” Voldemort pushed, angry that he was being ignored. With a snarl he reached out and grabbed a handful of the Gryffindor’s hair and tugged so the boy was standing if a bit unsteady.

Broken, Harry felt broken. There was nothing left for him in this world, he only fought for his lover, the one person who saw past the scar. Draco had promised him a forever and Harry had promised to rid Voldemort purely so his snobbish lover wasn’t a slave to an insane wizard. The seconds ticked and Harry was unaware that his thoughts were read and Voldemort felt something in him tighten. “Tom.”
Voldemort’s wand pressed deeply into the underside of the young man’s chin. “What say you Potter?” It was pathetic, where was the glory in killing the last thorn in his side when said thorn was broken enough to beg for death.

“Kill me.”

It tightened again, Voldemort wasn’t sure what that it was but what that it was, was annoying him. This should be a great victory, one that would be written in the history books… maybe not all of Voldemort’s humanity had left him. Sympathy, maybe that was it… maybe that was this odd emotion he felt burning a hole through him. Glancing down at the dead body of one of his followers he knew that Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t be pleased in the least.

“Please…” Harry begged as more tears spilled, this pain was unbearable. “I can’t… I can’t…. please…”

Voldemort wasn’t sure what possessed him, “Avada,” His wand tip glowed that familiar green and the relief that washed over his enemies face should have stopped him. He was a cruel wizard, a wizard who could easily toss the boy on the ground and keep him alive for eternity allowing him to bask in the pain. It would only be fair and Voldemort wasn’t a fair man. “Kedavra.”

Potter’s dead body fell to the ground and it was over, he had won. He tightened his grip on his wand and turned on his heels; a silent signal to his Death Eater’s who rounded what was left of the opposition. This wasn’t how he envisioned the world to end. There shouldn’t have been sympathy, he shouldn’t hold that emotion. The Horcruxes should have killed that human part of him.

He had won, Voldemort had won. He would dwell on that. He had won and Potter was dead. He had won.

End