Title: Put your lights on
Author: Ania (or Vasquez1987)
Disclaimer: not mine, I'm sure you know that.
Rating: PG13 for general sadness
Author's notes: A quick job - I got the idea not even 24 hours ago, while listening to "Supernatural" by Carlos Santana, more precisely the song "Put your lights on".
Feedback would be nice


It is their ritual. Every night, as long as they are home, one can see a faint light appearing in one of the rooms.
Fool Muggles imagine that some dark rituals are done there, for the people who live in the house are rarely seen outside in full daylight, and if they do, they walk hand in hand, black cloaks billowing behind them entangled with fiery comments that they receive.
Satanists. No. Wizards.
Queers. No. Lovers.
Look, they're sitting on the bench, staring into space. Black hair obscuring their faces, illegible expressions covered by dusk. Shadows creeping around them, old leaves blown around. Wind. Chilling evenings covered with mist. They're trying to find peace.
No one is sure, no one dares to ask why.
People see, but can't do anything about it. The men enter the local church, stand in the middle of the aisle, each one saying his prayers, silently voicing his sins.

My mother and father died because of me.
I used to praise a villain and call him "Lord".

Their hands entwined, knuckles white, neither feels pain, just relief

I'm in love with a man.
I'm in love with a man.

The church is empty, it's too late for people to be wandering alone. There's no one to witness as the men kiss. Love, despair. Peace ?
I killed … many times.
I killed … countless times.
"Come, we need to go home". It's never said by the same man, but they both say it the same way.
The other just smiles and allows his partner to lead him out of the church, through the streets to reach their destination.

Later, they meet in the bedroom, the sinister chamber that curious neighbours speculate about. In reality it's quite simple A king-size four-poster bed in the middle, its head curtain covering the window, yet allowing the faint moonlight shine into the chamber. It has no cupboards or other furniture, just candlesticks on the two opposite walls, a photo or a word, or both beneath every single one of them. Each wall belongs to one man. The inscriptions are different but people who they refer to appear on both sides.
The men, clad only in their bathrobes come in and lock the room They stand there, their gaze on the walls, eyes moist even though seconds ago they were dry. Then they pull out a matchbox of their pocket and start to light their side of the room.

Mom... Dad... Cedric... Sirius... Malfoy... ... ... Tom Riddle
Lily... The Mutt... Draco... ... ... T.M. Riddle

A daily tribute to those who left, who aren't with them anymore, so their souls can find a way to heaven, a way to forgiveness, this little light at the end of the corridor. Even those who made mistakes in their lives deserve a second chance, a faith from someone, a hand that would help them, but… it's too late now.
Empty matchboxes go back to the pockets, bathrobes are discarded in the corners. The lovers embrace and lay under the covers, caressing the scarred skin of their partner, listening to the heartbeats, slowly falling asleep, the candlelight fading away.

Those who suffer from insomnia can hear a loud scream tearing through the night. It comes from that house so no one call the police, no one bothers to check if its habitants are ok. Insomniacs continue to stare at the ceilings. In the house, in the bedchamber a young man is trembling and sobbing, trying to curl up in a foetal position but the body of his mate hugging him, holding him tightly and rubbing his back, prevents it from happening. The candles burnt out by now, bright flames in the room, like stars in the sky after dawn, faded away. It's not dawn yet, though. Onyx eyes look into the green ones.
"It was just a dream." A nightmare more likely.
"It was … a flashback." My friends dissolving in the scarlet background.
"You're safe now, sleep."
But they don't. They stay awake trying to discourage the night-time monsters to invade their lives. Some time later, when the dawn breaks, Morpheus finally decide to pay them a visit. So they rest, clinging to each other for dear life.

Every day the candles are replaced only to be lit again in the evening.