Summary- Where Harry turned his back on his heart for his duty. Dumbledore was right- Love was the greatest weapon, one that the Dark Lord should never have fathomed but then it is hardly as obvious as the colored spell from a wand.

Love is a Tragedy.

Disclaimer- This doesn't belong to me, but J. K. Rowling and stuff. Ehh.. The emotions and words are all mine though, so there.

Story-

Harry Potter stood still in the middle of the battle ground, his wand hanging loosely by his side, he should have been the picture of victory, of a vibrant future the Wizarding world would look forward to now; not of stunned belief. The bindings that released him were not evident physically, even as his soul breathed freely now having lived up to the name the Wizarding World had hoisted upon him, having fulfilled the duty a wise headmaster had passed on to him, most of all however…

Harry wondered if he had seen it coming. If he had known that this would be how the day would conclude. Had he looked into his eyes, memorable shades that were inherited from his mother, and despite everything had he known the determination that would lead to this? Or, had the realization came to him before the killing curse, the force of betrayal perhaps faltering him on his course?

A lone tear escaped, the testament to the blow he had forced upon his own heart.

He had been honor bound to carry this task to completion after all, to avenge upon his own family, no matter how he had already dishonored their memories in his thoughts and heart he could not do the same in his actions.

He could only hope that he had seen the plaintive knowledge of their fate, surely he knew, surely he…

The sanctuary of their minds was where they were pulled again and again due to their unintentional bond, where somehow enmity was too tiresome to uphold with the frequent happenstance, where the reluctant respect for the other person, the only other person deemed equal, and the unexpectedness of an entertaining company proved irresistible. The only other person who could ever see their souls bare and not flinch away. When had the silence been broken by smiles and quiet murmurs, he wondered? When had their conversation become so very unforgettable for each other?

It should have been impossible, the peace between the two prophesized enemies. And yet, once the heated scorn descended into curious debate. Even as their fundamental beliefs varied, the Dark Lord was a scholar as well as a deeply experienced Wizard and Harry had an innate knowledge of Magic matched by few.

Forbidden, despicable and foolish. Even as Harry had felt his own defenses crumbling to the charm of this person, he could not be so strong to step away. The inevitable fall would have been better, had it not been for the fact that his companion was no less captured by the utterly passionate creature that was Harry. The storm engulfed them both, rationality just beyond their doors and yet within this solitude, they let themselves be consumed from within.

Turned to ashes, for the fire burning inside their core demanded its due and they could offer naught but themselves.

The warmth of their longing could not be contained however and it seeped into their voice, their expressions, into the very syllables that they would utter.

He had seen the averting of eyes and the soft smiles, had perhaps responded with a hint of bitterness.

Because once they stepped away from their mindscape, neither would look back. Harry did not stop trying to take down Voldemort's strongholds, disarming the death eater capacity gradually. The Dark Lord had not rescinded the capture and execution of the undesirable number one- Harry Potter.

He would spend days plotting carefully to avoid wards and interrogate death eaters, and in the nights he would sigh into the dreams where a patient Dark Lord would be waiting for him, with tea cups perched delicately on the table and a seat on the chaise beside the other.

Amidst, their riveting conversation the distance between them would lessen gradually, their fingers would brush casually and yet, neither of them would correct their stances. Neither of them would really step any further into the forbidden territory and yet, he could see the intense emotions swirling in that scarlet gaze.

A shade that carried the cold touch of death, whereas in contrast the warm green eyes were remnants of life it strove to save.

Surely he… surely he had known.. there was no other way this could have gone..

His steps were unsteady while he covered the distance in between them.

He wondered if that brilliant mind could look into his soul, the adoration and admiration for him.

He had not resisted when by his warm cheeks a cool finger would linger, when in between words a stray lock would be tucked behind his ear. He had not resisted at all. Neither had he expected anything.

Even as Harry almost felt smothered by the utter intensity with which the Dark Lord's magic would reach towards him as if to hold him captive, whenever he walked away leaving their sole retreat.

There had been nothing more to their mutual yearning, for his companion would not progress any further before Harry reciprocated. And even as his heart had already been lost to him, even as he betrayed which he must uphold by thoughts alone, his deeds would not reflect the same.

So Harry had merely averted his gaze when in the silence the unexpected want would grow heavier.

So his hands had not reached out for what his eyes surely desired so fervently.

Should he not have known by that reticence alone, how they must remain bound to themselves, to their faiths alone and no matter how their traitorous souls spoke of eternal companions, he could not very well give in…

But his companion had been ever so patient and Harry feared that he had been waiting till the end for Harry.

That even as the war between the two factions had peaked; the Dark Lord had waited for him.

Till the last breath that Harry had forced out of him with a cruel blow than the Avada Kedavra.

Because Harry had vowed to destroy that person who had annihilated his family, because had to have the vengeance for the lives of his parents and to keep their honor had come before even the needs of the Wizarding World. And Harry could perhaps forsake a fickle Wizarding World for a swayed heart, but he could not forgive the lost voices of the one that sacrificed their life for him.

It had been a responsibility he had determinedly undertaken once, never had he expected that the misery that would trail through his veins leaving behind the frozen touch of death-alike.

And now… now that Harry had fulfilled his duty, had been released from the obligation, surely there was nothing stopping him from doing what he had wanted to any more.

So the Savior of the Wizarding World stumbled forward to the fallen figure, disregarding the joyful crowd who had fallen mute, because they wouldn't understand why their savior would not lift the containing dome now that all danger had passed and all evil were eradicated.

Reverently, with trembling fingers he took him into his lap, cradling the face that seemed content in its eternal sleep. Heavy drops stained the pale face, evidence of a bittersweet reunion.

And he buried himself in the fading scent of the man he had so loved, despair lying fatefully, for there was no assuring hand to hold him in an embrace, started to unravel him from within.

Bound no longer within what had only slowly corroded his soul, he was free to walk his own path now, and Harry sighed upon the still chest, beautiful green eyes fluttering shut.

There was no other place for him to be.

.-l-.-.-_

Author's note- So I was in a mood after listening to Naruto tracks. Has anyone else felt their hearts breaking after listening to a really melancholic track? This story is an attempt at self-preservation really.

For all that I absolute adore Tomarry, sometimes I loathe how harry would abandon each and every belief , forgive any transgressions of Tom for love. It is not.. sometimes I don't understand, so yea, this is the outcome. Heh, don't hate me? And do give reviews, I love them!