Burrow, Erised, DA
The burrow wasn't the same without him.
It was cold and dark.
Dull and lonely.
Boring and quite.
None of which should ever be used to describe the wacky place and yet that was all that could be said about it. Two of him could be seen in the mirror and yet only one sat in front of it.
The burrow wasn't the same without him.
It wasn't loud.
It's wasn't fun.
It wasn't home.
In the mirror the second figure shifted leaning against the first their feet, covered in obnoxiously red fluffy socks, seemed to almost touch the glass that trapped them inside.
If only he could reach through, if only he could talk again.
Laugh again.
Be alive again.
Dumbledore's army fought valiantly and came out triumphant. So why did it feel like such a loss?
Too many places weren't the same.
Too many lived only in the mirror now.
Droplets crashed to the floor as the air filled with the sounds of gasping sobs. Going back to the burrow wasn't an option anymore.
It wasn't the same without him.