A/N: Yet another of my drabbles for Shira Lansys' Word Count Drabble Challenge. This time I was assigned exactly 200 words on Harry/Bill, with the prompts "sky" and "reflection". Last one, methinks. I need sleep!
You watch him the night they come back with a dead elf and three weak houseguests.
He's buttoned his mouth closed with shaking fingers. His silhouette is strong and sharp against the fading sky. You hear the distant clink of the shovel and his grunts and sobs and the sound of your own heart breaking piece by piece.
He's taller, his shoulders broader, but he's just seventeen and you've never wanted the war to end as much as you do in this moment. Look at him. His world is crumpling like paper and his feet can't find solid ground long enough to see that you all love him. He thinks he's in this alone but he's not.
He's not.
Because he's just a boy.
So why are you running to him? Why are you pulling him into your arms, letting him sob into the crook of your neck? Why are you pushing him back, looking into his eyes, looking for something there and finding only your own freckled face staring back at you from the panes of his glasses?
Why can't you look away from his eyes?
Why do you kiss him?
(He's just a boy, Bill, your reflection whispers.)