Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, that would be J.K. Rowling

A/N: As I write the next chapter of O.S.A.B. my mind goes back to a story I wrote a few months prior but never published, it's still a W.I.P. but I thought my readers may take delight in reading of a very different Harry then the one they are used to. This story may be updated at odd times since my focus at the moment is O.S.A.B. but i still hope you all will enjoy this story just as much.

Harry sang softly to himself as he walked around the bodies of the fallen, their blood soaking through his battle robes as he walked onwards. The air was thick with smoke, fire burned away at the crumbling castle and the smell of burnt flesh hung in the air, seeming to taint all.

He stumbled slightly, and quickly caught himself. Looking down, he saw the bloodied faces of Draco and Blaise. Their hands were intertwined, as if to show that not even death could separate the two. Their robes were covered in filth and blood, yet Harry could not tell if the blood was theirs or not. He smiled and crouched down, running a small bloodied hand across their faces, closing their glassy eyes. He frowned and looked at his hands, he had tainted them; just now. Tainted them with his blood.

He shook his head and stared at the two; if he tried hard enough, he could almost imagine them to still be alive; could almost imagine them smiling at him and teasing him for his foolishness once more. Yet he know that was not the case. He would never hear their voices again. They looked so peaceful in death however, no more pain to be had, no more horror to be seen, they simply laid upon the barren ground, seeming to the world as being slumbering angels.

Harry stood up and kept walking through the battlefield. He saw Hermione's mutilated corpse; Fenrir had found her during the battle and had taken a sick enjoyment of playing with her before ripping her apart; even now Harry could still hear her screams as Fenrir laughed manically, his face covered in her blood, her struggles becoming weaker from blood loss. A bit away from her body laid Ron; his arms were reaching out to her, even in death; trying to protect his most beloved. Harry turned away from the scene, he had been too late by the time he reached them, while Ron had been able to take down Fenrir, a death eater had taken down Ron. The boy had never even known what had hit him, his eyes only looking at Hermione. He smiled sadly to himself; somehow, he didn't think Ron minded all that much; in the end.

He turned away and walked to where the air was most thick with the smell of burning flesh.

There he found an angel; a true saint in the middle of this hell. He smiled softly at the body that lay in the center of the flames; it wasn't burning yet, as if the flames refused to touch such innocence; even after the life in those courageous eyes had already passed. He mused to himself that perhaps magic itself was making sure the body stayed whole; untouched.

The boy had a peaceful smile on his face, his matted and bloodied brown hair lay splattered across his pale face. In his arms he reverently held their sacred treasure, the sword of Gryffindor. Harry smiled sadly as he stared at the boy who seemed to all the world slumbering in the center of the flame. He reached a hand out, careful not to burn himself. "You were so much more then I ever will be."

Once more he turned away from the scene of death. He paused slightly, every now and then, as he saw old loved ones, but he quickly moved forward, caught as he was in all this destruction and chaos.

Finally his feet stopped moving and he stared with childlike curiosity at the pale and prone body before him. A fallen angel; having fell to earth, yet now laid still before Harry, in submission to the young man. Black hair spread across the ground like a halo, long dark lashes covered closed eyes. Harry tilted his head, one could almost believe the one before him to be sleeping, if he tried hard enough, he could almost imagine those eyes fluttering open, to reveal ruby red orbs. Yet once more, Harry knew; as with the rest; these eyes would also remain closed; for one who fought so hard to live, now he would sleep for eternity. His body stilled as a small wind rustled the dark battle robes of the fallen angel.

Harry bent down and placed a kiss on the man's brow, surprised at how cold the skin felt against his lips. "Beautiful Tom… was this truly what you wanted, what you desired?"

He laid his head against the cold chest, where once a heart beat, bringing life to this body, now there was none, not a sound could be heard.

How quickly a life stops, even for one so powerful.

"I would have thought… that you would have wanted more…" he reached out a hand and played with the material of the mans robes. Silk, soft and light between his fingers.

His mind went back to a distant memory, of a young boy all alone. He hummed to himself. Did the man wear such things in order to forget? Forget who he once was?

"Was I a fool, as you are now?" he looked at the man and smiled. "I may be a fool, for I cared for you, till the very end, you were beloved by me."

He sighed and looked up, grey clouds filled the sky, it should have looked menacing, yet what Harry saw was something much different, small drops of rain fell softly on the dead. The sky opened up as thunder sounded across the barren field, as if the world itself was mourning, mourning for the loss of so much innocent lives, of so many needless deaths.

Perhaps it was.

Harry looked at the young man's face. "What did you want in the end? What could you have truly wanted?" he raised a hand and held the cold and pale face; "You'll never tell me will you? You always did like your secrets."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "What should I do now? Our world is gone, I can feel it, magic is dying, in too much pain and agony." Tears fell from behind closed lids. "There's so much pain, so much hurt."

Harry gasp and cried.

"What did you all want me to do? What could I have done?!" he shook his head. "Will I always be alone? Doomed to wander?" he smiled humorlessly to himself as he looked at the sky, taking delight at the cool rain falling against his face. "Will you all condemn me? As I have condemned you?"

Harry smiled. "I don't want such a fate." He shook his head and chuckled. "I guess I truly am selfish, as Severus always told me…"

He took out his holy and elder wand, both hummed softly in his hands. "I don't want such a cruel fate…" his voice cracked slightly as his body shook with sobs.

He closed his eyes and held his holy wand tightly, taking comfort from it's presence even as he raised the elder wand to his heart.

"I will join you all instead; there… you can all hurt me as much as you want." He smiled sadly. "I will take any punishment you all wish of me."

He looked at Tom, before looking at all the carnage once more. "It's all that's left… all that I can give you…"

He smiled as the rain seemed to wash everything away, everything seemed to be falling away.

Closing his eyes he smiled to himself before bowing his head.

"Avada Kedavra."

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this prologue and will continue to read this story as well. Also please leave reviews if you can, I must admit they do make me smile and bring quite a bit of happiness to me. I hope you all enjoyed the first taste of To Live, Love Everlasting and will stick by for more.

Till next time.