Author's Notes: A wee (very wee!) drabble written for Cybele, who's leaving the fandom. Post-T&T. Please Review
One Cannot Be Broken
I lie awake, basking in the soft moonlight that shone through the un-drawn curtains. I've always been something of a night owl, and after the post orgasmic doze that had flooded my system, I'm was now quite content to just lie in his bed and listen to Harry breathe. He's quite beautiful, you know. I think, on some level, I had always recognised that in him. Maybe that's why I hated him so much. I know I am not a handsome man - despite the many rumours that I'm a vampire, I do get to see my own reflection on occasion - and I don't think, in many senses of the word, that I could be described as a good man. I can only hope that this boy - this man, I should say - will be my redemption.
He turns slightly in his sleep, his arms sliding tighter about my waist. As I look down at him I can't help the smile that curls my lips.
He is so beautiful.
The scar that had marked him out as 'special' for eighteen years of his life is gone now, dispersed into the ethos with the man who created it. Without that mar, his skin is perfect. Black lashes fringing the join of his eyes contrast with the skin that seems to glow silver in the moonlight. His soft lips, that I now know are talented at more than speaking strange languages, are paler than perhaps they should be, and merge perfectly into that silvery skin.
I wonder if he is too cold.
It is only an excuse, of course, for me to hold him tighter. His head rests on my chest, and that untamable raven hair melts into my own.
We are joined. We are together. We are unity.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to his temple. He is not so cold against my lips, but I hold him tight to me anyway. Such tenderness has never been invoked in me before. All those years with Lucius, of us battling each other for the upper hand, and he always winning. Moments like this were very rare in the beginning, and nonexistent towards the end.
I hope these moments never end.
I think Albus would be proud if he could see us now. He always was a die-hard romantic, and I think a part of him had always intended for us to become closer. He noticed that Harry cared when he was younger, and in retrospection I think he may have encouraged that kindness in my direction. I damn and bless him for it. Perhaps, thinking that over, it is Albus who was my redemption and Harry is my reward in Paradise. If such a place exists. Which I doubt it does.
I love him.
It's a sickening and yet thrilling thought that such a small boy with no seemingly special qualities - other than once defeating the Dark Lord and saving the wizarding world - can make me feel so. I kiss his temple once again, that smile coming unbidden again. I watch his own lips curve, as though he knows it's me. Perhaps he dreams of me.
I slide down as carefully as I can until his head lies on my shoulder. I rest my own against his and my eyes flutter closed. My thoughts are peaceful as I feel myself slip into the dark comfort of sleep.
We are one, and one cannot be broken.