A/N: Drabble written for Halloween. Hope you enjoy! R&R

†††

he is dead.

all you can think of when you see him lay there is that the pure, concrete and unbearable fact that he is dead. he looks frail; you have never seen him looking so frail in your entire life. he is not smiling. he always said that he would die with a smile on his face; but he most certainly did not. he looks terrified; his eyes wide open, terror in his golden eyes. except that they are not golden anymore; they are empty and bland and brown. just brown. there is nothing majestic about that. his glasses are crooked even more than usual, and his head rests on the bottom stair in what must be an uncomfortable position.

but he cannot feel that anymore, can he?

death made him look small and scared and everything he was not.

he is life and joy and laughter.

you try to close his eyes, but they open again as soon as shut.

and then you mutter something not even yourself can understand, pat him on the shoulder like you have done so many times before, and you place one foot on the stair.

then the other.

†††

death made her look beautiful.

first, you tell yourself that you are sick for thinking something like this, but then you realise it's the truth. she looks beautiful, perhaps even more so in death than in life. the colour has left her once so rosy cheeks, but the whiteness makes her look like some very, very fine sculpture. her red locks look ever so vivid as they fall over her face. her cheeks are still wet from the tears, but else, she looks perfect; just like she always did. her fingers, long and pale, are entwined over her heart. she could be sleeping, if not for the awkward position of her body. her back is bent in what must be a painful way, and her head is turned towards the crib.

she could be sleeping, if not for the eyes.

those green eyes are wide open and empty and dull.

the light is gone from them; that beautiful light that has given you hope so, so many times.

she is not this.

she is warmness and kindness and all that is good and she feels like home.

you wonder where all that life could have possibly gone to.

and then, murmuring what should have been an apology, but only ended up being a groan, you walk over her, and you feel a tear falling down from your left eye.

then another.

†††

you hear a loud shriek, and you wonder whenever you ended up on your knees.

the scream must come from Harry.

or else, it is just you.