Angels don't die.
Title: Angels don't die.
Fandom: Harry Potter.
Disclaimer: Owned by JK Rowling. DUH!
Pairing: Ron/Luna. (OTP!)
Warning: Character-death. Angst.
The wind was blowing in my face. Soft and gentle, it cooled my cheeks and ruffled my hair. It was a grey day. Clouds were covering the skies, not letting a single ray of light slip past. I continued walking, solemnly clad in a dark suit, holding a bouquet of flowers in my right hand. They were daisies, her favorite kind. I had decided not to come to the funeral. As it was, I couldn’t bare to be near other people. Especially not my dear two friends who had found happiness in each other’s arms. It made me insanely jealous. Not because I wanted her, though I once thought I did, but because they had what I once had and now had lost forever.
They didn’t question my decision, and had simply let me be. Every one did that now. I didn’t think they understood me or how I felt, but perhaps they understood that they couldn’t understand. That no one can fully understand what it means to find love and then so suddenly have it ripped away from you, forever lost and never fulfilled. I have never been the brooding type, when I felt something, I voiced that feeling. It is simply the way I am, as fiery as the color of my hair. She had been as mysterious and as calm as her name. I remembered when I first realised how I felt about her. She had been talking about one of those fantasy creatures that didn’t really exist, and I had turned to her and said:
“How can you possibly believe that rubbish? There’s not a single proof and you know that!”
She had simply turned around to look at me, her dirty blonde hair thrown over her shoulders.
“Because I want to believe in it.”
I could remember feeling myself blush, but I couldn’t remember the reason for it. It might have been because she looked unusually cute. I quickly composed myself though.
“But why do you keep telling me about this stuff?”
“Because you listen to me.”
“What?” I had asked, surprised at her response.
“All of these times when you could have gone away, pretending you had something else to do, you stayed with me and listened to my stories. You have never believed in any of them, but at least you have stayed and listened to them. So I go to you, since I know you’d never go away from me.”
As much as I had wanted to deny it, I realised that I couldn’t. Because it was the truth, just as simple as that.
When I realised what I had been doing, I started to wonder why I was doing it. Why did I listen to her all of the time? As difficult as it was for my mind to reach a conclusion, the answer suddenly stared in my face. Because I loved her. Because I wanted to be near her, and listen to her voice. Because she made me into something more. Because she made me whole. Some time after that, I managed to get the guts to tell her how I felt. But just as I was trying to get the words out, failing miserably at that, she put her hand on my shoulder and said:
“I know.”
And then she kissed me, and I kissed her back. From that moment on we were inseperable. Only classes could pull us away from each other. She made me happier than anyone had ever done.
I looked up at the clouds, hoping that the rain could wait for a while as I made my way through the heather field. Then I looked ahead through the field and saw an old oak tree. She had written in her will of testimancy to be buried by that oak tree. I remember how uneasy that had made me.
“Why do we need to write these things?” I asked her then. “We’re not married yet, we can do that when we get there.”
“And what if we never get there? What if you or I die in the war? He-who-must-not-be-named usually kills those in opposition of him.”
“Don’t say things like that,” I had replied, grabbing her by her shoulders as I said so. “You know I won’t let him kill you. You know I won’t let myself die! Not when I have you...” I could barely watch her, afraid that tears would fall down my face revealing themselves to her.
“Ronald,” she said with that soothing voice of hers. “I know that. But my mum knew she wouldn’t get herself killed when her daughter was still a child.” She started to stroke my back, holding me closer to her. I responded with holding her even closer to me. “We know all kinds of things, but in the end we realise that we know nothing at all. You can’t say you’ll never die, because then you would be lying.”
I knew that, and yet I could not allow myself to admit it. So I held her like that for a long time, and then I wrote my own will. We both knew the danger in fighting against You Know Who, and she was right, there was no real point in denying it. The only thing left was to prepare for it.
It had been a terrible battle, and it had just kept getting worse. People were dying everywhere, on both sides of the struggle. She and I had ended up alone, fighting for our lives. They hit her leg with some sort of spell, she got badly injured. I tried to get her away from there, fleeing with her so that I might get her to a healer. Throwing spells like a mad man, I had managed by some stroke of luck to mow the lot of them down. I pulled her arm over my shoulders and started running while half carrying her to safety. But it turned out that I hadn’t been as lucky as I had thought. One of the Death Eaters had recovered too quickly and thrown a spell at my poor Luna. A killing spell. I had heard him mutter the forbidden incantation, and had felt how she suddenly got heavier. I looked at her, and against my will I realised what had happened. With shock written all over my face, I slowly turned around and stared at him. Throwing away my wand, I screamed and started running towards him. What I was thinking? Either kill him with my own hands, or let him kill me. At the time, both options were acceptable. My heart was filled with vengence and the feeling of being seperated from the person I couldn’t live without.
But neither happened. He didn’t release me from the hell of living when she didn’t. I didn’t kill him in a weakminded attempt at filling the hole that was in my soul. Harry Potter, my best friend, attacked the Death Eater and managed to put him out before I even got close to him. For a moment it was all I could do, just stand there and look at what happened. And then I swiftly turned to Harry and pounced at him. Surprised at my behaviour, he never raised his wand in time to stop me. I was all over him, punching him where ever I could get at him. I was in a righteous state, not thinking of what I was doing. The only thing on my mind was that this person, my friend or not, had been in the way of my vengeful suicide, and he had to be punished. He had to feel the hurt I was feeling. Of course he didn’t take it laying down, I got my fair share of blows as well. As we were fighting without reason, my other best friend arrived at the scene. Hermione Granger. She whipped out her wand and threw a spell at us that seperated us from each other.
“What is wrong with you two?” she screamed at us, upset at what she had seen. “Why are you fighting each other?”
“He ... was in ... my way!” I more or less muttered, incoherently. “He took him out before I had a chance to ...”
“Ron, he was going to kill you,” said Harry, looking at me strangely. “I can’t understand what you were thinking. You didn’t have a wand, you ran towards a Death Eater who did have a wand and you say I took away your chance at taking out this guy? That’s suicide, Ron!”
“I KNOW!” I screamed as I fell to my knees. With my face buried into my hands, I started to cry, overcome with everything that had happened.
“What happened, Ron?” asked Hermione tentatively. “Where’s Luna? She did go with you, didn’t she?”
Without being able to speak, I just pointed up to the hill behind me. I didn’t want to look myself, but the image of how it might have looked became clear as I heard her gasp. Close to the top of the hill, her waist long blonde hair spread over her back, layed a teenage witch, who didn’t move any more. As the image entered my mind I could feel something building up inside, and I let out a deafening howl to release it.
The war had already ended on that day, but it had been too late. My angel, who gave me strength and love, was no longer with me. I looked at the gravestone in front of me, I had found her at last. It said:
Luna Lovegood
Born 1981
Died 1998
Loved in life
Mourned in death
Daughter, friend and betrothed
The writing seemed too summarised to me, like a person’s life could really be nothing more than that. I fell to my knees, like I had done about a week ago, and put down the bouquet of daisies. And then I just sat there for a while, not sure of what to do next. Before I knew it though, my mouth started moving and words came out.
“Hi Luna. Long time, no see. I’m sorry that I didn’t come to your funeral, but I‘m sure that the service was nice. It just doesn’t feel right to be around other people right now.”
For a while I kept quiet, just looking at her stone as tears made their way down my face. Then I said what I most of all wanted to say.
“I still love you, Luna. You will always be the only one for me. You were my angel, and my angel you will always be. Because you see, Luna, my mum told me once when I was little that angels never die. They only fly away. That’s what you did, Luna. You flew away. One day I will fly with you, but not yet. I still think you were mean to write that down in your will. ‘Ronald is forbidden to kill himself’, who ever writes that in their will? But I guess it was just your usual foresight, you knew what would be on my mind even before I knew it. I guess I have no choice but to learn to live without you for as long as I live. But when I die, you and I will have some serious catching up to do. But for now, I bid you farewell my angel who flew away.”
And with that I stood up on my knees and bended down to gently kiss the gravestone that had my loved one’s name on it. As I rose up and turned to leave I thought I felt something in the wind. Something pecularly familiar. I shrugged my shoulders and made my way back home, knowing that I now had to finally deal with planning my future without Luna.
I watched him leave my grave behind him. Every word that he had said was carefully written down in the depth of my soul. My dear sweet Ronald, not all angels fly away. Some stay behind to watch over their loved ones. I want you to live, my love, so that I may live with you. I wish to be there and see your triumphs, bring what comfort I can to your failures, and always love you. I will have to be there knowing that I can’t live with you. But I will carry that burden, just like you will carry the burden of living without me. Because that is what angels are for, and I am and always will be your own angel. An angel who never flew away.
Fandom: Harry Potter.
Disclaimer: Owned by JK Rowling. DUH!
Pairing: Ron/Luna. (OTP!)
Warning: Character-death. Angst.
The wind was blowing in my face. Soft and gentle, it cooled my cheeks and ruffled my hair. It was a grey day. Clouds were covering the skies, not letting a single ray of light slip past. I continued walking, solemnly clad in a dark suit, holding a bouquet of flowers in my right hand. They were daisies, her favorite kind. I had decided not to come to the funeral. As it was, I couldn’t bare to be near other people. Especially not my dear two friends who had found happiness in each other’s arms. It made me insanely jealous. Not because I wanted her, though I once thought I did, but because they had what I once had and now had lost forever.
They didn’t question my decision, and had simply let me be. Every one did that now. I didn’t think they understood me or how I felt, but perhaps they understood that they couldn’t understand. That no one can fully understand what it means to find love and then so suddenly have it ripped away from you, forever lost and never fulfilled. I have never been the brooding type, when I felt something, I voiced that feeling. It is simply the way I am, as fiery as the color of my hair. She had been as mysterious and as calm as her name. I remembered when I first realised how I felt about her. She had been talking about one of those fantasy creatures that didn’t really exist, and I had turned to her and said:
“How can you possibly believe that rubbish? There’s not a single proof and you know that!”
She had simply turned around to look at me, her dirty blonde hair thrown over her shoulders.
“Because I want to believe in it.”
I could remember feeling myself blush, but I couldn’t remember the reason for it. It might have been because she looked unusually cute. I quickly composed myself though.
“But why do you keep telling me about this stuff?”
“Because you listen to me.”
“What?” I had asked, surprised at her response.
“All of these times when you could have gone away, pretending you had something else to do, you stayed with me and listened to my stories. You have never believed in any of them, but at least you have stayed and listened to them. So I go to you, since I know you’d never go away from me.”
As much as I had wanted to deny it, I realised that I couldn’t. Because it was the truth, just as simple as that.
When I realised what I had been doing, I started to wonder why I was doing it. Why did I listen to her all of the time? As difficult as it was for my mind to reach a conclusion, the answer suddenly stared in my face. Because I loved her. Because I wanted to be near her, and listen to her voice. Because she made me into something more. Because she made me whole. Some time after that, I managed to get the guts to tell her how I felt. But just as I was trying to get the words out, failing miserably at that, she put her hand on my shoulder and said:
“I know.”
And then she kissed me, and I kissed her back. From that moment on we were inseperable. Only classes could pull us away from each other. She made me happier than anyone had ever done.
I looked up at the clouds, hoping that the rain could wait for a while as I made my way through the heather field. Then I looked ahead through the field and saw an old oak tree. She had written in her will of testimancy to be buried by that oak tree. I remember how uneasy that had made me.
“Why do we need to write these things?” I asked her then. “We’re not married yet, we can do that when we get there.”
“And what if we never get there? What if you or I die in the war? He-who-must-not-be-named usually kills those in opposition of him.”
“Don’t say things like that,” I had replied, grabbing her by her shoulders as I said so. “You know I won’t let him kill you. You know I won’t let myself die! Not when I have you...” I could barely watch her, afraid that tears would fall down my face revealing themselves to her.
“Ronald,” she said with that soothing voice of hers. “I know that. But my mum knew she wouldn’t get herself killed when her daughter was still a child.” She started to stroke my back, holding me closer to her. I responded with holding her even closer to me. “We know all kinds of things, but in the end we realise that we know nothing at all. You can’t say you’ll never die, because then you would be lying.”
I knew that, and yet I could not allow myself to admit it. So I held her like that for a long time, and then I wrote my own will. We both knew the danger in fighting against You Know Who, and she was right, there was no real point in denying it. The only thing left was to prepare for it.
It had been a terrible battle, and it had just kept getting worse. People were dying everywhere, on both sides of the struggle. She and I had ended up alone, fighting for our lives. They hit her leg with some sort of spell, she got badly injured. I tried to get her away from there, fleeing with her so that I might get her to a healer. Throwing spells like a mad man, I had managed by some stroke of luck to mow the lot of them down. I pulled her arm over my shoulders and started running while half carrying her to safety. But it turned out that I hadn’t been as lucky as I had thought. One of the Death Eaters had recovered too quickly and thrown a spell at my poor Luna. A killing spell. I had heard him mutter the forbidden incantation, and had felt how she suddenly got heavier. I looked at her, and against my will I realised what had happened. With shock written all over my face, I slowly turned around and stared at him. Throwing away my wand, I screamed and started running towards him. What I was thinking? Either kill him with my own hands, or let him kill me. At the time, both options were acceptable. My heart was filled with vengence and the feeling of being seperated from the person I couldn’t live without.
But neither happened. He didn’t release me from the hell of living when she didn’t. I didn’t kill him in a weakminded attempt at filling the hole that was in my soul. Harry Potter, my best friend, attacked the Death Eater and managed to put him out before I even got close to him. For a moment it was all I could do, just stand there and look at what happened. And then I swiftly turned to Harry and pounced at him. Surprised at my behaviour, he never raised his wand in time to stop me. I was all over him, punching him where ever I could get at him. I was in a righteous state, not thinking of what I was doing. The only thing on my mind was that this person, my friend or not, had been in the way of my vengeful suicide, and he had to be punished. He had to feel the hurt I was feeling. Of course he didn’t take it laying down, I got my fair share of blows as well. As we were fighting without reason, my other best friend arrived at the scene. Hermione Granger. She whipped out her wand and threw a spell at us that seperated us from each other.
“What is wrong with you two?” she screamed at us, upset at what she had seen. “Why are you fighting each other?”
“He ... was in ... my way!” I more or less muttered, incoherently. “He took him out before I had a chance to ...”
“Ron, he was going to kill you,” said Harry, looking at me strangely. “I can’t understand what you were thinking. You didn’t have a wand, you ran towards a Death Eater who did have a wand and you say I took away your chance at taking out this guy? That’s suicide, Ron!”
“I KNOW!” I screamed as I fell to my knees. With my face buried into my hands, I started to cry, overcome with everything that had happened.
“What happened, Ron?” asked Hermione tentatively. “Where’s Luna? She did go with you, didn’t she?”
Without being able to speak, I just pointed up to the hill behind me. I didn’t want to look myself, but the image of how it might have looked became clear as I heard her gasp. Close to the top of the hill, her waist long blonde hair spread over her back, layed a teenage witch, who didn’t move any more. As the image entered my mind I could feel something building up inside, and I let out a deafening howl to release it.
The war had already ended on that day, but it had been too late. My angel, who gave me strength and love, was no longer with me. I looked at the gravestone in front of me, I had found her at last. It said:
Luna Lovegood
Born 1981
Died 1998
Loved in life
Mourned in death
Daughter, friend and betrothed
The writing seemed too summarised to me, like a person’s life could really be nothing more than that. I fell to my knees, like I had done about a week ago, and put down the bouquet of daisies. And then I just sat there for a while, not sure of what to do next. Before I knew it though, my mouth started moving and words came out.
“Hi Luna. Long time, no see. I’m sorry that I didn’t come to your funeral, but I‘m sure that the service was nice. It just doesn’t feel right to be around other people right now.”
For a while I kept quiet, just looking at her stone as tears made their way down my face. Then I said what I most of all wanted to say.
“I still love you, Luna. You will always be the only one for me. You were my angel, and my angel you will always be. Because you see, Luna, my mum told me once when I was little that angels never die. They only fly away. That’s what you did, Luna. You flew away. One day I will fly with you, but not yet. I still think you were mean to write that down in your will. ‘Ronald is forbidden to kill himself’, who ever writes that in their will? But I guess it was just your usual foresight, you knew what would be on my mind even before I knew it. I guess I have no choice but to learn to live without you for as long as I live. But when I die, you and I will have some serious catching up to do. But for now, I bid you farewell my angel who flew away.”
And with that I stood up on my knees and bended down to gently kiss the gravestone that had my loved one’s name on it. As I rose up and turned to leave I thought I felt something in the wind. Something pecularly familiar. I shrugged my shoulders and made my way back home, knowing that I now had to finally deal with planning my future without Luna.
I watched him leave my grave behind him. Every word that he had said was carefully written down in the depth of my soul. My dear sweet Ronald, not all angels fly away. Some stay behind to watch over their loved ones. I want you to live, my love, so that I may live with you. I wish to be there and see your triumphs, bring what comfort I can to your failures, and always love you. I will have to be there knowing that I can’t live with you. But I will carry that burden, just like you will carry the burden of living without me. Because that is what angels are for, and I am and always will be your own angel. An angel who never flew away.