Into the Darkness

Draco grinned and walked silently through the once green park. He had so many memories of this place; it was, after all, on the grounds of the school he once attended. The castle was behind him, collapsing from harsh annihilation done to it. The trees were wilting and the once glittering pond had a repulsive film over top of it. The Hogwarts' ground was a battlefield, filled with lifeless bodies and hooded figures hovering over them, grinning wickedly. Students' bodies were thrown all around him. They were being tortured; the Death Eaters so maliciously and yet so easily mutilating their bodies.

The once lively Colin Creevey was thrown across a low wall, his bones broken at every angle. His brother was trying to pull a rather bloody knife out of his stomach but failing miserably. Lavender Brown's pretty face was horrifically marred and covered in blood spouting from gashes within.

Screams of horror and cries of pain surrounded him before finally seeking refuge in his ears. They were sounds he celebrated. Never in his life had he wanted to turn from the dark side, but now here he was, enveloped by people that were begging to convert from the good. They wanted to commit themselves to a life of evil in order to save their own lives. The dark lord doesn't spare possible traitors. One by one the screams faded. Death swooped over the grounds, claiming lives that never wanted to go.

He had just come from the most unpleasant task of killing two of the most annoying people in the world. The bushy headed Mudblood had been extremely hard to murder. The disgusting weasel, Ron, kept getting in the way. Draco smiled just thinking about it...

The house was plain and simple, just like he thought a Weasel and Mudblood would live. They were standing in their poor excuse for a bedroom with their wands drawn. His partners in crime were around them, closing in for the kill.

"No need. I've got it," Draco said smoothly to the lingering companions out to help him.

Hermione straightened up, looking Draco in the eyes. Hers were scared but confidence was itching to give way.

"You won't win Malfoy. The Dark Lord will diminish because Harry will save us all."

Draco sneered. "You're wrong Mudblood. Harry's dying. Do you want to know who's killing him?" He looked round at the pathetic weasel standing shoulder to shoulder with the Mudblood and almost cried out in laughter. "It's one of you," he said, nodding toward him, suppressing the inner sadist that should have come out years ago.

Ron made a cry of disgust. "You're lying. I swear Malfoy, I'll make you eat your words. You'll regret you ever turned to You-Know-Who's side."

"Voldemort, Weasel, his name is Voldemort. Now, stand still next to your wife there. I want to make this as clean as possible, these shoes are brand new," he said, forcing the two to look at them.

Ron instinctively moved in front of Hermione, hoping to protect her from Malfoy's evil, but to no avail, because the last words he was soon to hear chorused through both his and Hermione's their bodies.

"Avada Kedavra," he muttered and Ron fell into Hermione's clutches. He was dying, thankfully.

Hermione screamed, screaming as if she would never stop. Within seconds he grew annoyed and repeated the spell lazily for her as well.

The war was now over. The Dark Lord had finally won. All who opposed him were being killed. The battleground was evidence. Draco would finally be able to lead his life of evil. He wouldn't have to hide his loyalty to Voldemort. No longer would he have to worry about killing innocent people and going to Azkaban for it. The entire world would be malice, and Azkaban would only be needed to contain Aurors.

Laughter led him to a secluded part in the park. There was a bench overlooking the small lake under a shady oak tree. It was romantic and Draco was sure it was a scene for lovers. In fact, two former lovers were indeed on the bench. They were saying their good-byes. The couple brought a smile to his face. What he did know, and he knew very little, of love was that in order for the relationship to work, both persons should, first and fore mostly, be alive--this, however, was not going to be the case.

Ginny Weasley held the dying Harry Potter in her arms. She was slowly tracing his jaw, taunting him with slow and deadly kisses. Her hands were placed over the bleeding hole in his stomach. A hole that she had made venomously seconds before. She spoke soft but intense to the dying man, who had once been the hero of the story.

"Harry, I still love you," she said, her voice cold as ice, lips parted in a ruthless sneer. "It's not you... it's me. You see I've found someone new, someone who makes me happy, and someone who will do anything for me. So I'm willing to do anything for him. Anything, Harry, even if it means killing you - the boy I once loved."

Harry shuddered in her arms, fighting back the freezing cold that came with death. He opened his mouth, perhaps to convince Ginny that she still did love him.

Draco, though feeling a surge of pride, couldn't help but pity the poor soul. Harry was in immense pain, and every second of this image made him snicker out loud.

"I love him," Ginny continued, taking on that same cold voice. "I adore him. You always said you wanted me to be happy. Oh, Harry, I am happy. I'll be happier now that you're gone. It's better this way, Harry! It was a test, you see, a test, Harry. He wants to see if I'll be a suitable wife for him. I want to show him that I am. That I'll never let him down; that he can always count on me. Can you ever forgive me, darling?"

Harry was still shaking avidly. He was growing weaker by the minute. It was even stranger when his voice, so forced she could feel him straining it, rang out saying, "What's happened to you?" He raised a bloody, cut hand to her cheek and brushed her slightly. She could feel his dirtiness. "Where has my Ginny gone? Where's my sweet, innocent Ginny..." She nuzzled against his hand out of habit but pulled away when she remembered the task at hand.

"Don't you see? This is your Ginny. I'm not weak anymore. When I was sweet and innocent, people took advantage of me. He helped me see this! He helped me become... me. The new me. I'll take care of myself, I promise!" With a long kiss, Ginny slipped the knife she had been holding across his throat and watched him perish.

Harry made no sound when he died; his eyes were just wide and his face was filled with shock.

She stood up, let him fall to the bench with a dull thud and turned, smiling, her eyes now focused on Draco. "Hello darling!" she called. She ran to him and pressed her lips against him hard. He smiled and let her tongue flick in, licking his teeth. "Oh poop," she said suddenly, breaking away from the kiss. "He soiled my clothes!"

Draco looked down to see her pink shirt and white jeans stained with blood. And Harry Potter's blood at that.

"We'll buy you new ones," he said, slipping an arm around her tiny waist.

"You promise?" She was extremely cute when she pouted.

Draco nodded. "I promise."

With a last kiss on the nose, Draco led his beloved across the park and into eternal darkness, knowing this was now the norm, and they would learn to live in it - as a couple: together.