Harry Potter, a childlike young man in his best years, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the cerulean water with his pure olive globes. His inky hair danced lightly in the ocean breeze, tickling against one cheek as he smiled to himself with anticipation, resting his cheek against one hand as he adjusted his atramentaceous glasses.

He wore a rose shirt with sleeves that ran down to his wrists and a pair of atramentaceous jeans that showed off the shape of his body. His mane flowed in a inky torrent past his shoulders, complementing his innocent fair visage. A prominent scar stood out on his fair skin. Furry ears flicked at the top of his head, and he twitched his ebon tail.

His thoughts wandered to his days in Voldemort's company. It started on that day, when he had found herself facing mortal danger, desperately in need of a savior. He came in the form of Voldemort, who cut down what danger he could and swept him away from the rest. From then on, they were inseparable. They shared every part of their life with each other. That was how it was to this very day.

His ears pricked at the sound of familiar footsteps. He twitched his tail happily and looked up before Voldemort even spoke a word. "Harry Potter," he said simply with an admiring look-over and a beaming grin. His light brown orbs complimented his opaline hair, tied back from his face, belying his audacious heart. He was dressed in refined garb befitting his station. He had a toned but slender body covered with bronze skin. A prominent scar stood out on his brunet skin. A symbol marked his skin. As Harry Potter drew nearer, he caught a note of Voldemort's familiar scent of lingering iron and steel. He smiled to himself. It always reminded him of the time they shared.

"Oh, Tom! You came!" Harry Potter said breathlessly, reaching out to take him into an embrace. Color rose to Voldemort's face as he returned his hug with awkward enthusiasm. With that, they began to walk along the beach.

The air was salty and warm, the sun sparkling bright and the waves foam-crested and ocean-colored, and yet Harry Potter could not let himself be happy. He wanted to reach for Voldemort's steady hand, always a comfort, but it was his sadness - who was he to burden Voldemort with that? Although he tried to stop them, his lips trembled, gemstone orbs filling with unshed tears.

But he couldn't hide from Voldemort. He took Harry Potter by the hand and drew him toward himself, and when he looked up into his face he had a smile warmer than the sun.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You look so sad!"

He tried to smile, to show him that he was happy there, with him, but his blush-colored lips would not obey him.

"I'm sorry," he lamented softly, ducking his head. Voldemort's fingers, calloused but gentle, tipped his chin up.

"Don't be!" he ejected worriedly, warm spheres searching out Harry Potter's own. "I don't ever want you to be sad! I know, I'll tell you a joke! A dragon rider, a mage, and a bard all walk into this bar..."

"Please," Harry Potter breathed. He shook his head violently, sending his hair whipping back in forth in the sea breeze. "No jokes. I can't take it. You're so kind to me and so good and I ... and I..." He turned away as the tears came anew, spilling like pearls over his cheeks. Voldemort was quiet for a moment. His arms circled around him and Harry Potter let himself lean back against his strong, lean chest. He always felt safest when he was with Voldemort.

"I don't want there to be anything between us," Voldemort said softly. "I love you, Harry Potter."

"Oh, Tom," he sighed adoringly. Harry Potter turned in his arms and caught Voldemort's face between his delicate hands. For a long moment, all they did was gaze into each other's eyes, each filled to the brim with emotions unspoken, deeper than the ocean all around them.

After a few moments, they found themselves walking down the beach again. Something rose to the front of Harry Potter's mind - something he had been trying to beat back all this time. It was so special to him to be with Voldemort, and he didn't want to pass that time making them both feel horrible. But it just wouldn't leave him alone.

With concern, Voldemort turned his unique crystals toward Harry Potter. "Harry Potter? What's wrong?"

"Voldemort... it's..."

And at that moment everything came together, all of the magic and the hurt that had been building that day, and he locked his globes with his and whispered, "You can tell me."

It was like a floodgate burst, or some barrier of fear had been struck down. Harry Potter shook his head and everything came out at once. "It's... it's my mother. Sometimes I can't believe she's gone. It's not just that she's dead, but when it happened, it... changed so much. Sometimes I wonder about what it'd be like if it all went back... I don't even know how I would feel about that. It just... it hurts, Voldemort, thinking about it. It just hurts."

Voldemort listened silently and solemnly. At last, when all the words had left Harry Potter and he was at a loss for words, Voldemort reached out to him and took a deep breath to whisper back, "Harry Potter... I know it's not the same, but, my father... he died. I think I can imagine how that... your mother's death... how that is." Voldemort laid his hands upon Harry Potter's shoulders. "How... hollow... things feel." Harry Potter's eyes began to burn, and he abruptly pulled Voldemort into a fierce embrace. Voldemort's depths widened at first, but then he too felt overwhelmed by emotion and succumbed to the warmth of Harry Potter's touch.

"You," Harry Potter whispered, his breath hot on Voldemort's ear. "As long as you're here, I'll be all right." They held each other as tears trickled down cheeks and dripped onto the shifting sands to be carried away into the sea. With time and soothing embraces, their pain dissipated into a mist swept out by the ocean breeze and into the setting sun.

They basked in each other's quiet companionship for a few moments.

"Look... it's the sunset."

Harry Potter lifted his head at Voldemort's words to behold the dying sun's carrot-colored radiance. "How beautiful."

After a moment of silence, Voldemort asked, "Do you think we'll be together forever?"

"I think we'll be forever," Harry Potter murmured in response.

Voldemort kissed his head. "Then as long as you and I will it to be, it will be. Even forever."

Harry Potter sighed with contentment and brought Voldemort closer. He gazed at the beautiful blonde rays of the falling sun, thinking about everything that had transpired on this day and all that would pass between them.

"I love you, Voldemort."

"I love you too, Harry Potter."

Their lips met, and atramentaceous strands met heterochromatic ones, aflame in the dying light. The sand was their witness and the rumbling ocean their approving audience, and Voldemort, his eternally faithful lover. Harry Potter thought to himself that nothing could be more perfect in the world.

... Thus concludes our tale.

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