Author notes: I…it…stutters crazily OK, I swear I don't just like killing people. Really. I guess this is just how it works out. Please don't kill me. God, this is so ANGSTY. OH GOD I CAN'T DEAL. It's weird how I seem to get more worked up about my own stories than most of the people who read them. But anyway, I'll stop ranting. Enjoy and review PLEASE, this one was REALLY hard to write. Thanks!
So Harry healed Ron's cut wrists without tears, for he had none left to shed. They sought the cemetery in which a memorial to Hermione stood. Although the marble slab bearing her name and Ron's loving epitaph rose gracefully there, there was no actual grave, for there had been no body found after her death that they could bury.
Draco and Harry bought a headstone of the same marble as Hermione's marker and had chiseled upon it the words:
Ronald Weasley
Loving son, brother and husband
May you again find happiness with her
Harry had written it, and it had brought tears to Draco's eyes. They buried Ron beneath it, beside Hermione's monument, and stood for a moment before the two graves with their arms tight around each other. Their eyes were dry. The time for tears was past.
When Ron's funeral was over, they went to London and rented out a grubby flat in a dirty neighborhood. They sat at the small kitchen table late into the night, not talking much but holding hands across it, mutely communicating their sorrows.
They spent a week in London, and then moved into Harry's old apartment in Sussex. He had not lived there for four years, and it had obviously been since looted and trashed by Death Eaters and would-be burglars and criminals. Having walked nearly 10 blocks to get here—in his present state, Harry wasn't prone to remember trivial matters like the location of an old and forgotten residence—they sank together on the creaking sofa, promptly leaping up when it sank onto the floor, one leg broken off. They mended it and curled up together, quiet and thoughtful and sad.
After two days in Sussex they both noticed that things were not the same. They were going off food, talking less, snuggling closer at night in bed. And when they looked at each other, they saw nothing in their eyes—the deadened, empty look that they knew Azkaban gave its prisoners.
"Harry," murmured Draco softly one night as he lay with his arms around Harry, pressed tightly against his chest.
"Mmm?"
"I…I miss them, Harry."
"Me, too. I mean…well, who do you miss?"
"My parents."
"Ron and Hermione. And Ginny and Fred and Bill and Fleur and Tonks and Percy and Ron's mum and dad. And your parents. And…and my parents. Everybody."
"Yeah."
"And Si…Sirius…" Harry's voice got very quiet, cracking slightly.
"Yeah." Draco felt his sadness and reached up to stroke his cheek.
"What do you reckon?" asked Harry, letting his lips press gently against Draco's hand.
"I reckon…this is no life."
"Yeah."
"You think…"
"Maybe."
"I'd rather…anything…anything than this."
"I hurt all over, Harry," said Draco, suddenly speaking in a literally tortured whisper.
"From when the Death Eaters…"
"Yeah."
"I hurt because you hurt."
"I…oh, Harry…but…"
"You said it. This is no life to live. Or not live. We're not living."
"I know."
"There's nothing any more, it seems. Everything…just…just dead."
"Yeah. I feel…like…like I'm hollow. A shell."
"A Dementor's Kiss?"
"I suppose."
"Yeah."
There was a very, very loud silence.
"I…I want to die, Draco."
"I want to die with you, Harry."
"I…yeah."
"…I love you."
"I love you."
And they both knew that a decision had been reached, and there would be no turning back. They held each other tighter. It was dark and quiet, and they were just waiting for the morning, waiting for the light and the fog and the time they could finally end it all.
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Six hours later, they were holding hands and standing at the edge of a cliff in a faraway place. Neither was scared of what they were going to do. Neither mourned or feared pain. They were both tired, so tired, and they couldn't any more, they just couldn't. It was time to end. Just to end, to sleep dreamlessly, peacefully, together where Ron and Hermione were waiting.
They had eternity to love each other.
And so they kissed, knowing it would not be their last, and stepped off the edge.
For a moment they flew.
And then they were swallowed by the infinity and lost forever to the world. And everybody they loved was waiting with smiles and open arms.
Author notes: Wait, wait! There's an epilogue. Did anybody catch the Windfallen reference in there? …one of my favorite angst fics (by Cinnamon, on Schnoogle). And again, I promise I'm not just a sadistic killer. I mean, some people are still alive…counts three people are still alive. Heh heh.