To Our Eternity
by BEWD Sorcerer
Dis Claim ... er... If I were J. K. Rowling, then I wouldn't be here with my trusty shot-gun making sure that no other plotbunnies sneak up on me and I sure as hell wouldn't be posting my work on I'd be rolling in dough, but not to be baked. If you laughed at that then you seriously need some sleep or some meds... or both. Go for both. I need sleep.
Hogwarts stands shakily, looming darkly over the battlefield. The dead lay everywhere from both sides. There were Death Eaters with their creepy white masks and there were the students of Hogwarts ranging from the tiny First Years to the educated Seventh Years and even the odd teacher.
All of them dead. Pale faces and blue lips and drying blood, a dark reddish brown staining everything from black robes to the pale faces, dead faces. A few were recognizable through the gore and unnatural twists of limbs.
The Malfoys all in a heap, blood nearly hiding the trademark white blond hair and silvery eyes gone grey. They didn't shine anymore.
Not too far off lay Ronald Weasley clutching his girlfriend, Hermione Granger, together even in death. Both had suffered the Cruciatus Curse extensively before being gifted with green light that let it all end.
The Creevey brothers lay sprawled together, still clutching broken wands and cameras. They had been taunted, unable to protect themselves, most grievously. Bellatrix Lestrange's work at her best.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had died fighting back-to-back, lovers supporting each other to the bitter end.
Molly Weasley had wept as she was forced to watch her family tortured and raped before they were murdered. Lucius Malfoy had taken particular delight in watching her horrified expression as he forcefully took her only daughter. Fred and George had been ripped limb from limb by an ecstatic Antonin Dolohov. Bill had been choked to death by Goyle Sr. Charlie was burned to death; McNair probably had been getting off on his screams. Percy had been killed on an earlier attack on the Ministry, as had Arthur, who had gone down protecting Percy even after all that had happened.
Kingsley had taken out a huge chunk of the Death Eaters with Tonks and Moody as his back-up, but they had been too late to save any of the Weasleys. Voldemort had killed them when they had been momentarily distracted by Molly's screams.
The list goes on.
The last two living people stand on a bare patch of blood-slicked grass, staring intently into each others eyes.
"They're all dead." One nods.
"Do you regret it?" A frown mars the other's face.
"No, they were so disgusted when they found out; if it hadn't been for Dumbledore telling them that they needed me to kill you, they would have killed me then and there. Even after all we've been through together they would abandon me at the drop of a hat. It's not like I had admitted to joining the Dark Order or torturing and killing Hermione's parents, which I didn't; you know that, but no matter what I said...They blamed me in the end, blamed me for their weakness." One walks over to the other.
"Their loss, our gain. They no longer stand between us, the fools." Another silence descends, leaving the one's words hanging in the air. The other shifts slightly.
"I like what you did to the old coot." They stare at the corpse of Hogwarts' ex-Headmaster, trussed up like a turkey with his scull hollowed out in a morbid imitation of a candy jar (complete with sherbet lemons filling it) and 'I suffered for you; you suffer for me' carved into his chest.
"I'm glad." The one takes that last step, embracing the other. "No one else here, love. Care to join me for a little dance before we leave?" The other nods, allowing the one to take his hand and his hip and lead him around in an indiscernible pattern around the corpses on the blood-soaked ground. "So beautiful, my little one, my little serpentine kitten." The other blushes and mock-glares.
"You'll be calling me that for the rest of forever, won't you?" The one grins, showing his wild happiness.
"Of course! Really, even I knew better than question an ancient object that could see everything in my head or I'd probably have ended up in Ravenclaw!" They slowed to a stop, just smiling softly at each other.
"And then this probably wouldn't have happened-"
"And I would have been an old geezer, unfit for one as young and beautiful as yourself-"
"Had we even met, we probably wouldn't have even taken a second look and then where would we be?"
"Separate and alone, but do you really attribute our love to circumstance?"
"Never! But have you ever wondered what would have happened if something had been different?"
"Such as?"
"What if we had been born in the same year? What if I got dumped in the same orphanage as you? What do you suppose would have happened?"
"I don't know, but wouldn't that be odd? What if I hadn't tried to kill you? What if I had taken you and raised you? What would have happened then?"
"I would probably be angsting over how fucking hot my father is." The one chuckles, hugging the other to him.
"And I would be arguing with myself, trying to keep my hands to myself and off my beautiful Harry, my delicate boy." Harry, for it is Harry, smiles, tugging on the front of the taller's robes.
"Get down here and kiss me, you old fart." Said old fart obliges happily and they continue on in their own little happy world even though they're stepping over bodies of their once faithful friends (or servants, depending on who exactly it was doing the stepping) carelessly.
"Such beautiful carnage. I wonder how long it will take those living to realizes that there was a battle here and then to clean it up." Harry pulls his lover along, closer to the edge of the wards because no matter how ripped and damaged they are, it doesn't stop them from pulling one last feat of strength to knock down any would-be Apparitions.
"Doesn't mean a thing to us, Tom, we're out of here." They have finally reached the boundary of the wards. Tom sighs.
"Ahhhh... how I'll miss the scent of blood in the air after a good battle." He glances down into amused green eyes. "But this scent could never compare to the scent of us after I've fucked you raw."
"Blood and sex - "
" - my favorite!" They kiss each other once again deeply before one last glance over the battlefield and the broken shape of Hogwarts, finally fallen.
"Tom, are you ready?" Another kiss is shared, though shorter than the one just before.
"For eternity with you? I eagerly await the first morning in the never-ending list of mornings to waking up with you in my arms, little one." Harry blushes as he is swept off his feet by the most feared Dark Lord Voldemort. "To our eternity, love."
"To our eternity."
AN: One of those weird little humping plotbunnies got a hold of me and I had to write this or else I'd have even more plotbunnies to deal with. That's what happened to spawn all my other fics. So here is a rather short one-shot for a version of what happened after the Final Battle. One that I haven't seen anywhere.
About the 'Apparitions' comment: would you call them Apparators? It sounds funny. Mrs. Rowling probably got the term Apparate from Apparitions, so... they're Apparitions. Whooooooooo! Ghostly! XP