Shadows

Shadows    

Rain poured down on a small back alley as a shadow crossed the lamplight. The lamp flickered and died, seeming to sense the presence of grief and total surrender to time. The unceasing rain pounded from above, drumming on the houses and disappearing into the darkness. Thunder echoed through the hills around the small valley, and lightning cracked overhead in the pitch-black moonless sky. A cloak whipped in the wind, shivering arms wrapped themselves together, shoes clattered across the pavement. The shadow was moving away from the town, and up a winding path to a place that no one dared to go.

    Lightning illuminated the hooded figure, head down, trudging through the mud. The once joyfully worn path was overgrown and unused. Hundreds of feet had stepped lightly here, in the past. Happily running, playing, dancing. Now it was a damp memento of the present, a memory of what had been before, a horrible reminder of what was to come. The path wound through what had once been a forest, growing tall and thriving through the years. The figure looked up long enough to see the charred stumps, overgrown weeds, and barren land before turning its head to look at its feet once more. It walked over a bridge without a second glance at the dark, stony crevice that had once held the purest of waters.

    At last, the figure halted. Slowly, two delicate white hands lifted the hood, the figure looking straight ahead. Fragile, fine strands of silver hair blew off with the wind, dancing in the night air before falling to the ground. Dull, detached icy gray eyes watched the scene before them without a trace of emotion, without revealing what they held inside. The man walked to the edge of the path, and gazed out at the destruction that met his eyes.

    It had once been a mansion, or so the people in the village said. The inhabitants had been loved, for they had loved without reserve and without judgment. These doors had been open to anyone who wished to stay. The man closed his eyes, letting the feeling of the place take him.

    He could sense the presence of the couple that had lived here, laughing with happiness, dancing with each other, talking by the fireside, understanding what was not said aloud, falling asleep in love. He could sense the pride they had in their child, the joy they had in watching him grow up. The games they played, the words they spoke, the first time the child walked and said ‘Daddy’. All these memories, burned to the ground like the place they gave up to save a life. The man could sense the love. Love was everywhere, despite the devastation, despite the haunting feeling of death. Love for life, and love for everything in it, but especially love for each other. The man opened his eyes once more, salted raindrops falling from his stormy eyes. He brought himself back, from the dream world they had lived in, to the harsh reality this world really was. He took his wand from his pocket and looked at it. It was black, sleek, and had the core of dragon heartstring. He had grown up with this wand, had achieved some of his greatest triumphs with it. And then, he had made his greatest mistake. He took one last look at it before throwing it as hard as he could into the ruin before him. There was a crack, a puff of smoke, and he knew that it was gone.

    Then the shadow man sat down there, on the edge of the path, and his eyes and heart broke. The curtains that had been pulled over his heart by the past months were pulled back, revealing the feelings that had been locked up inside for so long. The man rocked back and forth, crying for what he had lost, for what he had thrown away. He cried for the one person he had loved, the one person he had needed to lose.

    The man remembered the realization. The sudden understanding of the link. That to kill one would undoubtedly annihilate the other. That in order to defeat the supreme evil, he had to destroy his passion, his life. He remembered the research, the notes, and the books he pored over late into the night, trying to find another way. But there had been no other way. Thinking back, he began to comprehend there would have been no alternative.

    The man buried his face his in hands as the memories came back to him. The letter. Calling love to him, telling his love to see him at once. A surprise, he had called it. He needed to show him something, tell him something. And his love had believed him. Believed that he wanted an afternoon alone. Believed that he wanted some time off from fighting the Dark Alliance. Believed everything he told him.

The arrival had been almost too much. It had been raining when his love’s car pulled up in the man’s front yard. The roses had been glistening with raindrops, and the grass was a beautiful green. The world smelled fresh and new. A smell of beginnings...not endings. He had gotten out of his car without worrying, without pausing. He had walked up to the man smiling, his eyes alive and alight behind wet frames.

“Hello, love. What would you like to do today?” he had asked, still beaming. The man shuddered as he remembered the look on his face. It had been something he had never seen before. Complete trust and love.

The man had then closed the gap between them, had drawn his wand out of his back pocket. He had looked down on the boy that was his love, his life, his very reason for existence, and had smiled.

“I love you, Harry,” he had whispered, blinded by tears. He meant it, too. He meant it more than anything he had ever said in his life. He wanted to say other things as well, but he couldn’t even form those feelings into words. The feelings he had for this boy, this ordinary yet incredible boy.

“I love you too, Draco,” the boy called Harry had whispered back. Those were the words Draco had needed to hear. His whole life, he had been waiting for this moment, and now, he had to destroy it. Harry had said he loved Draco with such meaning, and with such trust and devotion, that Draco couldn’t see for the tears. Harry wiped Draco’s tears away, and kissed him.

Draco kissed him back softly, and embraced him as though it were the last time he ever could. He removed Harry’s glasses, and placed them delicately in his pocket. He held Harry close, feeling Harry’s heart beat with his own, the rain and tears dripping off of Draco’s head onto Harry’s. Draco pulled back after a moment, gave Harry his first really true, genuine smile, and slowly raised his wand.

“Avada Kedavra.”

Fin.