No matter how happy and exciting things start out, everything dies. The newborn baby can die in its mother. Or it can live eighty years of pain, watching everything around it erode and decay and then die. We come in to this world alone. We die alone. Everyone knows that. But none truly admit it. The big question is; how does it end? Does it end in frozen flames the burn our bones to ashes? Or does death gnaw at us, whispering words of comfort until we embrace its kiss? I asked Nearly Headless Nick today. He said he didn't remember. I tried asking the Gray Lady. She just let out a ghostly tear and turned away. I think I'll try asking Dra-
Harry stopped writing as a chill went over his spine and he sensed a ghost hand on his shoulder.
"Not everything dies, Harry." Said the figure behind him, who was even paler in death than he was in life.
"You did." He replied not turning round. He knew who stood behind him and a single tear threatened to slip from his left eye.
"But I'm still with you. Death isn't the end, Harry."
"But I can't touch you, Draco!" Harry suddenly shouted as all the anger he had been bottling up burst through. "You are here but I can't put my arms around you and when I look at you I can see right through you!"
"I know, Harry. I-"
"No! No you don't fucking know. Every night I am scared to go to sleep because when I do I know I will see you being murdered again and again. I could have stopped him! If I had been a second quicker then I-"
"No, Harry, there was nothing you could do. My father was going to kill me. It was planned by forces far greater than us and there is nothing we can do about it."
"Is that what you think?" The venom was thick in Harry's voice. Didn't Draco care? "So how did it end Malfoy? Did you embrace death? Or did your bones catch fire? Tell me! How did it end?!" Harry screamed the last sentence.
"It ended with a whisper and a flash of green light. My bones felt as if they were in flames and I gladly welcomed death to put out the fires. Now that I think about it, it was pretty much like your eyes. They held a flame in them 'til you gave up."
"I gave up when you died" whispered Harry, stunned by what Draco had said.
"No Potter, You gave up when I was all you had left" With that Draco turned and walked through the wall of the dungeons that Harry seemed to have taken over since his lover's death.
"Wait Draco-" Harry started to say but stopped when he realised Draco was all ready gone.
He fell to his knees next to Draco's old bed and sobbed uncontrollably until exhaustion and sleep consumed him.
Harry wasn't sure of the time when he awoke. He wasn't sure of anything. Except the throbbing in his head. It hadn't been this bad since Voldemort was around, only it wasn't his scar that was hurting. It was his whole head. It was as if his skull was on fire.
He tried to stand up but he collapsed straight back down to his knees. He summoned the pain relief potion he kept in Draco's old desk.
The bottle of green liquid flew into his hand and, with shaking hands; Harry prized the cork out the bottle, spilling some to the floor in his haste.
The potion was halfway down his throat when he realised he should have diluted it with water. He didn't really care though. Anything was better than the flames.
The pain eased only to be replaced by an even stronger pain. One that set all of his bones alight and melted his skin.
He felt a brush of cold air and welcomed Death with open arms and smiled thinking that it was funny that death would be so easy to accomplish.