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It was over.
Voldemort was dead.
As cheers and cries of victory erupted from the crowd, Harry grinned.
Finally he could have a normal existence, where madmen didn’t try to kill him everyday.
Finally he could have the peaceful life with his boyfriend that he so desperately desired.
As he walked away from the pile of ash that had once been Voldemort, he was approached by countless people, who were congratulating him, thanking him for what he had done.
He smiled politely, but was distracted. Right now he was looking for his blond Slytherin. He was, after all, entitled to a victory kiss.
As he entered the Great Hall, he began feeling quite anxious.
Where was his boyfriend? Why hadn’t he come to find him?
As his anxiety grew he frantically began searching around the castle, calling Draco’s name over and over again, getting more desperate by the second.
His heart jumped in his chest when he saw it.
A pale blond Slytherin was laying on the floor.
Even from this distance Harry could immediately tell that student was gone: the body was completely unmoving and a pool of dark scarlet blood surrounded it.
‘No’ he thought as he ran over to the figure.
He choked on a sob when he instantly recognized Draco’s hair and his signet ring.
“No, please no” he said as he crouched down, not caring that he got blood on him.
As he cradled Draco in his arms he looked at his face. His beautiful grey eyes that once had been so expressive and full of life were staring up at the ceiling, dull and cloudy.
His perfect pale face was marked by a cut just by his cheekbone and crimson blood was still pouring down from the side.
Tears began to fall as he struggled to come to terms with what had happened.
It couldn’t be. Draco could absolutely not be dead! They were both so young and their time together had only just began and he couldn’t imagine a world without his sassy blond in it.
He cried as he clutched at the Slytherin robes, shaking his head frantically.
Draco could not be dead. He hadn’t survived all these years, going against his parents’ believes, fighting for the side of the Light only to die on the last day.
He suddenly realized something.
Draco would never know Voldemort was dead. There were no windows around and he was quite far away from where the final battle had taken place.
‘Oh god’ he thought as he suddenly felt like he had to retch violently.
Draco had died all alone, scared and helpless.
Broken sobs tore out of him as he hugged Draco’s body even tighter.
“We won” he cried out to no one “We won, Love, we won” he sobbed over and over again.
“Draco... Draco, please. Please, please, please...” he begged desperately as he caressed his lover’s cheek: the usually pale skin now had the pallor that came with death only.
He would never see that bright smile again. He would never see those grey eyes light up in mirth, that mouth smirk at him, that melodic voice call him.
He could feel the rigid body beginning to become cold as the blood completely drained out of it.
He leaned down and gently kissed his boyfriend, not caring about the dust and tears and blood. He kissed him one last time, wanting to remember the feeling of his beloved’s lips against his.
The one person that mattered to him the most was gone.
In that moment, Harry knew he had lost.
Even if Voldemort was dead.
He had lost.