As requested, the alternate ending! It picks up towards the end of Part III, but I think it's pretty straightforward.

Read, review, love! :)

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

As his father's voice rent the air, Draco spun back around, his eyes wide with terror, his heart nearly splitting in two as a lance of adrenaline pierced through it—

And suddenly he was nothing, nothing but a whisper of what he had been, and he was broken, yet he was still intact, and he was walking away, letting the shadows welcome him into their cold arms.

But just before their shaded presences wrapped around him, another voice pierced Draco's consciousness with all the ferocity of a bolt of lightning.

"NO!"

Draco's eyes had begun to close, but as the desperation in that single word registered, they flew wide open, searching for the owner of that panicked voice.

But the shadows were persistent; they wreathed around him, whispering to him in their soft voices. Their words were laced with dark venom, but they welcomed him gently. Draco felt himself beginning to let go, but the terror of the person that had screamed was too important.

He is important, isn't he? He's someone I—Harry. Harry Potter.

His mind, although already partially saturated with the shadows' poison, remembered that simple name as easily as he remembered his own.

Harry Potter.

If he had spoken the words aloud, Draco knew that they would have tasted sweet on his tongue.

Just as sweet as his kiss.

A fractured memory surfaced: Eyes the striking green of summer grass fluttered closed and soft locks of disheveled black hair brushed against Draco's forehead as they both leaned a little closer. Their lips met and the two of them were locked together, bonded in ways they each could only have imagined at before they found each other.

That was our last kiss, before…

Draco had begun to relax under the presence of the memory, and the shadows had taken advantage of his weakness. They tightened their hold on him, still whispering urgently. Their words were veiled threats, sweet promises. Draco might have surrendered, but a few simple words chose that moment to settle in his mind and set themselves alight.

"You'll never lose me."

The words were spoken in his own voice, quiet, but very honest.

"Promise?"

Harry's voice, a note of hopefulness daring to show itself.

"Promise."

Draco could sense the firmness with which he had spoken the single word.

I promised him. I promised him, and—no!

Draco fought against the shadows, a sort of panicked determination flooding through him as he reared back from their cold grip. Let me go!

No.

Let me go!

Harry's scream, now only an echo but just as terror-stricken, sounded again in Draco's mind. Fury filled him. NOW!

He was strong, but the shadows were stronger. Draco clawed at them in a last attempt, terror beginning to seep into him.

Help me!

If he had been able, he would have gasped for air. But he was beyond that now…he was sinking, his eyes closing…

"No! Draco!"

The voice, torn from the throat of someone racked with fury and terror and the worst kind of grief, seemed to reach Draco from a great distance. But there was no mistaking its owner.

I'm here! Draco screamed silently. I'm—

The darkness surrounding him tightened its grip, and he fought back, desperation shooting through him like sparks.

Help me!

"I'm staying with you."

"No—I can't let you."

"I want to."

"You'll be killed!"

"Then I'll die next to you, and I can't think of a better way."

"Do you have any idea how stupid you're being?"

"No more so than you."

"I really can't change your mind?"

"You've never been able to before."

This is dying, right? It must be. And I meant what I said to him then, every word. But I can't be dying, can I? I can't be losing him…and he can't be losing me…

"Harry…I love you.

"I love you too, Draco."

"I mean it. Really, if we make it through this…I'll propose to you."

I remember how he smiled when I said that—once the initial shock wore off, that is. But he really did look happy, so happy… It's almost hard to believe. I've always wanted that with him, but until then I don't think I ever really thought that he'd want it with me.

"I want… I want to do what makes me happy."

It's now or never.

"Harry James Potter, will you marry me?"

"Of course, Draco."

He was so surprised when I mentioned it the first time, but he was so ready with his answer when I asked him for real. And the way he smiled at me…the way he gave me his answer, so readily…it just made me want that with him even more—no, not want. It made me need that. I need him to be happy, to feel safe and loved, to properly live. And I think he needs me too.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"No! Draco!"

He's scared for me—he thinks he's lost me. But has he? I don't know…I don't feel dead, but I can't see him anymore. I can't see anything anymore. I can only hear his voice.

Let me wake up. I have reason to live. Just let me wake up so I can see him again. I have to make sure he's okay. Just, please, if there's any way, any at all…let me go back to him. There's so much left undone. And my story—no, our story—isn't finished being written yet.

Even before Draco's eyes opened, he was conscious of simply being. He lay on his side on the cold stone floor, his arm extended towards a familiar wand—his mother's—which was lying mere inches from his hand.

What happened to me?

His body hurt all over, aching like a bruise. He opened his eyes as wide as he dared, and when he realized that he was alone, that there was no immediate danger, he made an effort to sit up. He pushed off of the floor with trembling hands and managed to get to his feet.

He turned his head and gasped.

Bellatrix lay frozen on the floor just across the room. Her eyes were open, and her teeth were still bared in her familiar manic snarl. She was dead, but Draco had to suppress a tingle of fear; she looked just as dangerous in death as she had been in life.

Draco retrieved his wand from the floor shakily and looked around him. The room was completely silent and empty but for himself and the immobile form of Bellatrix. But Draco was unsettled. The room felt as though someone had just left, someone who shouldn't have.

Draco bolted for the door.

There was nothing anymore.

Harry's vision was clouded by the veil of his tears, his ears rang with the sound of Lucius' voice shouting the incantation. He walked in front of the man with his head down and his feet dragging.

Let them see the Boy Who Lived now, he thought miserably.

"Move," the voice growled behind him. A large hand shoved him forward roughly; Harry stumbled, his reflexes still alert enough to catch him.

"Faster!"

Harry let himself be led like a dog on a leash; he was much too exhausted to fight. There was nothing to fight for anymore.

The sun had risen enough so that Harry could see his surroundings. He and Lucius were standing at the edge of the school grounds, just as close to the boundary as they could be without going beyond.

"Stop!"

Lucius' hand grabbed Harry's shoulder and yanked him to a halt before Harry could think of following the order on his own. He stared numbly across the dew-covered grounds of Hogwarts, trying not to look at the forest, or the lake, or any of the places that he and Draco had ever been to together.

Draco! Harry cried out desperately, soundlessly, but there was no answer.

Please come back! Please, I need you!

Harry let out a gasping sob, feeling the sting of tears return to his eyes.

Lucius' arm grazed Harry's as the taller man suddenly whipped around. "Did you hear—"

Harry spun on the spot, his heart leaping into his throat—he too had heard the unmistakable rhythm of running footsteps. His wide green eyes fell on the person sprinting across the grass towards them and recognized him instantly, but he wasn't—he couldn't be—

"NO!" Lucius screamed, his eyes blazing with disbelief.

"Harry, move!" Draco yelled desperately, raising his wand.

Obediently, mechanically, Harry leaped sideways as Draco took aim.

"STUPEFY!"

"AVADA KE—"

But Lucius was silenced as the bright red light of the Stunning Spell collided with him; he collapsed to the dew-soft grass at Harry's feet. Draco skidded to a halt, and Harry flung himself forward, pelting across the grass, his heart thrumming so violently he could feel its beat pulsing through his entire body. He couldn't believe it—there was no way it could be happening, but as the two of them met in a fierce embrace, Harry knew with every part of him that it was.

"Harry," Draco muttered against Harry's neck. "My god…you're okay."

"I thought you were dead!" Harry half-yelled, hysteria rising up in him as realization dawned. "Avada Kedavra—you fell—you were dead!"

"I don't know what happened," Draco said in a small voice. "But—he tried to kill me…he wanted to kill me…"

"That doesn't matter," Harry said firmly, holding Draco tightly against his chest. "You're safe."

"I always thought…" Draco trailed off. "I mean…I didn't think he'd…"

And Harry realized with a shock that Draco was trembling, ever so slightly, in his arms, that his hand had gone limp and the wand had fallen to the ground, that his gray eyes were shining and a single tear was slowly tracing a line down his cheek.

"Oh god, Draco," Harry murmured, pulling the other boy more tightly against him. "Come here…it's okay…"

Draco let himself be held, and Harry stroked his back as comfortingly as he could. A long minute passed before Draco pulled away, none too gently. Harry reluctantly let him go and watched as Draco retrieved his wand and walked over to the unmoving form of his father. With a quietly-spoken spell and a purposeful flick of Draco's wand, Lucius was suddenly bound tightly in chains.

"There," Draco muttered, just loudly enough for Harry to hear. "You're done fighting."

Harry was suddenly rooted to the spot as he remembered—the war wasn't over. The fighting was still going on. And he, Harry Potter, was the only one with the power to end it for the better.

"Draco," he gasped. "I'm so sorry—I've got to go."

Draco turned around with sad gray eyes. "I'll be here," he said. "I can't go back in."

"I might not come out," Harry reminded him.

They held eye contact for a long moment before Draco came forward and kissed Harry softly.

"If nothing else," he said quietly, holding Harry's gaze with his beautiful gray eyes. "Just remember that I loved you."

Harry swallowed hard and kissed Draco back fiercely, losing himself for one fiery moment in the burning love he felt. He didn't think he could speak, so he allowed this kiss to say the words for him.

They pulled apart, and Draco lightly shoved Harry away with one hand.

"Go."

Harry turned and sprinted back towards the castle. Every step took him closer to his future—and perhaps his destiny—but every step also took him farther away from the one person he wanted most to share the future with him.

Draco couldn't turn around.

He couldn't let what could so easily become his last memory of Harry be an image of the handsome black-haired boy running away from him and towards his death. No. He would keep the memory of how Harry had comforted him, how gently he had held him, how stable he had been when Draco had needed someone to support him. He would keep the sounds of Harry's whispered words, the gentle tone of his voice soothing and the words themselves heartfelt. He would keep the image of the emerald-green eyes smoldering with the sort of fierce loyalty and love that only Harry Potter was capable of giving, and, with them, the incredible knowledge that he, Draco Malfoy, was considered worth giving that love to.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself, before opening them again and gazing down at his father's immobile form at his feet. Stunned and bound, Lucius could pass as dead.

He should be. He wanted to kill us, both of us. He deserves to be dead.

Draco fingered the wand in his hand before he pointed it at Lucius, but he couldn't make himself speak the words. Not yet.

"Ennervate."

Lucius' eyes opened, and he stared hollowly up at Draco for a long moment before coming fully to his senses.

"Impossible," he spat, hatred spreading across his eyes like blood in water. "I killed you."

"You tried," Draco said coldly, letting an emotionless mask slide over his face. Lucius' fingers tightened threateningly around the wand in his hand; Draco immediately kicked it out of his grip.

Lucius strained against the chains, his eyes shining with venom. "I will never," he snarled, staring up at Draco, "forgive you for this."

"I never," Draco said back, imitating his father's tone, "thought you would."

"I didn't raise you to turn out like this," Lucius hissed, breathing hard. "You should have served your Lord, kept the Malfoy name spoken in tones of admiration. No one with my name"—his eyes blackened completely, becoming the darkest shadows—"becomes involved with another boy. Especially," he snarled, "Especially not Harry Potter."

Draco's eyes swept over his father, lying in the grass, bound in chains, with hatred in his eyes and venomous words dripping from his mouth. And he remembered Harry, standing beside him, holding his hand, with love in his eyes and honest words journeying from his mouth straight to Draco's heart.

He raised his wand.

"I don't want to," he told his father.

Lucius stared up at him in defiance, breathing heavily.

"But you tried to kill me, just because I love him. And you threatened him too. You would have killed him."

Lucius didn't move.

"But I love him, and I always will, and I wish…" Draco trailed off, but he didn't let his gaze stray or his voice waver. "I wish you could have accepted that. But it's too late now."

A very small part of him screamed that he would regret it. But his heart maintained its steady beat, his gaze stayed focused on the man lying at his feet, and his hand was steady as he aimed the wand.

"Avada Kedavra."

Harry sprinted down the last corridor, approaching the open doors of the Great Hall. The war was still going strong, but the screams of the fighters did little to rival the sound of Harry's heartbeat thudding in his ears. He gripped the hawthorn wand tighter in his hand and ran the last few meters into the Hall.

He caught sight of Voldemort immediately, but his breath hitched in his throat when he saw the scene properly. Ron and Neville were standing shoulder to shoulder, facing Voldemort bravely, but Ron's arm was still twisted and broken, and Neville's forehead was marred with blood.

Voldemort's laughter pierced the air as he sent a minor jinx at the two boys; Ron deflected it awkwardly with his left hand. Neville attempted a Stunning Spell, but Voldemort tossed the curse aside with the air of one batting away an insect and continued to laugh.

The blood sang in Harry's ears, drowning his heartbeat. He fired red sparks at the enchanted ceiling with Draco's wand, fury crackling through him like flame.

"Riddle!" he shouted.

Voldemort spun to face him; Ron and Neville merely looked stunned.

"Potter," Voldemort hissed, his crimson eyes burning like coals. "Come to surrender properly?"

"Not this time," Harry snarled, advancing.

"Let's try that again," Voldemort said, his gaze flicking briefly to Ron and Neville. "Surrender properly, Potter, and these two need not die now."

Immediately Ron's blue eyes and Neville's brown met Harry's behind Voldemort's back. Ron's expression was full of steadfast loyalty; there was no question that he was willing to die for Harry. Neville's expression showed clearly the strain of the war and the grief of a lost love, but he nodded as if to say, It's okay.

Harry stepped even closer to Voldemort, holding Draco's wand out before him.

"No," he said.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"We started this together," Harry said, meeting the crimson stare. "And that's how we'll end it. Nobody else is going to die for this, not tonight."

They regarded each other, and then, as if by unspoken command, reacted.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The spell was spoken in two voices, but only one could have the upper hand. One was fueled by nothing but hatred, severed pride, and a burning hunger for power, while the other sang with loyalty to friends, to family, and to love.

Harry stepped forward, the wand outstretched and emerald fire blazing from it, and standing alongside him in spirit was everyone who he was fighting for: Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna. Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore. James and Lily. Draco, and the future they would share.

It was with these hearts beating alongside his that Harry watched the green flames engulf Tom Riddle's body. As he watched the wand slip from the pale-skinned hand and fall to the floor. As he watched the crimson eyes fly wide with disbelief and then close, cutting off all sight, cutting off all light.

And Harry watched as Lord Voldemort sank to the floor, never to rise again, just as James and Lily had done to protect their son, just as Luna and Fred had done to protect their friends. Just as Ron and Neville had been prepared to do, for him.

Just as Draco had done, but he alone had escaped to stand again.

Harry stared down at the immobile form of Voldemort for a long moment before Ron and Neville broke into elated yells. Death Eater after Death Eater turned to find their lord dead and Harry Potter standing over his body. And those of Harry's army threw themselves back into the fight with renewed vigor, Stunning and Petrifying with incredible speed.

But all Harry could do was continue to stand as his people flooded around him, yelling and crying and nursing injuries and firing sparks into the air. His disbelief was too much for him at first, but after a minute, his face split into a smile. And that smile didn't fade, not even when Hagrid picked him up and crushed the breath out of him with a hug.

The war was over. And he, Harry James Potter, had lived to see the life-changing end of it.

Draco lifted his head when he heard footsteps behind him. He stood up quickly, not bothering to brush away the fresh earth clinging to his knees, and turned around, praying for this person to have a certain identity.

Harry stood there, his hair messy and windswept and his eyes shining triumphantly. He stepped forward and pulled Draco into a hug. Overcome with relief, Draco closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Harry, inhaling the other boy's scent and sinking into his presence.

He's okay. He's okay.

"It's over," Harry murmured into Draco's ear. "It's over, and we've got everything ahead of us now."

"Everything?" Draco whispered.

Harry's eyes flickered with warmth. "Does that offer you made still stand?"

Draco laughed shortly. "Yes," he said, smiling into Harry's face. "Yes, it does. And now that—" He broke off.

"Now that what?" Harry asked.

Draco tore his gaze away from Harry's. "Now that my father is dead we can be a proper family," he whispered hoarsely.

"Your father is—" For a moment Harry looked too thunderstruck to speak. His green gaze flitted from Draco's face to the pile of freshly overturned earth at their feet and back again. "Draco, you didn't!"

"I did," Draco said, ashamed to feel hot tears prickling in his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because…" Draco trailed off at first, trying to choose the words that would make Harry understand. He focused his gaze on the brilliant green of Harry's eyes and willed himself to concentrate. "I would have been able to live with him not accepting you, or me, or us," he said. "But he tried to kill us, just because of our feelings for each other. It's not—" Draco broke off again, gritted his teeth briefly, and continued. "It's not something I can forgive."

"You really killed your father for trying to kill you?"

Draco lifted his chin defiantly. "I killed him for us," he said firmly. "Now forever is ours, and he can't do anything to take that away."

For a long moment, Harry was silent.

Then he stepped forward, leaned in, and pressed his lips to Draco's. Draco closed his eyes and slid his hands around Harry's neck, holding him close. Harry lifted his hands to Draco's face and caressed his skin softly.

Harry broke the kiss, leaving Draco breathless. He opened his eyes to see Harry gazing back at him, his expression deadly serious.

"If forever is ours now," he said, "I promise I'll make it worthwhile."

Overwhelmed, Draco kissed him, and as he did the world seemed to melt away. There was nothing but the two of them standing at the edge of the grounds of Hogwarts. They did not see the clouds steadily cover the sun, nor feel the slight rain that settled the dust around them. They forgot that at their feet was the final resting place of Lucius Malfoy. All they knew was the softness of the other's mouth on their own, the other's hands holding them close, and the love for each other that had gotten them both safely through the night.

Harry pushed open the doors of the Great Hall with one hand, not willing to let go of Draco's with the other. As the two of them stepped into the Hall, many eyes turned to face them, some glinting with tears, some half-closed with exhaustion, some shining with triumph and relief.

Neville stumbled up to them with his head heavily bandaged and his arm in a sling, but he hugged Harry with his good arm and smiled at Draco before walking past them out the doors of the Great Hall. Harry wondered if he was going to recover Luna's body.

Molly and Arthur Weasley stood with their arms around each other. George was on his knees beside Fred, who was lying peacefully on the floor of the Great Hall with his eyes closed, never to reopen. Harry closed his own eyes when the sounds of George's heartbroken sobs reached his ears.

Bill and Fleur stood beside the body of Kingsley Shacklebolt, their heads bowed respectfully. Seamus and Dean sat together in the corner, conversing quietly. Hagrid walked up to them and engulfed Harry into another hug.

"Yeh did it, Harry," he said, his beetle-black eyes shining. "It's good ter see yeh alive."

"Thanks," Harry responded, smiling up at Hagrid.

"An' Malfoy too," Hagrid added, nodding to Draco, who looked up at him.

"Call me Draco," he said tiredly, surprising Harry.

"Good ter see yeh alive too, then," Hagrid amended, "Draco."

Draco smiled.

"Have you seen Ron, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Sure, he's jus' over there," Hagrid said, pointing towards the far corner of the Great Hall. "Bin there for a while, think he's tryin' ter contact Hermione."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, walking towards Ron and gently pulling Draco after him. They weaved through the people crowding the Great Hall until they reached Ron.

When he heard their footsteps, he looked up and met Harry's eyes. "Harry!"

Harry let go of Draco's hand, stepped forward, and met Ron in a hug. Ron smiled at Harry when they pulled apart, but he looked worried.

"I've been trying to find Hermione with this," he explained, holding up the D.A. Galleon in his good hand. "I'm sure she has hers, but she's not answering me." Ron's eyes shone with worry. "I hope nothing's happened to her."

"I reckon she's just lying low," Harry said. "Hermione's smart enough to keep her head down for a while if she thinks we've been defeated. You'll find her, and let me know when you do."

Ron smiled and kept working with the coin. Harry turned to Draco and gently squeezed his hand.

Draco's head snapped up. "What?" he said, looking as though he'd just been awoken.

"You're falling asleep on your feet," Harry said, smiling at him. "Do you want to find somewhere you can lie down for a while?"

Draco rubbed his hand over his face. "I'm okay," he said.

"I'll come with you. I'm tired too."

Draco smiled. "In that case, sure."

Harry smiled back and told Ron they were leaving in case anyone missed them before he and Draco crossed the Hall to the doors and slipped through them.

"Where should we go?" Draco asked, slurring his words slightly with exhaustion.

"Room of Requirement?" Harry suggested. Draco agreed with a slight nod, and they began the walk across the castle. Now both of them were feeling the strain of the night they'd just gone through; their steps slowed and the few words they spoke to each other were mumbled quietly.

When at last they reached the expanse of blank wall, Harry let go of Draco's hand and paced back and forth in front of the wall, repeating a phrase in his mind: We need a place to sleep for a while.

A door appeared and Harry reached for the handle, pulling it open and stepping through into a dark room. Draco followed and shut the door behind him.

The room they'd been given was small and warm. A large, inviting bed stood against the back wall, and the absence of lighting would make it easy to fall asleep. For a minute, they undressed in silence, toeing off shoes and slipping off jackets and laying wands down on the small bedside table.

Draco got in bed first and slid over to make room for Harry. After setting his glasses down next to his wand, Harry got in and felt Draco's arms encircle him as soon as he lay down. He smiled and pulled Draco close to him, resting their foreheads together.

"I still can't believe you're alive," he whispered. "I thought for sure—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Draco whispered back quietly.

"I'm sorry," Harry replied. "But it would've torn me apart. It did, when I thought that was what happened. I just wanted you to know that."

Draco was silent, and Harry was beginning to wish he hadn't said anything when the other boy spoke.

"I heard you scream."

"What?"

"When I was… I heard you scream, and I remembered your name, and…" Draco swallowed. "I remembered that I promised you I would never leave you, and I knew I was…I was breaking my promise."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked, slightly confused.

"I think I was dying, but…we weren't finished, Harry. Our story wasn't over. I realized that, and I fought, and…they let me go."

"You…" Harry struggled to find the words, "chose to come back?"

Draco nodded silently.

"Because you heard…my voice?"

Draco nodded again and closed his eyes. "You sounded so scared, Harry," he whispered. "I couldn't leave you all alone like that."

For a moment, Harry was still, running through the words in his mind and repeating them. Something was blocking his throat. He kissed Draco's cheek.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Draco looked up at him with weary gray eyes, and as their gazes locked, Harry felt his heart fill slowly with warm affection. And as Draco leaned towards him and their lips met, soft and sweet, Harry let himself relax and fade into the warmth of Draco's skin against his, into the solidity of Draco's arm around his back, and into the clear, beautiful shade of Draco's eyes.

For a long time they held each other, saying nothing, letting the soft meeting of their mouths and the slight brushes of fingers on skin do the talking for them. And as they both relaxed completely, closed their eyes, and allowed themselves to succumb to sleep, Harry knew he'd never been happier.

He was alive, and Lord Voldemort was dead. The future was wide open for him, and for all those who had survived. They were free to live out their lives, with nothing to get in the way. The sudden freedom was inviting, but it was also intimidating.

Harry opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at Draco. The other boy's eyes were closed, his fingers were threaded through Harry's and resting between them, his breathing and his heartbeat were slow and steady.

I don't think any of us could ever have a perfect future, Harry thought sleepily, letting his eyes close. But if I have him by my side, I know we'll make it through anything.