A/N: I'm just going to give some trigger warnings up front: depictions of character death (not graphic), depression, depiction of suicide (not graphic) and suicidal thoughts, and alcohol abuse.

He approached the body sprawled out on the floor in front of him. The bullet wound in her back was still so fresh that he swore there was smoke coming off of her. She lay face down with her arms pointing in different directions and her legs splayed. Probably because she was running away from the shooter when she met her end. Her dark hair fell in curls wildly spread out around her face.

He paced back and forth in front of the body, slowly rubbing his right hand through his hair while his left hand gently massaged his neck trying to relieve the tension that was building up.

He noticed how her soft, shapely body clashed against the hard, industrial surroundings. The building had been abandoned for quite some time, partially reclaimed by Mother Nature from the looks of it. The outside walls were half missing, others severely rusted did nothing to stop the chill from the cold night air from entering. The concrete floor had pools of murky water from the last rain, which had been days ago. Graffiti covered nearly every surface; apparently this was one of those abandoned buildings that budding young street arts used to try out their craft. He even noticed scuffs on the ground that most likely indicated repeated abuse from the grinding of skateboards.

He drew his eyes back to her body. As much as he tried to avoid looking at her, he knew he couldn't resist. Why had this happened?, he thought to himself with regret. They could have avoided this. They could have been together. All she had to do was come to him and tell him the truth before everything skyrocketed out of control. Instead she had remained secretive and headstrong. He could curse her for allowing her stubbornness to get him entangled in this mess, but then again weren't some of those same traits also the things he loved about her. His mind began to swirl with memories. As the memory of meeting her came to mind, he remembered that even back then he had known she was going to get him into trouble.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't register the car coming near the building despite the sound of the tires moving over the gravel road leading up to it. Luckily, even the fond memories couldn't prevent him from noticing the headlights shining through the many openings in the building's dilapidated walls. Coming back to reality he dove behind a nearby bulkhead, hoping that no one had seen him. He held his breath as the car neared, eventually coming to a stop in front of what should have been the door. His breath hitched as he heard the distinct sounds of feet stepping onto gravel and a car door slamming. The driver had not turned out the car headlights. Clearly not worried they may need to get the drop on someone, he assumed. As the steps crunched around the building, he realized that this person was examining the perimeter before coming inside. So they are taking some precautions. Luckily the bulkhead he hid behind shielded both himself and the dead woman's body from outside view.

He had to try and find a way to get out before the person found both occupants. He got up from his seated position, but made sure to remain crouched enough to stay hidden. That's when he saw the light from what could have only been a flashlight. Given that it was growing brighter, he knew the mystery person was now inside. He thought through his next few actions quickly. He picked up a piece of wood that was laying on the ground and grasped it in his hand firmly. Just enough to cause damage, but not to kill, he thought. But almost as quickly as the thought passed through him, he gently set the wood back on the floor. There could be no guarantees he wouldn't do too much damage, and he didn't want a body on his hands, or another one on his conscience. Despite how far he had fallen, he still had limits.

He would try to be the one to get the jump on this stranger. Hopefully he could knock the person out with just his hands and then finish cleaning up the scene around the body. He silently cursed himself for getting so distracted that he hadn't acted quicker to tie things up and get out of this forsaken place. Breathing in deeply to work up his courage, he moved as quietly as possible to the side of the bulkhead, while trying to remain crouched as the stranger approached. When the light suddenly stopped moving, he knew the person had seen the body.

"Bloody hell," he heard the person swear under his breath. Acting quickly, he knew he needed to use this moment of distraction to get the advantage. He rounded quickly around the rest of the bulkhead, and ran up on the stranger, a shorter male he gathered from his silhouette. He tackled the man to the ground and the two began to wrestle for control. The other man was no match for his size, so he easily kept him on the ground. Straddling the struggling man he tried to prevent him from turning over, steeling himself to deliver a punch that would knock this unsuspecting person out. Suddenly his opponent had a surge of strength and was able to knock him off and turn over. Winded, he scrambled up to resume his assault but he froze when he looked into the angry face of the other man. He jumped back instantly realizing his mistake. The other man registered recognition of his assailant and turned to his side, wheezing now that he was free.

He stood there for a second still frozen, mouth agape at the man on the ground. Before he could think of something more eloquent, he spouted out the first thing that came to him, "Bloody hell Harry! What are you doing here?"

The man gave him an accusing look. "Checking on my mate," Harry shot back. Then gathering himself, Harry stood up, stepped to the side, and pointed his arm behind him at the woman on the ground.

"I got a frantic message from you going on about how she was headed here and you thought she was in danger," Harry particularly spat the word 'she' at him. "So, maybe now you can tell me why you are here with a fucking dead body lying there, Ron."

Ron opened his mouth to reply back smartly, but he knew at that moment he had no right, not in the situation he had been found in, and he knew Harry knew why. It was because of her.