I've never really written anything like this before. Let's just say I was in a very depressed mood this weekend, and this is what came out. This actually kind of actually scares me and normally I delete sad fics like this, so you'll probably never get anything like this out of me again...and because I think I pretty much suck at writing serious stuff.

WARNINGS: Character Death, M/M slash.

YE BE WARNED: Cliches and sadness ahead. :'(

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The war was almost over. In fact, in Ron's mind, it was already over. They were just rounding up the last of the enemy; it was only a short amount of time before the world would be safe.

Well that was all well and good, but no one wanted to be the last to die in a war.

And Ron thought very much that this person could be Draco Malfoy.

The battle had broken out in Hogsmeade; it was a last attack by the remainder of Voldemort's followers. They had attacked a small group of Aurors who were guarding the village. In Ron's mind there should have been more placed there from the start; they were getting too comfortable with almost-winning, counting their eggs before they hatched and all that.

The alert had been sounded in a post nearby, at which Ron had happened to be stationed. He apparated immediately, and fell on the edge of the hubbub just in time to see an Auror named Shaw fall. He was about to get the murderer when out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar head of blonde enter the fray.

He recognized the man immediately. Draco Malfoy had grown taller and his clothes looked a bit more frayed and dirty since they had last seen each other, but Ron knew that face. He was actually surprised to see Malfoy; for all the Order knew, their Syltherin classmate had dropped off the face of the earth after the fight in sixth year, and it was generally assumed Voldemort had murdered him for failing to kill Dumbledore.

But there he was in Hogsmeade, flinging curses left and right like a true Death Eater.

Ron shook himself out of his shock and followed Malfoy through the crowd. After awhile it was clear the blonde was making a beeline for something. Ron occasionally lost sight of him as he had to fend off attacks and help his fellow Aurors, but the man was always headed in the same direction.

By the time they reached the edge of the fight, it was nearly over. Nevertheless, Ron continued to follow Draco as he wove through the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade. As much as Ron wanted desperately to confront Draco, he wanted to know where he was going even more.

Finally Draco pulled open a door to a boarded up shop and went inside. Ron waited a moment before pulling the door open himself.

The first thing he saw was Draco, standing a few feet inside the empty room, facing him. His expression was calm, and he was holding up his hands in surrender. A few small dusty rays of light let in through the dirty windows played across his face, causing a creepy yet calm atmosphere.

"I realize what you have to do, Weasley. But there is something I would like before I die," Ron was thrown for a moment; he had never heard Draco talk like this. In such a soft, gentle, accepting tone.

"I know that no matter how much I don't want to die, it is inevitable and I must accept it." Draco noticed Ron's apprehension, and seemed almost offended at Ron's distrust, "You don't have to worry about me attacking you, because I realize it would be pointless. There is only one thing I want, if you are willing to give it,"

Ron was taken aback. This Malfoy was, well, something he had never seen before, and so he agreed, "Er, yeah. Anything you want,"

Draco closed his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them tears were struggling to fall. He stepped closer to Ron and said, "I have always lived a life that has denied me many things, Weasley. As much as you were jealous of my wealth and power, I was equally jealous of your love and happiness. You may never know riches or fame, but I can tell you that the only life worth living is one with warmth. Material goods that seem extraordinary and wonderful are only so on the outside; in reality they are empty, emotionless objects. But friends, they will always be there to comfort you, make you happy,"

"Are you asking me to be your friend, Malfoy? It might be a bit hard," Ron snapped.

A tear fell, and Ron instantly regretted his harsh words. Bugger, why was Malfoy crying? It made things so much worse.

"No, Weasley, I don't want your friendship." Draco laughed lightly, "You're right, it's too late for that." Draco took a step closer, "I have never known what it's like to love someone so much that you would die for them. Love them so much that if they jumped off a bridge to their death that you would follow them. I have never known that intoxicating feeling you get when you realize that the person you so desire feels the same desire for you. I realize that this is not possible for you to give me in so short a time, so I'll have to settle for something less. Weasley, I want to kiss you,"

Ron took a step back, "What? Are you mad?"

Draco pulled away, "Of course, how silly. Just…kill me then. Please,"

Ron's throat ached as he looked at how weak Malfoy was, how he was reduced to this frail thing that gave up so easily.

"Alright,"

Malfoy looked down and let another tear fall. He closed his eyes, ready to die.

So Ron closed the remaining space between then and pressed his mouth gently against Malfoy's.

It was odd, and uncomfortable, and tasted like Malfoy's salty tears, which had fallen freely after Draco realized he was getting his last wish. Ron realized he would never quite feel another kiss like this. Would never again feel Malfoy's cold fingers grasp his shirt desperately, clutching to hold on. Never again would he smooth his hands through the silky hair, trying to comfort the scared boy he was kissing. Ron wasn't sure what he was feeling as he kissed Malfoy, but it felt amazing. He definitely didn't think this was supposed to feel so right, so perfect. As if it was meant to be. Ron knew he was supposed to be a man and not have such girly cliches running through his head, but he was also apparently less that straight and now kissing the man whom he had originally thought was his enemy.

Their lips parted, and Ron feared it's ending, not wanting to go back to the reality where he was obligated to murder this person who made him feel so exhilarated. Where he would have to say goodbye forever to this man who made him feel so whole.

"Doesn't count," he murmured against Draco's mouth, struggling to find an excuse to gain a few moments longer in this perfect alternate universe.

"Pardon?" Draco said, thoroughly confused.

Ron blushed and repeated, "It doesn't count. I kissed you, but you wanted to kiss me," he explained, hoping that Draco wouldn't smirk and laugh.

Draco smiled softly, "I suppose you're right,"

And Ron closed his eyes, ready to continue. He felt Draco cup his cheeks gently and leaned into the touch. When finally Draco pressed his mouth against Ron's, he let out a small sigh of relief. It was entirely unlike the previous kiss. It was soft and bittersweet. Instead of desperation there was gentleness and acceptance. Their mouths moved together slowly and sensually, but the flavor of the kiss was sad and full of regrets. The first kiss had been a genuine first kiss, awkward and odd in nature. But this kiss was a true one, filled with hopes and feelings.

Ron tasted salt again and realized this time the tears came from his own eyes. He wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him closer, hoping that maybe if he held him close enough, maybe they would never have to part again, maybe they would stay like this forever.

He didn't know what exactly was happening to him. Or why this incredible sea change had to come about only moments before he was set to murder the man who caused it. A part of him feared even thinking about it, knowing that as each perfect second passed, they grew closer to that inevitable moment where they would be forever separated.

Ron knew that the Draco he knew in school was long gone, and the man he was now holding so intimately was not the cruel Draco of his past. But this Draco, this gentle, loving, tender Draco would have to receive the punishment for the previous Draco's crimes.

Much too soon he felt the other man pull away. Ron let out a small groan of disappointment and tried to recapture Draco's mouth, but he only stepped farther back and whispered, "If we don't stop now, Ron, it will only be more difficult later on,"

Ron didn't understand at first, but then he saw the resolved expression on Draco's face and his heart stopped beating for a moment in realization, "No. No no no no no! I'm not going to kill you, I can't!"

Draco took another few steps back, and Ron could barely hear him whisper, "I know," Draco raised his wand to his temple.

Ron started, "Draco, what're you–"

"Doing what's necessary, Ron. I'm sorry. We both know if you don't someone else will,"

Ron rushed forward to stop him, but before he could he heard Draco yell those two words.

Avada Kedavra!

The voice that came out shocked Ron at first. It was harsh and hateful, something that was far from the Draco he had been kissing a few moments ago. It was the voice that possessed everyone who casted that cruel curse. To effectively cast the killing curse it had to be done with pure hatred, and Ron was surprised that Draco had been able to do it.

He reached for Draco as he fell.

"Draco!"

He shook the body hopelessly, knowing that it was over. The tears that had just stopped falling now started again and splattered like rain onto Draco's jaw.

Ron held Draco's lifeless form closer and closed Draco's eyelids gently.

He pressed a final kiss to the cold lips and whispered, "Thank you,"

Ron fell to the dirty ground and a small cloud of dust that he disturbed arose around them and then settled back down again. He wasn't quite sure what he was thanking Draco for, but somehow he felt it needed to be said. Maybe it was for the brief moment when they kissed that he had felt something so genuine it hurt. Maybe it was for the soft touches Draco had placed along the side of Ron's face as they kissed the second time. Ron hoped it wasn't for Draco doing what Ron was supposed to, but that could have been it as well.

The brief moment they shared was not nearly enough to last Ron a lifetime, but he would have to live with the fact that even though the war was almost over, it was going to be ripping apart lives long after it was finished, and his was just going to be more torn that originally expected.

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Horribly sad and cliched, I know. It's definitely not my style at all, but I thought you all should know why I delete most of my writing that comes out like this. (When I say 'delete' I mean put in the floppy labeled 'Really crappy depressing stuff that I should delete but feel terrible actually doing so')

Reviewing is not always necessary, but it can be nice to know that people take the time.