Wizarding World One Shots (Discontinued)

in the end -short story

The deathly hallows, a story widely known in the wizarding world, most familiar to death,and in the end there's only them. Watching, waiting, and staring from afar as 'he who must not be named' greatly surpassed his reach, though for he could only assume that the once three brothers, had once again returned to tease him as it was only a matter of time before the three of them fell once more, like father like son, but in the end,it never mattered.
Roaming, walking, running, Everything he'd yearned to do, but all he could do is wait, wait for them to come to him, watch them walk farther and farther from him. The omen of death being defeated by only those who feared him, and welcomed by those who neared it. They never cared much for anything other than the ones who escaped, watching him closely as the horcrux's we're made, his plans we're arranged, his goals were set. Yet not once have they ever failed to notice the snake staring back at him from afar, knowing he wasn't alone, talking to him occasionally only to be met with deaths eyes just peering back at him, leaving them both in silence. 'You've had better days' they'd heard him say,'one day' they could only lower their head in agreement,'why do you wait?' he couldn't answer,'why don't you join me?' he couldn't accept nor refuse, they only stared, their eyes never once flinching or blinking.
Whether he knew the answer the or not, deaths voice never once uttering a word despite their want to speak, to answer.
But alas, it never happened, he could distinctly remember the boys first encounter with him, the visible terror in his eyes as he could see death, watching as he stood over the boy all those years ago, watching Potter laugh with his mother not to far away, just outside the door as Snape held Lily's body tightly in tears. Yet only after the dark man had left had he taken Lily away with James, not showing any mean to hurt nor to damage them further, but to allow them to live the last moments of each other's presence peacefully, as relief Tom Riddle himself never seemed to understand. They truly meant no harm as their voice could only be heard after death, something riddle would never know, the silky red ink of the letters they'd exchanged being the only form of interaction in years of seeing each other,each knowing they could not come closer not stray farther.