Rain falls in Paris

WARNING: Tom/Harry slash.

DISCLAIMER: If I owned them, I wouldn't be sharing them. Don't sue.

They were scouring England after them. Dumbledore and Malfoy had even shaken hands. The Light Side was looking for their Saviour, the Dark Side for their leader. Deep down, both sides knew they'll never find them, alive anyway. They knew everything was over.

In some twisted way, they had brought peace to the wizarding world. The WWIII won't happen.

Harry and Tom really thought they deserved a medal. Of course, Tom HAD initiated it, but really, there can't be peace without war.

Harry and Tom, therefore, were happy.

They were in hiding, but Paris was really quite the fashionable city to hide in.

Tom liked its haughty coldness.

Harry liked its refined melancholy.

Their flat was small but new. From the brown sofa where they were curled up together they watched the rain falling on the roofs of Paris. Its melody was soothing their scarred souls, binding them together, repairing the damages of life.

Harry let a tear run down his cheek and smiled sadly. Tom closed his eyes and drew Harry closer to him.

In a whisper, the red-eyed wizard softly said:

"In every dream you make, your downfall awaits."

The End

A/N: Reviews are the food my soul seeks. Feed me and I'll bless you.