Summary: The Dark Lord is gone, and so is Harry Potter. Or is he? How far will one man go to keep the dream alive? Warning: Very dark; possible squick; slight implied slash (D/H).
Finding the Body (Excerpt Only)
By: Practical Magic
I sometimes think that never blows so red
The rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
That every hyacinth the garden wears
Dropt in its lap from some once lovely head.
-- The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayan
"Ennervate."
Again, with more force. Again. Again. But the spare, thin frame still lay unmoving beneath Draco's unsteady wand. No sign of life.
Ennervateennervatepleasejustwakeupennervateennervateyoustupidbloodytwatennervateuselessennervateennervate!
"ENNERVATE!"
Defeated, Draco sat back on his feet, wanting nothing more at that momement than to curl up and die. Damn him. Damn him for leaving me to this. Wearily, he scrubbed a bloody hand through the pale, downy stubble on his chin. Soot and flecks of grey ash drifted down to crown Draco's slim shoulders; his white-blonde hair. He wasn't crying. Wasn't. It was only the smoke, smarting in his eyes.
Harry's eyes were green. But empty. So empty. Draco couldn't bear to see the once mobile face so... lifeless. Gently, as gently as he'd ever done anything in his short, violent life, Draco Malfoy reached out and closed The Boy Who Lived's eyes for the final time. Choked back a sob.
"Potter, you--"
"-- Have finally served your purpose." A hand clamped down upon Draco's shoulder, hard. Wrenching free, Draco twisted and scrambled backwards, tripping over Harry -- Just say it, Harry's fucking corpse! -- only to look into the eyes of the person he least wished to see, up to and including the Dark Lord.
Lucius Malfoy towered over his son, cold eyes boring into his progeny's even as a satisfied, predatory smile graced his features.
Draco swallowed down the bile that had risen to his throat. Fingers clenched spasmodically on the smooth, hard lines of his wand.
"F-father."
TBC
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Thank Yous:
Shout outs to Memento Mori, slightlights, Relle, spretzler, BlackIris3 (you're enraptured? *_*), lizzythekitten, shing (who got me thinking along the lines of a sequel), anne phoenix, rave, Tabbycat (Like a muggle, I suppose I was going under the assumption that hair would work even after death-- it is after all, dead protein. And doesn't ones' hair and fingernails continue to grow even after death?), and Lady Foxfire for the lovely reviews and encouragement. Extra special thanks to Savidana for the Uber-Review (Dynamite! What a compliment!). Thanks also to Kearie, Raven, Wolf of Solitude, Serpentine Malfoy, Meghan, and Morgan over at the Fiction Alley Park Cookie Jar. And of course, squishies to Ger and Moonsong (and Ly too!), for reviewing this because they love me.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated characters/concepts belong to J.K. Rowling and others. Passages from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayan translated by Edward FitzGerald. I make no claim to them. Only the plot (twisted though it is) and syntax are mine.