For Miro--Harry Potter

Draco was going to die today, by his hand, and Harry thought that he should have felt something other than the bone-deep exhaustion, the numbness of spirit that had settled upon him days, weeks, deaths ago.

But all he could feel was that this was just another obstacle keeping him from the end. The war had lasted for so long.

Long enough to almost forget the way Draco's eyes darkened when he came.

Long enough to almost forget how he tasted, how he sounded, how his skin looked when flushed with blood.

Long enough to almost forget about love.

Harry raised his wand.