Disclaimer: not mine, bet you're all so surprised to learn that *snorts*
Warnings: um, character death, but that's about it
Pairings: none

AN: Again, another snippet that's been loitering on my HD for a while.

***

"Merlin damn it, I have had ENOUGH! You've been an Auror for five years now, and every year I have regretted more and more the fact that we were forced to waive the examination so that we had enough fighters for the final battle. In five years - LONGER if accounts of your schooling are to believed - you have yet to learn the advantage of keeping a cool head. It's when you pull little stunts like the one that you're now recovering from that people DIE. GOOD people, who might have stood a chance if not for your sheer, bullheaded, RECKLESSNESS. I have had ENOUGH Ronald Weasley - as soon as you're discharged by the Healers you are DISMISSED. Out of my Auror Corps. Gone. Whoever wins your office in the promotion raffle will box up your things and return them to you. I don't want to hear you've even been in the building."

The howler, which most of the hospital had probably been able to hear, burst into flames as furious as its contents had been. Ron stared at the flickering light from his unbandaged eye. Shacklebolt rarely lost it, but when he did... A lone tear slipped down his cheek, unnoticed through the fresh, emotional pain shredding his life into tiny pieces. What else was he going to do? The final battle had disrupted the NEWTs for their yeargroup, but in reparation they had given them all a certificate of explanation, which effectively was a certificate to say, had they actually taken the exams, how many and which NEWTs they had been likely to get. The concession had, to say the least, surprised everyone.

But as with any political manouevre, there were caveats and sub-clauses in abundence. One of them had just tripped him up. In order to be allowed to keep the certificate of explanation you had to serve at least three years in the same profession, and then get your supervisor to sign off on it...unless you were an Auror. An Auror had to serve twice that. He, as Shacklebolt had mentioned in passing, had only served five of those years. Five years and ten months...Merlin... He'd only needed two more months... Two...

Even though such a narrow miss hurt, it still hadn't been the sharpest cutting of Kingsley's words. No, they were echoing and re-echoing around his head, accompanied by the scream that would only get louder over the next twenty-four hours. A scream, too faint to make out the words - yet - that will come tonight in his dreams, his nightmares. But he has heard them often enough to know the words by heart.

'NOOOOOOOOoooooooooo...'

A cry of denial trailing off into nothing, absorbed by a sickly green light too horrible to countenance, and yet too beautiful in its deadliness to find words that could do it justice.

Everything trailing off into nothing, the sounds of battle sucked away by the indrawn breath of the very universe itself - or so it felt.

It was his fault, that death. All his fault, with his bullheaded recklessness. Well, he knew the price now. Even if the rest of the world felt this a happier outcome than they had expected, he could never have a happy life again. Not knowing what he'd done.

Not knowing that other people knew.

The world could have been greater, more knowledgable.

But that wasn't ever going to happen. Not now. Because tomorrow, six years ago to the day, he, Ronald Weasley, had been responsible for the death of Harry Potter.

***

AN: first off, no, this is a ONE-SHOT and I am not writing any more to it, so don't ask. *sics Voldemort on discontented readers* Secondly, no, I don't know where Hermione is or if she's alive, you can make up your own minds on that score. Finally, no, I don't know the exact details of why Ron is responsible for Harry's death - I would assume that Harry gets between Ron and the Avada meant for him, but I don't know for certain.
With those out of the way, reviews are welcome ;)