He smiles brokenly even as his eyes water. A chill runs down his spine and he knows he needs to leave, he doesn't have long left to wait. The magic that his only blood once tried to beat out of him, the magic that let him save the wizarding world at the cost of himself is turning against him. His magic will be the thing to kill him, not his enemies, not his reckless Gryffindor behavior, not his saving people thing. A tear slips from the corner of his emerald eyes, eyes that on good days seemed to glow like a killing curse, eyes that are darkening by the second to a dull and muddy parody of green. "For what it's worth" he whispers because he feels if he speaks any louder his voice will betray that he is dying in more ways than one "I will always love you" he blinks and the tears that were gathering at the edge of his eyes slide down his face, a constant stream "E- even if you don't believe in forever, I-, I believed in forever with you" despite his efforts to keep his voice steady it wavers with the weight of emotion. No longer caring about keeping magic a closely guarded secret he pops away. He crashes to the ground as he lands, he's not sure where he is, he's too numb to care. Soulmates he thinks bitterly what a way to die and he knows, at that moment, that this will be his final death, even as the master of death, supposedly immortal, his magic will just destroy him over and over again if he revives. His black hair sways in the chill wind, he takes no notice, his body is already numb to physical feeling.
He should have known from the start it was too good to be true, the instantaneous attraction between them the moment they met, but Harry didn't let that deter him. After several "one-night-stands" they were just lovers, and then partners. Life was good, life was too good. Maybe Harry should have known it was never going to last, but after six months of bliss and how the pair of them just seemed right, Harry asked Hermione about the concept of soulmates. They fit all known description of the phenomenon, and so Harry had filed the necessary forms and on their one-year anniversary of being more than a one-night-stand Harry started talking about the magical world, Harry was so excited to share this other world with his soulmate, and now he'd die knowing that it was too good to be true. He sighed and closed his eyes, everything hurt, he couldn't think of a worse hurt. His soulmate, his love, his world, his everything. Harry felt like a small child again, the freak in the cupboard, maybe that's why his soulmate was disgusted with him, maybe on some level his soulmate knew Harry was just a broken freak, he'd always be a broken freak, first the neglect, then a war, now his soulmate didn't want him anymore. A bitter loneliness fill harry's chest, his soulmate rejected him and now his magic would kill him for not being good enough. He wanted to laugh, love saved him only to kill him, what twisted sense of fate. He could feel his magic destroying its self, his heart slowing. He pondered what if's only for a second, what if he hadn't started the discussion with "We're soulmates" he wanted to laugh at his own stupidity but he couldn't feel his body anymore, just the bitter loneliness. He pictured his soulmates face, wanting to recall it one last time before he slipped into Death's waiting arms, strong prominent cheekbones, dark hair kept at a respectable length, a soft set of lips turned up in a cocky half-smile surrounded by short stubble. He couldn't picture his lover's eyes, it hurt too much, he couldn't recall them filled with love and light, only disgust. A man who knew nothing of the wizarding world, but met gods and acted like it was an everyday occurrence couldn't believe that soulmates could be real and as Harry's consciousness faded he thought what wonderful irony.