AN: This is another exercise for my creative writing class that I turned into a fanfic. I decided to do something a little different to go along with what I've been reading lately, hence: Harry/Voldemort. It's actually a surprisingly good pairing, almost as good as Harry/Tom.
Warning: character death by violence; SLASH (in the form of a mildly odd pairing; don't like, don't read)
Blood in Snow
I remember seeing pure white flakes floating down through the sky outside my window in Gryffindor tower, falling on a dark figure on the ground, so far from the window his features were indiscernible. But I knew who it was. We had been secretly writing each other for a year now, and I knew he had finally come for me. I couldn't have been more excited. I grabbed those few possessions I had that I couldn't bare to leave and raced out of the tower to go meet him. I never even said goodbye to my friends.
I remember tasting heaven; a heaven so exquisite, it had to have come from hell itself. I hardly minded when he greeted me with such a kiss. He didn't look the same as I remembered; or rather, how I'd last seen him, because I remembered seeing him this way once before. He was incredibly handsome, and his dark hair and eyes and cloak contrasted perfectly with the white of his skin and the snow all around us. And he tasted like heaven dipped in sin.
I remember feeling my heart race when he suddenly slumped against me, his body weighing me down. I couldn't understand it at first, but as I helped him to the ground I saw the shocked look on his face and the trail of blood running from his mouth, and I knew something had gone drastically wrong. As soon as his back touched the snow, the flakes were soaked red with blood. I screamed out of shock more than terror; this wasn't supposed to happen; no one should have been able to kill him but me.
I remember smelling blood, and snow, and something flowery. I looked around in a confused panic and spotted Ginny standing nearby, looking both furious and horrified. Somehow, Gryffindor's sword hung limp in her hand, the blade dropping in blood. I turned back to him to try to quench the flow of blood, but it merely drenched my hands. We were both terrified, but he looked it and seemed even more his old self.
I remember hearing his voice, returned to its sultry tones like his appearance, begging me to help him, to not let him die. I heard my voice telling him everything would be fine, though I knew he was going to leave me. He must have known it too, in those last moments, because I suddenly felt cool, blood-slicked fingers touch my cheek so gently I almost didn't realize they were his.
I remember seeing him smile, a smile so beautiful and sad I nearly cried. I remember tasting salty tears as I did cry without really realizing I was. I remember feeling my heart break with that smile, knowing it would be the last one I'd ever see on his face. I remember smelling that flowery scent as Ginny moved closer, shouting something at me that I couldn't seem to hear, and the smell of blood again, and a scent that was uniquely his. I remember hearing his voice one last time as he murmured the five words I'd always wanted to hear.
"I love you, Harry. Forever."
And Lord Voldemort was dead, and I was utterly defeated.