*FIC: Cling*
Cling
by S_Star
Disclaimer: Still not mine...
Rating: PG-13
Pairings (in order of appearance): Lily/Narcissa, Hermione/Colin, Ron/Millicent, Draco/Bill, Snape/Dumbledore, McGonagall/Molly, Fawkes/Hedwig, Padfoot/Fang, Sirius/Hagrid, (Sirius/Remus), Remus/Hagrid, Ginny/Neville, Luna/Cho, Charlie/Oliver
Summary: Because in times of war, everyone needs someone to hold on to.
AN: For Rare Pair Month on the_pimp_cane. I joined too late to get the earlier challenge pairings done on time, but I figured I’d write them anyway: I mean, points are points, right...? ^_^ (speaking of, how many do I get for this sucker?)
Italics are non-challenged pairs, normal text are challenged, the ones in bold are on time, and the ones in brackets aren't rare.
Cling
It’s strange to look around me now. The Manor’s even emptier than before with my husband gone, and with Draco still at school, there’s nothing here to keep my memories at bay.
For me, the conflict truly began when I left school and married Lucius. I hear I was a beautiful bride, but more beautiful to me was the woman sitting near the back, smiling quietly under a veil of auburn hair. She sniffed into a tissue and the man beside her wrapped an arm round her shoulders and whispered something. I nodded coolly as I walked past, and my heart ached for the best friend I never had; the girl who should have been my bridesmaid at least, and maybe so much more.
The one who understood me; who offered friendship when no one else had, was left to stand there holding my bouquet as my husband and I drove off in a carriage pulled by Hogwarts Thestrals.
When she died, I didn’t break down, but congratulated everyone on two successful kills; and now all I can do is sit here and pray to her ghost for forgiveness, for love.
I decorate my rooms with white flowers, now: lilies are meant for mourning.
~
Lilies are meant for mourning, so I place one on Harry’s grave each week. In life, he was adored by many, but now only his friends remember him.
I hate to admit that I was wrong, but I was certain that his resting place would become a shrine, or maybe a tourist attraction. I didn’t think it would be a plain marble headstone with his name, dates, and the words ‘The Boy Who Lived’ engraved on it in a twisted display of so-called humour. I didn’t think that a lily a week would be the only flower placed on the ground before his name, but then again, I was his best friend.
Ron also visits, always bringing Millicent with him for a shoulder to cry on. He can’t accept that Harry’s gone and that his family’s fallen apart, and without his girlfriend, however Slytherin she may have been, he would have broken down months ago.
‘Um, ‘Mione? We have to go now; we’re late for dinner.’
I turn and see Colin standing behind me. Even after so long, it takes me a moment to adjust to the fact that he no longer carries his camera around with him.
His old obsession with Harry was a warped kind of love, and he understands when I cry myself to sleep some nights because he’s felt the same as me before.
~
He’s felt the same as me before, I know it. He’s lost hope; he’s felt wretched and empty. He’s mourned his father and missed his mother. His hair’s gone frizzy and his mascara’s run...he’s only human, after all, however superior he may be.
I guess that’s why I care about him, though; his arrogance. He can tell me so assuredly what’s going to happen, and even though he’s by no means an innocent, the hope in his eyes melts me like a baby’s smile.
Of course, he’s usually an absolute bastard to everyone, including me, even after everything, and I find myself wondering whether it’s really wise to let myself kiss him blind to shut him up.
He’s young and stupid and beautiful and a Malfoy, and it’s probably not healthy that taking him under my wing at Dumbledore’s request has turned into whatever this is.
But, of course, it has, and now I have to deal with waiting an hour for the bathroom to be free, constant borrowing of my favourite dragon hide boots, and blond hairs clogging up the sink.
In the end, though, when I imagine what he could have become, I know it's worth it.
~
I know it was worth it, everything he did. He was one of the most valuable members of our side, and will undoubtedly be remembered by many in the years to come for protecting Harry Potter until the end.
His loyalty to our cause was astounding, and through everything he managed to survive...for me. It was I who first approached him with the idea of being a spy for the Order, and I am the one he turned to for guidance throughout the war.
I don't know how I appeared in his cold, dark eyes: a father figure, a benefactor, or just a doer of good deeds, but I know that I miss him now that he's gone. He's taken with him his sarcastic remarks and constant pessimism, his unforgiving and unforgiven nature, and I still find it strange how few Gryffindors are seen crying these days.
A knock on my door heralds the entrance of Minerva McGonagall and Molly Weasley, united in grieving for those they love, and I greet them and watch patiently as Molly tries to speak without sobbing.
I offer her a sherbet lemon as Minerva puts a caring hand on her shoulder and agrees to talk on her behalf.
'Albus, Molly and I would like to propose that a memorial be built in...' Her voice cracks slightly and Molly squeezes her hand. '...in honour of all those who were...taken during the war.'
I nod and ask them to confirm the details with the appropriate Ministry officials, and I refuse to let myself react until the door has once again closed behind them.
I absently pet Fawkes, who's settled in the corner with Harry's old owl, Hedwig - who knew that such love would be found in the midst of war? - and turn to the window, finally allowing a smile to grace my features and a tear to slip down my cheek.
You and so many others, Severus: gone but not forgotten.
~
'Gone but not forgotten,' Remus Lupin murmurs with a bitter laugh, taking a sip of tea, and I nod and come to sit opposite.
'Aye,' I reply softly. 'He was a good man, your Sirius.'
'Is it wrong to still miss him?' he asks.
'Now, now, none a'that,' I say quickly. 'I still miss 'im too, 'n' so does Fang.' I look over at where Fang's lying on his bed looking sad. He always used to perk up when Sirius Black was around, and young Sirius always used to like to go 'hunting' with him in dog form (although I'm not sure I'm meant to know that he was an Animagus) before coming back here for a cup of tea or a cake.
He would visit when Remus was in the Hospital Wing or when he and James Potter were fighting, and just talk to me. He was like Harry used to be.
'I loved him for so long...' Remus confesses. 'I never told him.'
I never know what to do in situations like this, so I just nod quietly and try to think of something to say. 'We all loved 'im, yeh know,' I begin, ''n' I'm sure that wherever he is now, he knows that.'
Remus tries to smile. 'I know, but it's...different with me. Complicated.'
For the first time in years, I see Remus Lupin as the small, shy boy that Sirius brought to tea a couple of times who used to sit and stare at the tablecloth, too nervous to speak.
I reach over to refill his cup and pat his hand as I pour the tea. 'I understand,' is all I can say, and he whispers his thanks.
There's nothing anyone can do to make this better; and I know that everyone suffers the same.
~
Everyone suffers the same from this. It's a tragedy, and the sheer number of deaths casts a chill over me, but when you think about it, the casualties were inevitable.
There is no way a war can take place without at least one person being killed, as much as I hate to think it, although I do wish some people had been spared.
Snape hated me ever since I ruined an important potion because it was meant to be a colour I didn't like, but he was still a key player. Ginny's boyfriend Neville, who took a curse meant for her, proving his Gryffindor nature to the very last. Neville's friends Dean, Seamus and Lavender.
Harry Potter.
He won the war for us, collapsed, and never stood up again. I'm one of the only people who visits his grave, but Hermione puts a lily on there every week for him and his parents. I hate that he's gone, but with them he'll be happy.
'You done?' Cho Chang's voice echoes from behind me and I jump.
'Nearly,' I call back, glancing over the parchment in front of me: a list of everyone who died through the course of the war. It's going to be used for a monument for them, so that no one ever forgets.
'Are you okay?' she asks, suddenly beside me.
‘I’m fine!’ I reply too brightly. ‘Here’s the list!’
She glances over it. ‘Cedric’s not on here,’ she says bluntly, adding his name to the top.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter.
‘Don’t worry,’ she forces. ‘He wasn’t exactly important, in the end.’
I stare at her, wondering how a fellow Ravenclaw manages not to see the bigger picture. I prise the quill from her hand before she snaps it, noticing that even now her eyes don’t sparkle and she doesn’t smile as much as she used to.
‘He was,’ I say. ‘He was important to you, and to Harry, and to everyone he knew. It’s better to have...’
‘...Loved and lost, I know.’ She picks up the list and for a second her lips quirk up at the corners before she nods at me and starts to walk away.
I know she understands; she’s not stupid. She’s working on this lest we forget the price and horror of war.
~
The horror of war is clearer here than anywhere else.
From my perch above the new Quidditch goalposts, glinting gold in the cold-shining sunlight, I can see the repairs being made to the castle and grounds. There’s a war memorial being levitated across to a spot by the lake by a group of wizards the size of doxies, the Astronomy Tower is charred, and the North Tower needs to be replaced completely. Charms and wards couldn’t stop anything, but at least there’s a chance to start over.
Suddenly, I feel a gust of air and see a redheaded figure straddling a broom next to me. I know he’s Charlie Weasley; he was a legendary Gryffindor Quidditch player.
‘Hello,’ he says warmly. ‘Oliver Wood, right? You’re teaching flying next year?’
I smile, shocked that he knows me. ‘Yep. You’re coming to teach Care of Magical Creatures, right?’
He nods. ‘Figured I’d be of more use here than anywhere else.’
I don’t reply and we hover in silence, watching as the pieces of our lives get put back together. It’s strange to look around me now.
~fin~
AN: Random, huh? It started out good, but kinda went down the drain.... *blushes*
by S_Star
Disclaimer: Still not mine...
Rating: PG-13
Pairings (in order of appearance): Lily/Narcissa, Hermione/Colin, Ron/Millicent, Draco/Bill, Snape/Dumbledore, McGonagall/Molly, Fawkes/Hedwig, Padfoot/Fang, Sirius/Hagrid, (Sirius/Remus), Remus/Hagrid, Ginny/Neville, Luna/Cho, Charlie/Oliver
Summary: Because in times of war, everyone needs someone to hold on to.
AN: For Rare Pair Month on the_pimp_cane. I joined too late to get the earlier challenge pairings done on time, but I figured I’d write them anyway: I mean, points are points, right...? ^_^ (speaking of, how many do I get for this sucker?)
Italics are non-challenged pairs, normal text are challenged, the ones in bold are on time, and the ones in brackets aren't rare.
Cling
It’s strange to look around me now. The Manor’s even emptier than before with my husband gone, and with Draco still at school, there’s nothing here to keep my memories at bay.
For me, the conflict truly began when I left school and married Lucius. I hear I was a beautiful bride, but more beautiful to me was the woman sitting near the back, smiling quietly under a veil of auburn hair. She sniffed into a tissue and the man beside her wrapped an arm round her shoulders and whispered something. I nodded coolly as I walked past, and my heart ached for the best friend I never had; the girl who should have been my bridesmaid at least, and maybe so much more.
The one who understood me; who offered friendship when no one else had, was left to stand there holding my bouquet as my husband and I drove off in a carriage pulled by Hogwarts Thestrals.
When she died, I didn’t break down, but congratulated everyone on two successful kills; and now all I can do is sit here and pray to her ghost for forgiveness, for love.
I decorate my rooms with white flowers, now: lilies are meant for mourning.
~
Lilies are meant for mourning, so I place one on Harry’s grave each week. In life, he was adored by many, but now only his friends remember him.
I hate to admit that I was wrong, but I was certain that his resting place would become a shrine, or maybe a tourist attraction. I didn’t think it would be a plain marble headstone with his name, dates, and the words ‘The Boy Who Lived’ engraved on it in a twisted display of so-called humour. I didn’t think that a lily a week would be the only flower placed on the ground before his name, but then again, I was his best friend.
Ron also visits, always bringing Millicent with him for a shoulder to cry on. He can’t accept that Harry’s gone and that his family’s fallen apart, and without his girlfriend, however Slytherin she may have been, he would have broken down months ago.
‘Um, ‘Mione? We have to go now; we’re late for dinner.’
I turn and see Colin standing behind me. Even after so long, it takes me a moment to adjust to the fact that he no longer carries his camera around with him.
His old obsession with Harry was a warped kind of love, and he understands when I cry myself to sleep some nights because he’s felt the same as me before.
~
He’s felt the same as me before, I know it. He’s lost hope; he’s felt wretched and empty. He’s mourned his father and missed his mother. His hair’s gone frizzy and his mascara’s run...he’s only human, after all, however superior he may be.
I guess that’s why I care about him, though; his arrogance. He can tell me so assuredly what’s going to happen, and even though he’s by no means an innocent, the hope in his eyes melts me like a baby’s smile.
Of course, he’s usually an absolute bastard to everyone, including me, even after everything, and I find myself wondering whether it’s really wise to let myself kiss him blind to shut him up.
He’s young and stupid and beautiful and a Malfoy, and it’s probably not healthy that taking him under my wing at Dumbledore’s request has turned into whatever this is.
But, of course, it has, and now I have to deal with waiting an hour for the bathroom to be free, constant borrowing of my favourite dragon hide boots, and blond hairs clogging up the sink.
In the end, though, when I imagine what he could have become, I know it's worth it.
~
I know it was worth it, everything he did. He was one of the most valuable members of our side, and will undoubtedly be remembered by many in the years to come for protecting Harry Potter until the end.
His loyalty to our cause was astounding, and through everything he managed to survive...for me. It was I who first approached him with the idea of being a spy for the Order, and I am the one he turned to for guidance throughout the war.
I don't know how I appeared in his cold, dark eyes: a father figure, a benefactor, or just a doer of good deeds, but I know that I miss him now that he's gone. He's taken with him his sarcastic remarks and constant pessimism, his unforgiving and unforgiven nature, and I still find it strange how few Gryffindors are seen crying these days.
A knock on my door heralds the entrance of Minerva McGonagall and Molly Weasley, united in grieving for those they love, and I greet them and watch patiently as Molly tries to speak without sobbing.
I offer her a sherbet lemon as Minerva puts a caring hand on her shoulder and agrees to talk on her behalf.
'Albus, Molly and I would like to propose that a memorial be built in...' Her voice cracks slightly and Molly squeezes her hand. '...in honour of all those who were...taken during the war.'
I nod and ask them to confirm the details with the appropriate Ministry officials, and I refuse to let myself react until the door has once again closed behind them.
I absently pet Fawkes, who's settled in the corner with Harry's old owl, Hedwig - who knew that such love would be found in the midst of war? - and turn to the window, finally allowing a smile to grace my features and a tear to slip down my cheek.
You and so many others, Severus: gone but not forgotten.
~
'Gone but not forgotten,' Remus Lupin murmurs with a bitter laugh, taking a sip of tea, and I nod and come to sit opposite.
'Aye,' I reply softly. 'He was a good man, your Sirius.'
'Is it wrong to still miss him?' he asks.
'Now, now, none a'that,' I say quickly. 'I still miss 'im too, 'n' so does Fang.' I look over at where Fang's lying on his bed looking sad. He always used to perk up when Sirius Black was around, and young Sirius always used to like to go 'hunting' with him in dog form (although I'm not sure I'm meant to know that he was an Animagus) before coming back here for a cup of tea or a cake.
He would visit when Remus was in the Hospital Wing or when he and James Potter were fighting, and just talk to me. He was like Harry used to be.
'I loved him for so long...' Remus confesses. 'I never told him.'
I never know what to do in situations like this, so I just nod quietly and try to think of something to say. 'We all loved 'im, yeh know,' I begin, ''n' I'm sure that wherever he is now, he knows that.'
Remus tries to smile. 'I know, but it's...different with me. Complicated.'
For the first time in years, I see Remus Lupin as the small, shy boy that Sirius brought to tea a couple of times who used to sit and stare at the tablecloth, too nervous to speak.
I reach over to refill his cup and pat his hand as I pour the tea. 'I understand,' is all I can say, and he whispers his thanks.
There's nothing anyone can do to make this better; and I know that everyone suffers the same.
~
Everyone suffers the same from this. It's a tragedy, and the sheer number of deaths casts a chill over me, but when you think about it, the casualties were inevitable.
There is no way a war can take place without at least one person being killed, as much as I hate to think it, although I do wish some people had been spared.
Snape hated me ever since I ruined an important potion because it was meant to be a colour I didn't like, but he was still a key player. Ginny's boyfriend Neville, who took a curse meant for her, proving his Gryffindor nature to the very last. Neville's friends Dean, Seamus and Lavender.
Harry Potter.
He won the war for us, collapsed, and never stood up again. I'm one of the only people who visits his grave, but Hermione puts a lily on there every week for him and his parents. I hate that he's gone, but with them he'll be happy.
'You done?' Cho Chang's voice echoes from behind me and I jump.
'Nearly,' I call back, glancing over the parchment in front of me: a list of everyone who died through the course of the war. It's going to be used for a monument for them, so that no one ever forgets.
'Are you okay?' she asks, suddenly beside me.
‘I’m fine!’ I reply too brightly. ‘Here’s the list!’
She glances over it. ‘Cedric’s not on here,’ she says bluntly, adding his name to the top.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter.
‘Don’t worry,’ she forces. ‘He wasn’t exactly important, in the end.’
I stare at her, wondering how a fellow Ravenclaw manages not to see the bigger picture. I prise the quill from her hand before she snaps it, noticing that even now her eyes don’t sparkle and she doesn’t smile as much as she used to.
‘He was,’ I say. ‘He was important to you, and to Harry, and to everyone he knew. It’s better to have...’
‘...Loved and lost, I know.’ She picks up the list and for a second her lips quirk up at the corners before she nods at me and starts to walk away.
I know she understands; she’s not stupid. She’s working on this lest we forget the price and horror of war.
~
The horror of war is clearer here than anywhere else.
From my perch above the new Quidditch goalposts, glinting gold in the cold-shining sunlight, I can see the repairs being made to the castle and grounds. There’s a war memorial being levitated across to a spot by the lake by a group of wizards the size of doxies, the Astronomy Tower is charred, and the North Tower needs to be replaced completely. Charms and wards couldn’t stop anything, but at least there’s a chance to start over.
Suddenly, I feel a gust of air and see a redheaded figure straddling a broom next to me. I know he’s Charlie Weasley; he was a legendary Gryffindor Quidditch player.
‘Hello,’ he says warmly. ‘Oliver Wood, right? You’re teaching flying next year?’
I smile, shocked that he knows me. ‘Yep. You’re coming to teach Care of Magical Creatures, right?’
He nods. ‘Figured I’d be of more use here than anywhere else.’
I don’t reply and we hover in silence, watching as the pieces of our lives get put back together. It’s strange to look around me now.
~fin~
AN: Random, huh? It started out good, but kinda went down the drain.... *blushes*