A/N: The first paragraph popped into my head as I was getting out of the shower this morning and I just ran with it. I thought it would have greater impact if there wasnt any dialogue, so even though it was a bit difficult, this is all narration. Actually, I really enjoyed writing it and I think it turned out quite well. I hope you like it was much as I do. Enjoy!
Theyd been dating for well over six months now. Really, it couldnt be called dating because neither knew what the other looked like, or even their name. The only thing they knew was they were on opposite sides of this war.
Their relationship had obviously not started out as most other do. Frankly they had no idea how it had happened, just that it had. Not that they were complaining. At first, it had been awkward and needy. Their nights of passion had been just that, nights of passion and nothing more, no words exchanged. But over time, that had all changed.
It had taken them two months to even realize they were supposed to be enemies. The realization had shocked them, yes, but by that time they were in too deep, too deeply involved with one another. They had continued as before, skirting around the issue of their competing loyalties.
By the beginning of they fourth month they talked almost as much as they fucked. At the beginning, their nightly rendezvous had ended as quickly as they started, each going their own way as soon as possible. Now, they stayed for hours into the night, talking of everything and nothing, learning all they could about one another without leaving too much of themselves exposed.
And without even realizing it, they had fallen in love. The younger of the two was the first to admit it, five months into their relationship. Two weeks later his older lover too confessed.
They continued on for several more weeks, happy with the way things were but increasingly stressed by the war and the reality that they were fighting each other, had perhaps met on the battlefield already. The tension of not knowing who they loved was strangling, suffocating all joy they felt. The nightly reassurances were all that kept them sane.
A little over six months since their unexpected joining marked the turning point of their relationship. In all those six months, neither one had ever missed a meeting no matter what was going on in the outside world, in the war. That night, however, the elder of the pair stayed waiting for his lover long into the night, to when a blush of pink was just peaking over the horizon. He stayed as long as he could, fearing his love was gone.
The next night he went to their usual spot, dread and fear weighing heavily on his heart and soul. He had almost not come, almost certain that the younger boy was dead, or worse. It did not help knowing that he might have even seen the boy as a captive and not even known it.
All fear was immediately erased when his lover arrived, later than usual, but seemingly unharmed. Both seemed almost hysterical with relief at seeing the other. Their love making that night was long and passionate and filled with love and assurances of health and loyalty to the other.
Too soon it was time for them to go their separate ways, but neither seemed willing to leave. Finally, the younger boy broke down, desperate not to be separated. The older one tried to comfort him, but it too broke his heart to leave the other. Soothing the boy as best he could, he searched for an answer to solve the problem of their separation. Finally, he knew what to do, if only his love would consent.
When the boy had calmed down, he explained his plan. They would escape the war, leave England and go somewhere were they could be safe and happy, where they could be together. His young love agreed immediately.
They spoke longer, planning out their departure. They both knew they were prominent figures on their side and it would not do to have too many people looking for them. Bidding each other farewell and promising to meet back in an hour, they left to ensure that they would not be pursued, to leave notes and instructions and gather everything they needed. An hour later, they met again, both inordinately happy to be reunited, even after such a short time.
Before they ventured into their future, however, they decided they should at least know each others name and what they looked like. Without hesitation, the younger removed his glamour, revealing himself to be none other than the Savior of the Light, Harry Potter. He had expected a strong reaction, him being famous worldwide, but nothing like the one he received. The older man cried.
And Harry didnt know what to do to console his older lover. He had experience with tears, yes, but nothing like this. The man was distraught, perhaps even horrified at who his lover was. Harry had not expected his love to be horrified by who he was, and it broke his heart.
Harry curled into himself as the older man struggled to collect himself. When he had, he was aghast to see the effect he had had on the younger boy. He had been shocked, yes, but had never meant to hurt his love like that.
Murmuring soothing words, he worked to relax his young love, assuring him that his horror had not been aimed at him. He was taken aback when the boy asked him why he had been so horrified. Gathering every ounce of courage he possessed, he told Harry who he really was.
The news that he had been sleeping with Tom Riddle a.k.a. Lord Voldemort had a shockingly small reaction on the boy. Smiling, Harry told his love that it didnt matter who he was, he was loved and forgiven all the same. For the first time in his life, Tom Riddle truly felt loved and accepted.
Just before the sun rose, they left, leaving behind all traces of who they were, looking only at the future they would create together. The most powerful Dark Lord, his soul stained black, and the purest of souls, the Golden Boy of the Light.
A/N: -dies of mush- Mmm
not so sure about the ending (my mother distracted me and interrupted the flow D but it ended up longer than I thought and quite alright if I do say so myself. Again, I hope you liked it and please dont be afraid to REVIEW!!!