Disclaimer: Not mine. Well, I'm not really sure what it is, so it could be. But anything you recognize isn't mine.
Author's Notes: I'm not really sure what this is. I wrote it in the middle of the night over a year ago (before the release of Deathly Hallows), and it's been sitting, unfinished, in my fanfiction folder ever since. I tried to write a full-length story from it, but since I'm not sure exactly who or what it is, it got increasingly difficult. Please review and let me know what you think!
"How can I trust you with this? How do I know you'll really help?" His words cut through the thick layer of indifference that she had shrouded herself in for months. She looked at the floor and nibbled her lip.
"I would die for you," she said forcefully.
"Yes, but would you kill for me?" Her head snapped up. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, but she only stared, her mouth wide open.
"It's not hard to die for someone," he said. "You might not even have a choice. But to kill? That is something worthy of your promise." She raised an eyebrow skeptically. He didn't see. He was fiddling with his wand, turning it over and over in his hands. Though he seemed to be intently inspecting it, years of knowing him told her his mind was elsewhere. She lowered her eyebrow and waited for him to continue.
"You can see thestrals. You've seen death. We all have, nowadays. But it's different when you… caused it. When you see the life flow from their body, ebbing like the ocean at low tide. When you can see the spark disappear from their eyes. They become like marbles, like glass, with no thoughts. And you did that." She gave an involuntary shiver, but he didn't notice. He continued, as if in a trance.
"This battle coming up is the end."
"No!" she interrupted. "You can't just give in. You will live through it." He put up a hand. She wanted to continue anyway, but something in his eyes stopped her. He had a desperate look in his eyes, as if this might be their last conversation. As if this was his last chance. She sat back to let him speak.
"This battle will be the end. After this, the war will be over. I don't know if we will win or lose. I don't know if I will survive. But after this battle, the world will be in shambles. Someone will have to fix it." He pulled the thin chain off his neck and held it between them. A small bottle hung from it, spinning on the chain. The light reflected strangely from the swirling, silvery liquid inside.
"How do I know I can trust you with this?" he asked again. She took a deep breath and set her jaw before answering.
"I would die for you." A tear escaped her composed mask and rolled down her cheek. "I would kill too… for you." Her control crumbled and she began to sob. Before she knew what was happening, he had replaced the chain and gathered her up in his arms. He rocked her back and forth, shushing her quietly and running his hand through her hair.
"I know you would," he whispered softly in her ear. "But I don't want you to. You should never have to kill for me, or die for me." He put his hand on her shoulders and pulled away from her, looking into her eyes. Whatever he was looking for, he evidently found it, and smiled wistfully.
"I want you to live for me. When—if I die, I want you to keep going. Live your life for me." He removed the chain and placed it around her neck. "With this I will live on, through you. Please, don't promise to die for me. Promise to live for me.
"I promise," she whispered, tucking the vial into her robes and resting her head once more against his chest. They sat that way for a long while, savoring a rare moment of peace before the beginning of the end.