time to live, drabble, h/hr, 331 words, pg-13, post-dh. written for pdelusional. Takes place just after Harry defeated Voldemort. First fic ever.

Obviously I'm not JKR. The books would be kinda poetic if I did D

Time to live.

We're going home, and they're dead. Why are we going home when they're dead? Ron looks at the wall, wait, no, me, with dead eyes. Ron's looking like dead, with hunched shoulders, blank, empty, dead eyes.

Ron's eyes are dead and we're going home. Away from the dead. Away from Ron. We live and we go away from Ron with dead eyes. We're alive when Harry puts his arm on my waist and drags me. We're alive when we move, me and Harry, a swirl of images and shapes around us, and we move on to the next place (like we did all those days before). Home. Away from the dead. Time to live.

"I don't want to live," I say, words almost unspoken on my tongue.

"We have to," is all I get. "Why are we living when they're dead, Harry?" I want to say, "Why do we live when Ron is dead?"

A nod is all he gets. I don't want to live, I want to crawl up and die like Ron did, but I can't, because Harry- Harry lives, Harry puts his arm around my waist, Harry looks at me with alive, burning eyes. I can't die with Ron because Harry still burns.

Harry. I'm on tiptoes, kiss him, it says, with more intensity now. Kiss him. Kiss him now or you'll die like-

He backs away. He looks at me with traitor eyes, an insult on the tip of his tongue, and his eyes still burn. I look at them, I look deep, I look deeper, there has to be, he has to, I'm not alive for nothing. He looks at me back, with just a little bit more understanding than I would like.

His eyes still burn, they burn for me, and he's damning us for living.

Later that night, his grip still strong around my waist, eyes still burning -now with red lips, hoarse voice- he'll tell me that we've always been alive for nothing.

--

Comments, please? This is my first fic ever, so I'd like to hear your thoughts, constructive criticism is more than welcome )