The Picture in His Pocket
After five long years, the war was over. Bleeding and finding it hard to breathe, Harry Potter crawled over to the equally near death body of his enemy: Draco Malfoy, the last Death Eater. They had been battling for days now, neither one wanting to lose, each fighting only to kill the other. Yet, throughout the whole ordeal, Draco had carefully shielded one place within his robes; Harry intended to know why before he died. Finally reaching the shaking form of the taller, pale haired, silver-eyed young man, Harry pushed aside the protective hand Draco held over his pocket.
"Geroff...Malfoy..." Potter hissed. "No reason...to hide...some...thing now..."
If Draco had been stronger, he would have put up more resistance, but his life was slipping away and he had one last request to make of the victorious Boy Who Lived. Pulling a well kept, old photograph out of his pocket, Draco glared at his killer, then coughed up the little blood he had left in his body.
"Damn you...Potty...You want...ed to know...now you...must see to...their safe...t...y..." Harry watched as the tiny bubbles in the blood staining Draco's lips popped under the pitiful force of his last breath. Weakly, Harry pried the picture out of the dead man's hand, and raised it to his eyes. The three people in the picture were laughing and smiling, the tall blonde man with his arm around the beautiful golden-eyed woman forcing the energetic four-year-old child in the picture to hold still. Harry gasped in shock, and then regretted the pain it caused in his chest.
"Mione...and Draco...? They...had a girl..." Harry closed his eyes -just for a moment, he told himself- never thinking that while his last thoughts tangled in his mind, a bitter, jealous Ron Weasley was choking the life out of the mother as he had the daughter.
Finis
After five long years, the war was over. Bleeding and finding it hard to breathe, Harry Potter crawled over to the equally near death body of his enemy: Draco Malfoy, the last Death Eater. They had been battling for days now, neither one wanting to lose, each fighting only to kill the other. Yet, throughout the whole ordeal, Draco had carefully shielded one place within his robes; Harry intended to know why before he died. Finally reaching the shaking form of the taller, pale haired, silver-eyed young man, Harry pushed aside the protective hand Draco held over his pocket.
"Geroff...Malfoy..." Potter hissed. "No reason...to hide...some...thing now..."
If Draco had been stronger, he would have put up more resistance, but his life was slipping away and he had one last request to make of the victorious Boy Who Lived. Pulling a well kept, old photograph out of his pocket, Draco glared at his killer, then coughed up the little blood he had left in his body.
"Damn you...Potty...You want...ed to know...now you...must see to...their safe...t...y..." Harry watched as the tiny bubbles in the blood staining Draco's lips popped under the pitiful force of his last breath. Weakly, Harry pried the picture out of the dead man's hand, and raised it to his eyes. The three people in the picture were laughing and smiling, the tall blonde man with his arm around the beautiful golden-eyed woman forcing the energetic four-year-old child in the picture to hold still. Harry gasped in shock, and then regretted the pain it caused in his chest.
"Mione...and Draco...? They...had a girl..." Harry closed his eyes -just for a moment, he told himself- never thinking that while his last thoughts tangled in his mind, a bitter, jealous Ron Weasley was choking the life out of the mother as he had the daughter.
Finis