one ~ tranquility

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Cassidy's POV:

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Cassidy's POV:

     You never really understand grief until you experience it. 

     I could tell you that it was like decaying while the world went on indifferently but that wouldn't even be the half of it.

     Every breath I took and step I made was simply a reminder that I was here and my Dad wasn't.

     If I was helping Mrs. Weasley with the dishes, flashes of the joyous nights at the Grimmauld place would flit across my mind. 

     The nights where we'd clean the kitchen after dinner with a little bit of music playing while we sang our asses off. 

     If I was watching Ginny and Ron pass the quaffle in the air I remember how my dad commentated Quidditch oh so siriusly.

     His laugh and jokes about it reverberated in my mind and I wondered if people heard a resemblance in my laugh. 

     If the twins had pranked Ron I remember how my dad was a prankster once too. 

      And now there was only one true marauder remaining.

      Guilt seemed to be grief's best friend. It followed me everywhere I went. 

      I had lost my dad because I couldn't save him but on top of that, I was unable to save Uncle Mooney's best friend and Harry's Godfather. 

      Somedays the urge to apparate into Harry's room came to mind but the thoughts of burdening him always won over. 

     How could I tell myself I had the power to save everyone if I couldn't save my own dad?

     On the other hand, there were plenty of articles talking about me and Harry, but I ignored them all and eventually Mrs. Weasley canceled her subscription to the Prophet. 

     Scrimgeour is now Minister, not that he'll be any better. By this time next year he'll be dead and we'll be on the search for horcuxes. 

     Time. Such a silly thing and yet it moves by so fast without mercy....and, gods, did I hate it.

     But instead of crying, I forced myself into Order business and plastering on a smile when necessary. 

     I continued going to the Order meetings where we mostly discussed connections within the ministry and I told them of any deaths I knew about that summer. This included the death of Emmeline Vance and Amelia Bones. 

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞-𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱Where stories live. Discover now