The Last Battle

Summary: A sad one-shot of Harry and Draco as they face of against each other in the last battle. D/H Warning: Male/Male Angst, character death (dementors Kiss). Rating T to be safe.

(A/N: If you feel like I've violated the guidelines/rules, let me know which one/ones and I'll check the story. Also if you feel my rating is to low please tell me)

Warning: Male/Male situations. Not serious, but if you are homophobic or easily offended, stay clear!

Disclaimer: I don't own squat.

The Last Battle:

They were facing each other. Harry next to Dumbledore, and Draco next to Voldemort. Behind them on each side stood their armies.

The war had begun.

Harry took a few steps forward, so that he was right between the two sides. He reached out his hand to Draco, much like Draco had done that day on the train seven years ago.

A single tear slid down Draco's face, "Harry, you know I can't…"

Harry smiled sadly. "Yeah, I know." He let his hand fall to his side.

Draco came forward and pressed himself against Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and kissing him with a desperate ferocity. Harry pressed his left hand to Draco's chest, feeling the rippling muscles. His other hand went to Draco's hair pushing them even closer together.

They pulled away simultaneously, looking into the other's love filled, but sad eyes. Draco smiled down at his shorter lover, bringing his hand up to stroke Harry's soft cheek. Pulling away from each other, they turned their backs and walked to their respective sides, turning around to face the enemy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Most of the death-eaters died, the ones who didn't were being sensed out and receiving the Kiss from the dementors.

Harry walked over to the blond lying on the ground. He kneeled down beside his fallen lover.

"I love you, Harry." Draco whispered.

"I know you do, Draco, I know you do." Harry pressed a soft kiss to Draco's lips before standing up, walking away forever.

"Are you sure about your choice, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned sadly.

Harry turned to look at where the blond was lying off in the distance. A dementor was slowly moving towards the unmoving form.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

End