Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I only borrow them from time to time.
Warning character death and implied M/M and M/M/M relationships.
He stood, head bowed before the grave. The small elegant headstone simply held a name and dates.
He stood and remembered.
No one had understood the rage or grief he had displayed at the others death. He had to fight for the small headstone. They had wanted a hero that was unacceptable. His actions in standing firm had finally driven the last lingering friends from his side.
It had all started so very innocently. A look. A lingering touch. A hug that held just a second too long. The first kiss, hesitant though it was, both had known there was no looking back. The conversations long into the nights. Exhaustion dogged their every waking moment. Others attributed it to planning the final battle. That was but a small part, for they never spoke of the death and destruction that was in the near future.
They spoke of broken childhoods, betrayal by their mentor and friends, of the dreams that each held for their futures, together and apart. One was astonished at the brilliance kept so carefully hidden, the other amazed at the breadth of knowledge that one person could hold.
They had been lovers for the better part of two years. Their couplings had been infrequent, they had started before the youngest was out of school, and they had remained so throughout the relationship. It was never just sex. It was always lovemaking; slow, tender, aching, an act of connecting two souls. There were the few occasions they had escaped to spend long weekends, exploring and memorizing every inch of their partner.
The man shook his head, tears silently trailed down his face. The final time they had touched was moments before his world had shattered. The battle had come to them. They had dressed and silently walked to meet their destiny. Looking out over the green grass of the field in which he stood, it was difficult to imagine the horrors that day had wrought. Friends and foe had thrown every curse known, in an effort to end several decades of war. His focus was to keep pushing forward through the masses to the heart of the opposition. Finally he had made it; around him people were injured and dieing. His focus, that of his partner and two others was the Dark Lord.
Voldemort had laughed at them. They were a most unlikely foursome. Yet they held one common goal: freedom. Freedom from pain, humiliation and degradation. Together they would insure the freedom of an entire world. Working in concert they had pressed their attack, allowing no respite to their opponent. The battle had raged nearly an hour when at last they were successful. They had destroyed not only body and soul but the very essence of the Dark Lord ensuring that this time there would be no possibility of resurrection.
Looking around their eyes had met and held. Each relieved that the other was relatively unharmed. In that instance a flash of light hit and obliterated any feeling of triumph. A piece of his soul died on the field as his partners body crumpled and lie still. Later they told him that in the next moment he had released a surge of magic that destroyed every single one of the opposition before collapsing. The two who had assisted in taking out the Dark Lord stood vigil as he was transported to the infirmary. He lay unconscious for nearly a week, having entirely depleted his magic.
He woke to find the two by his side. It mattered not what he said or did they simply remained. They told him of the last moments and of the plans that had been made. He climbed shaky and white faced from the bed to attend the details of his partner's last rest. No one understood his desire to oversee the minute details nor did they comprehend the desire to preserve even in death the dignity of one who had publicly mocked and belittled him. The Ministry had wanted to erect a large monument detailing his partners' role in the war and final battle. They had not been pleased when he had denied them that, finally they had backed off when threatened.
He had only given one interview and had refused to speak of his fallen partner. His constant companions had refused to give any public statement and had only attended the few functions that he had. They had learned of his relationship as he lay in the infirmary. In a rare moment of sentimentality his partner had left a journal detailing their relationship. The two had been tasked with clearing his things out of the castle and had found it. The journal had been left open on their bed; a marker in it had opened to a page with two words. My Heart. The two had read the details of their life together and swore that no other would ever learn of it from them. The three went into seclusion following the funereal. Today was the first time any of them had been back.
He lay his wand on top of the headstone and spoke a few words. The wand sank into the stone as the words My Heart appeared below the name. His voice broke as he said a final goodbye.
My heart my love you will always hold a special piece of me as I do you. I know you would rail at my display of weakness in coming here. I needed to share with you what our love has brought. We will have a beautiful child in short time. He will enjoy the childhood neither of us were able to. He will know his fathers, the good and the bad.
Stepping backwards I am enfolded in the loving arms of my new life. The three of us make a striking picture, so we are told. Who would have thought Harry Potter would seek comfort in the arms of Lucius and Draco Malfoy. They had held me while I raged and cried at the injustice of losing you. They nursed me back to health when I tried to take my own life. They rejoiced with me as we learned of the tiny piece of my love that I carried.
They love me despite my faults. Together we will forge a new path, taking comfort and finding passion in the arms and hearts of each other. I have found a new family. I am trying to be happy. I will miss you every day of my life. Our child will know the love that we did not.
I love you.