Butterbones

"Master..."

Wine. Candles. Satin. A smell of incense left from the night's revelries. Cakes of butter still on the plate on the tray by the bed. A bit of toast still left uneaten. Moonlight poured in from the doorway, painting their limbs in liquid hues if blue and lighter blue, two strange ethereal moon creatures that lay entwined on the sheets.

"Severus..."

A hand came up to twine fingers through his hair. It was more of a claw, but Severus kissed it, allowing yellow nails to scrape along his chin, caressing the upturned palm against his cheek. A shifting of their bodies, careful and cautious, so as not to hurt one another. Just a couple of bony poking skeletons with a layer of skin between them. But Severus managed to breath a little and bent down to kiss his Master, enjoying the velvet feel of those thin, pale lips.

"I'll make you a potion, Master, you'll be beautiful again..."

"No, Severus, you save it, save your bit of torn soul to make yourself immortal, like me..."

"And you will show me how?"

"We will be two twin candles in the darkness that will never burn out..."

Severus bent down to kiss those lips again repeatedly, cupping the hairless crown of Lord Voldemort's head with his hands.

"Beautiful..." a breathed word, a sucking in of heated breath.

"Tell me again Severus..." a ragged cough. "Where did you put our horcruxes...?"

"Where no man on earth would ever think to look..." Severus lied gently. "Where no man would dare to..."

Severus hadn't the heart to tell the man that they were both already destroyed, the horcruxes. Wasted pieces of their souls, destroyed by a boy who no longer knew how to feel, how to care. A boy who was besotted now by thoughts of lust and revenge.

"We'll be together forever, right Severus?"

A moment of flashing light and Harry Potter stepped towards him, a maniacal light in glinting green eyes.

"You can't hide him forever. I'll find him, I'll destroy him, I'll destroy you both!"

Apparating away to safety. But they were never really safe. Harry Potter would sweep the globe in his relentless search for them both.

"Of course we will," Severus bit on his lower lip and reached his fingertips up to touch twin eyelids gently. "Rest My Lord... My Love..."

Voldemort was dying. Severus could see that every breath pained him. Every intake of air was a struggle, a terrible desperate tugging of his ribs.

Tonight my love...we have tonight...

Severus knew Potter was near, in this city, perhaps on the very street, watching their window, a hungry green eyed tiger in the darkness ready to pounce, to grasp with hungry claws the two fragile beings who wanted nothing more now than each other.

"Paradise Severus...will God forgive us...do you think?"

"I think we'll have to pay a penance one day," Severus admitted, resting his head on his lover's chest. "But we have all the time in the world until then to live..."

"Live...yes...it would be nice to live...for once. I've never really lived until you came into my life..."

A desperate coughing of lungs, a dribble of blood at pale lips. Severus reached for the white hankerchief on the bedside table and dabbed away the crimson spittle. He shifted his body again to allow him access to the tray, where a glass of water rested.

I will not give Potter the satisfaction of killing us...Severus thought, reaching for the glass with shaking hand. I will make my plan...

"No water Severus..." Voldemort lifted a hand to scrape against Severus' bare chest. "I think I need another potion..."

"Yes...My Lord..."

Severus rose, nude, and went over to the cabinet where he kept the potions. His Lord lay breathing unsteadily, waiting, an expectation in his eyes that Severus could feel was keen and sharp, with hidden layers of understanding. Did Voldemort know? Did he suspect?

"The Potion, Severus..."

"Lover..." Severus poured the potion into the water...clear...all the qualities of their friendship. "Master..."

"My beloved...you are crying?"

"You are beautiful to me..." Severus said gently, helping his Lord to drink. "So beautiful..."

"Beauty in the eyes of the beholder..." Voldemort breathed, lowering his eyelids as Severus swallowed the last of the water himself. "Hold me..."

As dawn approached a dark figure entered the hotel room. Footsteps on hardboard pounding like fire, burning like the pain in his skull, bleeding like the dribble of crimson that rolled down his cheek to his chin. Harry Potter would enter the room, wand at the ready, to behold a sight that would haunt him until the end of his days. Two gnarled corpses, a tangle of limbs, curled together in a desperate embrace on a bed of satin and rose petals and surrounded by the dying light of honey scented candles.

He hadn't killed them with his magic. He had killed them with his malice.