Bang, Bang

I was five and he was six,
We rode on horses made of sticks.
He wore black and I wore white,
He would always win the fight.
Bang, bang,
He shot me down.
Bang, bang,
I hit the ground.
Bang, bang, that awful sound.
Bang, bang,
My baby shot me down.

Slowly, the white moon rose over the horizon. The hillsides were dark and clogged with smoke thick as fog. The bloody field glimmered red under the piercing, pure light. The dark shadows of fallen bodies and their mourning lovers and families were silhouetted against the dark sky, the stars twinkling above them.

In the center of the field, a hero, covered in blood and dirt, stood, towering over a body. The slumped figure before him, the death that he had thrust upon it, brought more joy than could be mustered to his heart. He was the one who had ended it all. He had finished the reign of an evil lord. He had murdered him, and it worked so perfectly.

Oh, he'd made sure he'd had a painful death. Screaming Avada Kedavra wasn't enough for such an devious wizard. Oh no, the hero had given him reasons to scream in pain, he had stabbed a leash into his cold neck and had lead him through all nine terrifying levels of Hell, as described in Dante's Inferno. He had shown him new paths of torture and pain, and when he was done, he was satisfied with his work. What was left of the lord was now a twitching mass of blood and flesh before him, and nothing much left.

He heard someone approaching. He turned, smiling. He knew who it was. When he saw the outstretched arm pointed at him. holding a wand that had brought an untimely fate to so many wizards and witches, his smile faded.

"Draco."

"Harry."

Seasons came and changed the time,
When I grew up I called him mine.
He would always laugh and say,
"Remember when we used to play?"
Bang, bang,
I shot you down.
Bang, bang,
You hit the ground.
Bang, bang, that awful sound.
Bang, bang,
I used to shoot you down.

Harry took a glance at his lover's face. What had once glowed soft with emotions bursting with love was now full of sadness. His tear stained cheeks had paths from where the tears had fallen down his face. Harry knew what he had come to do.

"I didn't know you'd follow him," he said gently.

"There are a lot of things about me you don't know, Harry," Draco responded almost inaudibly. More tears slipped down his cheeks.

"I loved you," Harry said quietly, knowing his fate.

"I know," Draco responded softly, drawing in a quivering breath. "This is really hard for me to do, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Just get it done with."

"I will always love you."

"I know you're lying, Draco," Harry said coldly, finding no energy to let tears spring to his eyes.

"I have to fight for my beliefs," Draco said tearfully.

"I guess that means that you do have to kill me," Harry said morosely. "I just wish you'd do it."

Music played, the people sang,
Just for me, the church bells rang.

Draco bit his lip, not knowing what to say.

"Remember all the good times we had?" Harry asked dully, a lump in his throat. "Remember... remember that time we... we set fire to the neighbor's cat?"

Draco couldn't help laughing. "Y-yeah... that... that was pretty funny, wasn't it?"

"And remember the time you tried to cook?"

"Yeah, and I set the whole stove on fire. You were brave that day." Draco drew in a quivering breath. "You kept me safe."

"Haven't I always?" Harry questioned, smiling faintly.

Draco nodded as his tears fell. "I'm really sorry, but I have to do this."

"Let me see your arm."

Draco handed Harry his arm, the one not holding the wand. That hand he had positioned by Harry's neck. Harry pulled Draco's sleeve up.

Blemishing the skin was the mark of the Dark Lord.

Now he's gone, I don't know why,
And till this day, sometimes I cry.
He didn't even say goodbye,
He didn't take the time to lie.

"You betrayed me."

"You should never trust anyone, Harry," Draco sobbed. "Not even me."

Harry nodded and Draco kissed him one last time. It was slow and gentle and full of sadness, of parting. Then, Draco pulled away, and barely managed to say,

"Avada Kedavra."

He watched the searing light pierce his love's body. He watched his love's face twist in pain. He watched as his dear, his lover, his only one, fall to his knees, then to the ground, a beautiful hero dying gallantly. Draco drew in a breath.

He'd done it.

He was now a hero. A hero for the wrong side. The few remaining Death Eaters cheered, while Draco sobbed silently. Then, he, too, dropped to his knees. He pointed the wand at his chest, and, choking back a sob, he whispered,

"Avada Kedavra."

Bang, bang,
He shot me down.
Bang, bang,
I hit the ground.
Bang, bang, that awful sound.
Bang, bang,
My baby shot me down...