Title: Fated
Author: Miss T
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Romance/Dark/Fluff/Muuuuuush!
Warnings: Slash, Character Death, Violence
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Timeline: 7th year
A/N: This is my first attempt at something a bit darker to my previous fics – its not incredibly dark right enough, but it does have death in it and a lot of violence and drug references so… *shrugs* oo, and some sexual situations between two guys. So if that offends you, don't read! Consider yourself warned! Oh, and this story has been based on a sort of Romeo/Juliet (mostly from the movie) romance type… thing. :)
CHAPTER 4 – Downfall and Demise
Draco grinned at himself in the mirror as he washed his face, thinking about what had just happened.
He had narrowly escaped colliding into Narcissa or Pansy on the way back to the Slytherin dungeons, thanking all his Gods that he had also escaped the proposal.
The events of the night seemed to spin around in his head over and over again, like a jammed roll of film, and he found himself walking around with a permanent grin, causing most passers by to frown in confusion as it was very rare to see Draco Malfoy smile. What could he smile about after all?
*Harry Potter.* Draco thought to himself as he grabbed a fluffy green towel from the radiator and began to dry himself off. The chain that Harry had given him hung lightly around his neck, the pendant dangling silently 3 or so inches below his collar. He had never have thought this would happen in a million years – for one thing no one but himself knew about his attraction to the Boy Who Lived.
Placing the towel back down Draco unclasped the wings from his back, letting them fall carelessly to the bathroom floor, and lifted his shirt off over his head, it too landing in a small pile on the bathroom tiles.
As he made his way back to his bed, Draco fiddled with the small pendant of the necklace, feeling it heat up underneath his fingers. Crawling silently into the bedroom, he sneaked under his covers, managing to leave the group of 4th year boys asleep.
He then thought about Harry… Harry's eyes, what Harry told him… Harry's lips…
Running a slender hand through his hair, Draco grinned and let the woos of sleep and memories wash over him.
~~~*~~~
Harry woke up with a groggy cough, sensing a very annoying light shining over his vision. Blearily opening his eyes he groaned as he realised his guess was right – but not only was this shiny light very irritating – it was moving too. It seemed to reflect off of every corner of his vision, waving around tiny bands of light through his eyes making him feel slightly nauseous.
"Come on, Mr Sleepy Head. Time to wake up and smell the coffee!" A quiet but overly cheerful voice muffled from the left side of Harry. Groaning again Harry blinked once, then again, and let his eyes roll and focus on the object in front of him that was causing so much distress.
"Coff… wa… eh… who?" Harry mumbled incoherently, blinking again and realising that a levitating hand was waving a shiny white mug of hot steaming coffee two inches from his nose.
The mug moved away and suddenly a very large, very goofy face was grinning in amusement in front of him.
"Ron?" Harry managed croakily.
"Yes. That's right. Ron. Remember? Your living best friend? Welcome back to earth, Harry!" Ron pulled Harry's shoulder up and propped him up against his pillows, forcing the cup of coffee into his hands.
"What time is it?" Harry said, clicking his mouth because he felt like he had swallowed a whole sack of cotton wool.
"Well, let's just put it this way, Harry – it certainly isn't the morning anymore." Ron giggled, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed.
Harry groaned again, looking around the room blearily and noticing that all of the other beds were empty and made.
"Listen, mate," Ron began. "What did you take last night?"
Harry screwed up his eyes, too much light seemed bad. Taking a sluggish sip from his coffee, he coughed and began to explain. "Seamus gave me something. I don't know why I took it – I must have been mad. It made me very sick." He hiccupped, and grimaced as his stomach made a low gurgling noise.
"Too right! Not to mention you disappeared half the night!" Ron guffawed, eyeing Harry up and down in mock distaste.
Harry nervously licked his lips and took another sip from his coffee. "I was sick. I… I went to my bed." But Harry knew what had happened last night. He knew what had happened with Malfoy… he couldn't stop thinking about it as he sat there, one of his hands underneath the covers where he idly thumbed at Draco's silver token of affection. Or token of vows. Whatever he had called it.
Ron lifted an eyebrow apprehensively and let out a snort of laughter. "If you say so, Harry." He grinned, patting Harry on the back and standing up. Harry felt his stomach gurgle again, and he sucked dryly at the insides of his cheeks.
"God Harry, you look bloody green, mate." Ron laughed, as he began to walk out of the room. "You'll be thankful it's Sunday. I'll leave you to it – just try not to throw up on my side of the wall, will you?" Ron smirked as he closed the door behind him.
Harry lazily finished the coffee, thankful for it's slightly comforting warmth in the pit of his stomach. The haziness in his head faded a little, and he had just managed to doze of again when a loud clatter at the window startled him quite suddenly.
Jumping and rolling his eyes as he saw Hedwig pop her head into the window, Harry sighed and slowly stumbled his way out of bed towards her.
"Hiya girl." He croaked happily, rubbing at his eyes.
Hedwig hooted gently and poked out her leg to reveal a small folded up piece of parchment attached.
"Who's this from, Hedwig?" Harry asked, yawning as he took the piece of paper, starting to unfold it. Blinking and trying to gain a decent focus, he held it to the window and began to read.
Harry,
My heart is bleeding and it needs repairing. Lets finish what we started. Meet me in the A.T. at dusk. Alone. My soul will be waiting.
Forever yours,
Draco.
Harry screwed up his nose and read again. *How annoyingly poetic.* He thought as he tossed the note onto the bed and scrambled inside the covers. For the first time in the day, he felt himself grinning as he buried his face into the pillow, giggling like a girl.
~~~*~~~
"Hey Weasley! Is that your dad in the papers again?" A shrill voice carried from the other side of the corridor. Ron rolled his eyes and turned around.
"It's the weekend Zabini, haven't you got anything better to do? Like take a bath or something?" Ron spat, coming face to face with the dark haired Slytherin, who merely grunted.
"That's rich coming from somebody who bathes in a trough!" He replied, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Ron felt his face grow very red and he clenched his fists at his sides.
"Ron, don't… just leave it…" Hermione pleaded as she clutched at his arm, glaring back at Blaise. "He's not worth it."
Hermione and Ron had originally set off to do some homework at the library but had found themselves in a tangled meeting with a group of seventh year Slytherins on their way to the dungeons.
"Oh, what's the matter, Weasley?" Blaise taunted, sneering wildly. "You have to get a mudblood to keep you out of trouble? How touching!"
The Slytherins all shrieked with laughter at this, Pansy Parkinson being the loudest, who was standing by Blaise's side.
Ron flared his nostrils and turned to Hermione looking at her desperately. Her lips were very tightly pursed, her cheeks ablaze.
In the past couple of years Blaise Zabini had done the absolute unthinkable – he had overtaken Draco Malfoy in obnoxiousness. Some people said it was because he was jealous of his friend, others just believed that Blaise was indeed, a far more horrible person than the renowned Ice Prince of Slytherin. But even Ron, Hermione and Harry had noticed that Draco was far more subdued nowadays, sticking to his study instead of his sneer, and the Kingdom had been gratefully passed onto Zabini.
"I think he's going to cry!!" Blaise shrieked to the crowd, who were in hysterics. "Ohhh, spare me, Weasley!" He cried, stepping in closer.
Ron had had enough. He had managed to keep his hands of off Blaise for 24 hours, but now… now he was mad. He was at boiling point. Screaming and running towards the dark haired Slytherin, Ron grabbed Blaise by the collar and launched him onto the stone flooring. In a matter of seconds, fists were flying in the air, claws were out, and a large crowd had formed around them.
Nobody had noticed that a determined figure was forcing their way through the large circle, screaming for them to stop and almost being dragged into the fight himself.
"STOP!!!" He yelled, causing the entire crowd to hush with immediate silence, and Ron and Blaise to look up from their position on the floor.
A very ill looking Harry stood over the pair of them, glasses askew, hair in a right state.
Ron was lying on his back, Blaise on top of him with a bloody fist raised, his mouth contorted into a hateful snarl. "And what do you want, Potter?" He spat, dropping his fist and standing up, deliberately kicking Ron on the way, who too had stood up.
"Stop fighting!" Harry yelled again. "I'm sick of seeing Ron with a black eye, or a cut lip! There hasn't been a day gone by where he hasn't had any type of injury caused by you!" He cried desperately, ignoring the churning in his stomach, the light headed nausea creeping into his vision.
"He asked for it, Potter. Not stay out of other people's business." Blaise snapped, stepping towards Harry. The crowd gasped.
"But it is my business, Zabini! Ron's my best friend!" Harry looked over at Ron, who stared back at him blankly.
"Why are you here, Harry?" Ron asked quite suddenly.
Harry blinked and looked back at his friend. "I was on my way to the hospital wing to pick up some potion for my headache." He answered back with a frown.
"Then I think you'd better be on your way." Ron said blankly.
Harry let out a gasp of breath and snorted. "What?" He asked, completely baffled by his best friend's behaviour.
"I started this, Harry. Just get to the hospital wing." Ron answered back quite evenly. Harry looked over at Blaise who was grinning wildly, and noticed that one of his front teeth were missing, making him look more mad than ever.
"I can't!" Harry retorted. "I can't let you, Ron!"
Blaise stepped in close to Harry, their noses inches apart. "You heard Weasel, Potter. Be on your merry way, now."
Harry blinked away the sickness creeping inside his head and managed a snarl. "You leave my best friend alone, you dirty, no good Slytherin!" He rasped, taking a step forward and causing Blaise to stumble back ever so slightly.
"Oh, so it's like that then, is it Potter? Jealous are we? Jealous that you got landed in Gryffindor when you know that all you really wanted was to be in Slytherin. All you wanted was to be bad… like us." Blaise giggled madly.
Harry frowned and shook his head vigorously. "If I wanted to be in Slytherin, believe me I would be in Slytherin. But thank Merlin I'm not – if I had to put up with 6 years of you I would have done what Malfoy done – completely disowned the fact that I never knew you." Harry breathed, lifting his chin up defiantly.
Blaise opened his mouth, abashed. Then, screwing up his eyes, he lunged on top of Harry, causing Harry to land with into a crumpled heap on the floor. Immediately, Blaise began kicking Harry in the stomach, swinging his arms at Ron who was trying to stop him.
"You dirty little half-blood! You'll see one day, Harry Potter – when the Dark Lord defeats you… you WILL see the true power of Slytherin!" Blaise screamed.
Harry felt his stomach jolt and churn violently as Blaise connected his boot with his body, feeling the sick threatening to shoot out of his mouth and spray…
Desperately, Harry clung onto the bottom of Blaise's robes and yanked himself onto his knees, causing the crowd to gasp and move back, some of them running away presumably to tell a teacher. Harry crawled towards Blaise madly clawing at his legs. "How dare you talk about the man who killed my parents! HOW DARE YOU, DEATH EATER!" He cried, his voice squeaking and breaking as he screamed.
Just then, Blaise bumped into Ron, who immediately spun round and went flying into the glass statue of Morag The Witch which fell over with a tremendous smash. Blaise had also fallen over, yelping in pain as his palm crunched onto the smaller shards of glass. Then, without thinking, he grabbed a long slice of broken statue and hurled it at Ron who was still lying in a heap on the floor.
There was a desperate scream from the crowd, more screams, whimpers, gasps and excited murmurs. Harry got to his feet and scanned the ground frantically. Blaise was pushing past a small group of huddled girls, running away from the scene altogether.
Harry felt his breath quicken as he advanced on his friend, squinting in pain as his stomach threatened to convulse.
"Ron?" He croaked, lifting his friend up by the shoulders. Ron looked up at Harry, his face was covered in sweat, his arm was wrapped tight around his waist. His bottom lip quivered tremendously.
"Ron what's wrong?" Harry whispered, his eyes searching Ron's face for a reaction.
Ron slowly looked down at his arm, shivered and lifted it away from his waist, lifting up his white shirt at the same time.
Nothing could have prepared Harry for what he saw. He felt his stomach leap out of his chest and into his mouth, beating rapidly and sorely. His eyes bugged out their sockets, forcing red hot tears to convulse down his cheeks. "Ron…" He breathed, as Ron looked back up at him, smiling weakly.
A large yawning gash marred Ron's left side, pouring with endless amounts of arterial blood. Harry was faintly aware of Hermione running over to them, her hysterical cries, and then the thud of her body landing on the floor with a faint.
Harry's nostrils flared about wildly as he looked at his best friend, his white, sweaty face – looking blankly back at him.
"I'll be OK, Harry." Ron choked, knowing himself that he would not.
Harry felt his body shake violently as Ron slumped onto him, causing them both to land with a nasty thud on the ground. "Ron…" Was all he could breathe, as his best friend lay shivering in his arms. Then with one final breath, Ron looked Harry straight in the eyes and murmured very quietly, "Is this all really worth it, Harry?"
Harry choked. He wailed into the silent crowd, tears streaking down his face as he held his dead best friend in his arms.
~~~*~~~
Author: Miss T
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Romance/Dark/Fluff/Muuuuuush!
Warnings: Slash, Character Death, Violence
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Timeline: 7th year
A/N: This is my first attempt at something a bit darker to my previous fics – its not incredibly dark right enough, but it does have death in it and a lot of violence and drug references so… *shrugs* oo, and some sexual situations between two guys. So if that offends you, don't read! Consider yourself warned! Oh, and this story has been based on a sort of Romeo/Juliet (mostly from the movie) romance type… thing. :)
CHAPTER 4 – Downfall and Demise
Draco grinned at himself in the mirror as he washed his face, thinking about what had just happened.
He had narrowly escaped colliding into Narcissa or Pansy on the way back to the Slytherin dungeons, thanking all his Gods that he had also escaped the proposal.
The events of the night seemed to spin around in his head over and over again, like a jammed roll of film, and he found himself walking around with a permanent grin, causing most passers by to frown in confusion as it was very rare to see Draco Malfoy smile. What could he smile about after all?
*Harry Potter.* Draco thought to himself as he grabbed a fluffy green towel from the radiator and began to dry himself off. The chain that Harry had given him hung lightly around his neck, the pendant dangling silently 3 or so inches below his collar. He had never have thought this would happen in a million years – for one thing no one but himself knew about his attraction to the Boy Who Lived.
Placing the towel back down Draco unclasped the wings from his back, letting them fall carelessly to the bathroom floor, and lifted his shirt off over his head, it too landing in a small pile on the bathroom tiles.
As he made his way back to his bed, Draco fiddled with the small pendant of the necklace, feeling it heat up underneath his fingers. Crawling silently into the bedroom, he sneaked under his covers, managing to leave the group of 4th year boys asleep.
He then thought about Harry… Harry's eyes, what Harry told him… Harry's lips…
Running a slender hand through his hair, Draco grinned and let the woos of sleep and memories wash over him.
~~~*~~~
Harry woke up with a groggy cough, sensing a very annoying light shining over his vision. Blearily opening his eyes he groaned as he realised his guess was right – but not only was this shiny light very irritating – it was moving too. It seemed to reflect off of every corner of his vision, waving around tiny bands of light through his eyes making him feel slightly nauseous.
"Come on, Mr Sleepy Head. Time to wake up and smell the coffee!" A quiet but overly cheerful voice muffled from the left side of Harry. Groaning again Harry blinked once, then again, and let his eyes roll and focus on the object in front of him that was causing so much distress.
"Coff… wa… eh… who?" Harry mumbled incoherently, blinking again and realising that a levitating hand was waving a shiny white mug of hot steaming coffee two inches from his nose.
The mug moved away and suddenly a very large, very goofy face was grinning in amusement in front of him.
"Ron?" Harry managed croakily.
"Yes. That's right. Ron. Remember? Your living best friend? Welcome back to earth, Harry!" Ron pulled Harry's shoulder up and propped him up against his pillows, forcing the cup of coffee into his hands.
"What time is it?" Harry said, clicking his mouth because he felt like he had swallowed a whole sack of cotton wool.
"Well, let's just put it this way, Harry – it certainly isn't the morning anymore." Ron giggled, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed.
Harry groaned again, looking around the room blearily and noticing that all of the other beds were empty and made.
"Listen, mate," Ron began. "What did you take last night?"
Harry screwed up his eyes, too much light seemed bad. Taking a sluggish sip from his coffee, he coughed and began to explain. "Seamus gave me something. I don't know why I took it – I must have been mad. It made me very sick." He hiccupped, and grimaced as his stomach made a low gurgling noise.
"Too right! Not to mention you disappeared half the night!" Ron guffawed, eyeing Harry up and down in mock distaste.
Harry nervously licked his lips and took another sip from his coffee. "I was sick. I… I went to my bed." But Harry knew what had happened last night. He knew what had happened with Malfoy… he couldn't stop thinking about it as he sat there, one of his hands underneath the covers where he idly thumbed at Draco's silver token of affection. Or token of vows. Whatever he had called it.
Ron lifted an eyebrow apprehensively and let out a snort of laughter. "If you say so, Harry." He grinned, patting Harry on the back and standing up. Harry felt his stomach gurgle again, and he sucked dryly at the insides of his cheeks.
"God Harry, you look bloody green, mate." Ron laughed, as he began to walk out of the room. "You'll be thankful it's Sunday. I'll leave you to it – just try not to throw up on my side of the wall, will you?" Ron smirked as he closed the door behind him.
Harry lazily finished the coffee, thankful for it's slightly comforting warmth in the pit of his stomach. The haziness in his head faded a little, and he had just managed to doze of again when a loud clatter at the window startled him quite suddenly.
Jumping and rolling his eyes as he saw Hedwig pop her head into the window, Harry sighed and slowly stumbled his way out of bed towards her.
"Hiya girl." He croaked happily, rubbing at his eyes.
Hedwig hooted gently and poked out her leg to reveal a small folded up piece of parchment attached.
"Who's this from, Hedwig?" Harry asked, yawning as he took the piece of paper, starting to unfold it. Blinking and trying to gain a decent focus, he held it to the window and began to read.
Harry,
My heart is bleeding and it needs repairing. Lets finish what we started. Meet me in the A.T. at dusk. Alone. My soul will be waiting.
Forever yours,
Draco.
Harry screwed up his nose and read again. *How annoyingly poetic.* He thought as he tossed the note onto the bed and scrambled inside the covers. For the first time in the day, he felt himself grinning as he buried his face into the pillow, giggling like a girl.
~~~*~~~
"Hey Weasley! Is that your dad in the papers again?" A shrill voice carried from the other side of the corridor. Ron rolled his eyes and turned around.
"It's the weekend Zabini, haven't you got anything better to do? Like take a bath or something?" Ron spat, coming face to face with the dark haired Slytherin, who merely grunted.
"That's rich coming from somebody who bathes in a trough!" He replied, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Ron felt his face grow very red and he clenched his fists at his sides.
"Ron, don't… just leave it…" Hermione pleaded as she clutched at his arm, glaring back at Blaise. "He's not worth it."
Hermione and Ron had originally set off to do some homework at the library but had found themselves in a tangled meeting with a group of seventh year Slytherins on their way to the dungeons.
"Oh, what's the matter, Weasley?" Blaise taunted, sneering wildly. "You have to get a mudblood to keep you out of trouble? How touching!"
The Slytherins all shrieked with laughter at this, Pansy Parkinson being the loudest, who was standing by Blaise's side.
Ron flared his nostrils and turned to Hermione looking at her desperately. Her lips were very tightly pursed, her cheeks ablaze.
In the past couple of years Blaise Zabini had done the absolute unthinkable – he had overtaken Draco Malfoy in obnoxiousness. Some people said it was because he was jealous of his friend, others just believed that Blaise was indeed, a far more horrible person than the renowned Ice Prince of Slytherin. But even Ron, Hermione and Harry had noticed that Draco was far more subdued nowadays, sticking to his study instead of his sneer, and the Kingdom had been gratefully passed onto Zabini.
"I think he's going to cry!!" Blaise shrieked to the crowd, who were in hysterics. "Ohhh, spare me, Weasley!" He cried, stepping in closer.
Ron had had enough. He had managed to keep his hands of off Blaise for 24 hours, but now… now he was mad. He was at boiling point. Screaming and running towards the dark haired Slytherin, Ron grabbed Blaise by the collar and launched him onto the stone flooring. In a matter of seconds, fists were flying in the air, claws were out, and a large crowd had formed around them.
Nobody had noticed that a determined figure was forcing their way through the large circle, screaming for them to stop and almost being dragged into the fight himself.
"STOP!!!" He yelled, causing the entire crowd to hush with immediate silence, and Ron and Blaise to look up from their position on the floor.
A very ill looking Harry stood over the pair of them, glasses askew, hair in a right state.
Ron was lying on his back, Blaise on top of him with a bloody fist raised, his mouth contorted into a hateful snarl. "And what do you want, Potter?" He spat, dropping his fist and standing up, deliberately kicking Ron on the way, who too had stood up.
"Stop fighting!" Harry yelled again. "I'm sick of seeing Ron with a black eye, or a cut lip! There hasn't been a day gone by where he hasn't had any type of injury caused by you!" He cried desperately, ignoring the churning in his stomach, the light headed nausea creeping into his vision.
"He asked for it, Potter. Not stay out of other people's business." Blaise snapped, stepping towards Harry. The crowd gasped.
"But it is my business, Zabini! Ron's my best friend!" Harry looked over at Ron, who stared back at him blankly.
"Why are you here, Harry?" Ron asked quite suddenly.
Harry blinked and looked back at his friend. "I was on my way to the hospital wing to pick up some potion for my headache." He answered back with a frown.
"Then I think you'd better be on your way." Ron said blankly.
Harry let out a gasp of breath and snorted. "What?" He asked, completely baffled by his best friend's behaviour.
"I started this, Harry. Just get to the hospital wing." Ron answered back quite evenly. Harry looked over at Blaise who was grinning wildly, and noticed that one of his front teeth were missing, making him look more mad than ever.
"I can't!" Harry retorted. "I can't let you, Ron!"
Blaise stepped in close to Harry, their noses inches apart. "You heard Weasel, Potter. Be on your merry way, now."
Harry blinked away the sickness creeping inside his head and managed a snarl. "You leave my best friend alone, you dirty, no good Slytherin!" He rasped, taking a step forward and causing Blaise to stumble back ever so slightly.
"Oh, so it's like that then, is it Potter? Jealous are we? Jealous that you got landed in Gryffindor when you know that all you really wanted was to be in Slytherin. All you wanted was to be bad… like us." Blaise giggled madly.
Harry frowned and shook his head vigorously. "If I wanted to be in Slytherin, believe me I would be in Slytherin. But thank Merlin I'm not – if I had to put up with 6 years of you I would have done what Malfoy done – completely disowned the fact that I never knew you." Harry breathed, lifting his chin up defiantly.
Blaise opened his mouth, abashed. Then, screwing up his eyes, he lunged on top of Harry, causing Harry to land with into a crumpled heap on the floor. Immediately, Blaise began kicking Harry in the stomach, swinging his arms at Ron who was trying to stop him.
"You dirty little half-blood! You'll see one day, Harry Potter – when the Dark Lord defeats you… you WILL see the true power of Slytherin!" Blaise screamed.
Harry felt his stomach jolt and churn violently as Blaise connected his boot with his body, feeling the sick threatening to shoot out of his mouth and spray…
Desperately, Harry clung onto the bottom of Blaise's robes and yanked himself onto his knees, causing the crowd to gasp and move back, some of them running away presumably to tell a teacher. Harry crawled towards Blaise madly clawing at his legs. "How dare you talk about the man who killed my parents! HOW DARE YOU, DEATH EATER!" He cried, his voice squeaking and breaking as he screamed.
Just then, Blaise bumped into Ron, who immediately spun round and went flying into the glass statue of Morag The Witch which fell over with a tremendous smash. Blaise had also fallen over, yelping in pain as his palm crunched onto the smaller shards of glass. Then, without thinking, he grabbed a long slice of broken statue and hurled it at Ron who was still lying in a heap on the floor.
There was a desperate scream from the crowd, more screams, whimpers, gasps and excited murmurs. Harry got to his feet and scanned the ground frantically. Blaise was pushing past a small group of huddled girls, running away from the scene altogether.
Harry felt his breath quicken as he advanced on his friend, squinting in pain as his stomach threatened to convulse.
"Ron?" He croaked, lifting his friend up by the shoulders. Ron looked up at Harry, his face was covered in sweat, his arm was wrapped tight around his waist. His bottom lip quivered tremendously.
"Ron what's wrong?" Harry whispered, his eyes searching Ron's face for a reaction.
Ron slowly looked down at his arm, shivered and lifted it away from his waist, lifting up his white shirt at the same time.
Nothing could have prepared Harry for what he saw. He felt his stomach leap out of his chest and into his mouth, beating rapidly and sorely. His eyes bugged out their sockets, forcing red hot tears to convulse down his cheeks. "Ron…" He breathed, as Ron looked back up at him, smiling weakly.
A large yawning gash marred Ron's left side, pouring with endless amounts of arterial blood. Harry was faintly aware of Hermione running over to them, her hysterical cries, and then the thud of her body landing on the floor with a faint.
Harry's nostrils flared about wildly as he looked at his best friend, his white, sweaty face – looking blankly back at him.
"I'll be OK, Harry." Ron choked, knowing himself that he would not.
Harry felt his body shake violently as Ron slumped onto him, causing them both to land with a nasty thud on the ground. "Ron…" Was all he could breathe, as his best friend lay shivering in his arms. Then with one final breath, Ron looked Harry straight in the eyes and murmured very quietly, "Is this all really worth it, Harry?"
Harry choked. He wailed into the silent crowd, tears streaking down his face as he held his dead best friend in his arms.
~~~*~~~
