The waning moon shone weakly on Hogwarts. Every now and then, a rumble would shake the castle as it slowly crumbled with each destructive spell. As he ran through crumbling corridors, he shot jinxes, hexes, curses, and even the unforgivable ones at black robes. He fought with a borrowed wand, one made of vinewood. He had kept after that day (or was it night?). It didn't understand him like his beloved hawthorn, yet it understood him well enough. It knew that it had to serve him in order to be reunited with its mistress. His crowning glory, which he once took pride in, was now a more like a crowning shame. He could trade his silvery gold locks for another color, but that would admit defeat. A black robe stood in front him. Eyes glinted evilly, and he imagined a twisted sneer behind the silver mask. Traitor, it hissed (he couldn't tell the black robe's gender thanks to a voice changer in the mask). Mudlover. Miserable creature of the dust.
He smiled coldly. He had been in hiding for months, but he was better than ever was. Freedom and love would do that to a person. His grin broadened slightly, the edges sharp. Someone with wild brown curls hurried silently towards him. He knew who it was. She ducked a curse as she shot one towards the Death Eater in front of him. He shot one towards his current opponent, and one chasing her.
When she looked up, he tossed her the vinewood as she tossed him a hawthorn. The flowers in his life quickly became thorns with the Dark Lord came. Maybe she'll help him turn them back to flowers. His eyes, windows to his soul, were guarded. They had to be lest someone discover the fire of hope she gave him. He chuckled darkly to himself as he and the girl he had always admired (and since third year) loved turned to face the next wave of death. Those robes and masks were so dramatic, flapping in the wind and glinting in the light. They were incredible fools to think they were kings of their world. But when he looked her, the world the blackness stood for faded, and all he saw was a shining hope for a new and better world.
For years, he had made the same mistakes, calling her names and doing worse each year. He had burned so many bridges, so many possibilities. Yet the one thing he did, was enough for her. He turned his back on his upbringing, heritage, and what was supposed to be his legacy. And he made his own path. Some things he kept, for some traditions and beliefs were worth keeping. Now, she laughed with him at his snobby ways, but delighted in his impeccable manners. But she loved him even more when they took sanctuary under white sheets. She did not trust him as a child, but now she trusted him with their child. She trusted him as much and more than she trusted the boy-who-lived.
Some nights, she would dream. Running through dark forests. Screams. Smoke. Red eyes. Suffocating darkness overwhelming her. But then she would open her eyes and see two stars guiding her home. Molten silver blue, shifting with concern and love.
No matter what he and the newspapers would say, she loved everything about him. He went with her on walks, especially when she needed to escape the gloom in her mind. Sometimes, she walked faster than he did, and she would have to watch and wait for him to catch up. The sunlight on his hair, surrounding him in a hazy daydream glow. He'd always walk with his head down, hands in his pockets, until he reached her. Then he'd lift his head and grin broadly. Then he'd pull out his shrunken broom, unshrink it, and mount it. She'd put up a show of protest, fingering the charm of a dragon curved around a "D" on her neck. Eventually she'd concede and sit in front of him with his arms around her. She loved and trusted him. After disillusioning themselves, they'd streak through the sky with jet streams trailing behind them. In the skies, they were above the gossip and dirt of the world. It was just the two of them.
It was a November when she approached him. Neither of them remembered which year, but it was one of their dark ones. He scoffed at her promises of salvation by her hand or that of an ally.
"You don't need to save me," he said. "You can't save everybody, even if that's what your bleeding Gryffindor heart wants." Silence ensued, but then he added, "But, would you run away with me?"
"I can't just leave," she huffed with exasperation. "There's so much to do, and no one will do it if I don't start."
"I meant we could do it together," he corrected her. "Of course, you'll have to use my ways in order for you plans to work. As brave as you Gryffindors are, sometimes your plans are bloody obvious."
She stared at him, startled. A few moments of tense quiet reigned over the two until she said, "Yes."
It was then that he gave her his first jewelry gift. A dragon wrapped around a "D." He told her, "Yes, I know it seems a bit egotistical. But if I don't make it, then you'd have something special to remember me by."
Friends either supported them like friends should, but others became enemies. Some of their former enemies actually became their friends. Names followed them, but they didn't care. They were the power couple ushering a new age. They were greatest shame of wizarding Britain. In interviews, they were asked about what they think about the many titles given to them. They laughed at the paradox and shrugged their shoulders, acting completely nonchalant about it. Then they'd say together, "Call it what you want."
Author's note: I absolutely love Taylor Swift's "Call It What You Want." And this one shot has a lot of references to it. I wanted to give another pairing of a totally different fandom a story following this song, but it didn't quite fit as well as it does for Dramione.