Harry stood on the edge of the cliff. Wind trembled beneath him, waves crashing again and again upon the cliff, an impending doom. When he looked back again, back to the horrors of the war. He stood unwavering. As the green light hit him, he had felt himself shatter into pieces, even as he came back, he didn't feel put together again. He has never felt like himself again. Maybe he never has. Maybe he was just a weapon. Maybe he was just the hero of a story. Maybe he's reached the end his story. Maybe he'll dream of that green light again and again. Maybe just one of those times, he'll come back like himself. Maybe. The wind howled again, carrying echoes and sorrows of those before him. Soft footsteps stopped upon the impending doom beside him. A soft rush of platinum blond hair, a flash of black ink. A boy who was once the enemy. A side of the same coin. The only boy who never knew Harry as the saviour of the wizarding world. The boy who knew him as just 'Harry'. At once the flash of green light is gone. For a second, green meets silver, a pasture to the silvery sky. Suddenly, Harry sees himself in the boy. Only known for what side they stood on. Only known to stand for 'good' or 'evil'. Only known for their status as 'villain' or 'hero'. A hand brushed his cheek. The hand of the boy who reminded him that the world did not end when the war did. The hand of the boy who reminded him of the future his parent's weren't able to pursue. He took a step closer. Rising further into the stormy sky. A thumb swiped across his wet face. He collapsed, into the arms of the boy. The boy whose name carries the weight of a million lives, rising and arching across the midnight sky. The boy whose name never left Harry's mind. The boy whose name Harry had come to care and cherish for. The boy whose name is Draco Malfoy.
And so, the hero and the villain stood in each other's embrace. Ying and yang. As one.