just for you (years 5-7)

chapter 63

i've always hated funerals.

my grandmother's was the first i attended.

it was somber. bleak. but what i hated the most was seeing my mother cry.

yet this funeral was decidedly worse.

it had been three days.

three days since everything changed. since our headmaster fell from the tower and our world's fell apart.

draco was gone. back to the manor, we all guessed. snape had disappeared as well.

none of us knew which had cast that final blow.

that crucial spell that had led us to this moment, the entire student body gathered on the field, staring at a stone casket.

and here— everyone was crying.

whether we had liked him or not. worshipped him or wanted his head on a stick— we all knew what this meant.

the war was finally upon us. the lines in the sand had been drawn.

dumbledore was dead.

and it weighed even heavier on those of us who had known it was coming— who spent all of the past three days considering what more we could have done to stop the inevitable.

it was the first time i'd seen theo cry.

in pain, or in anger. he tore up draco's bed sheets. screamed at them and nearly set his dresser on fire. shouted and sobbed until pansy got him to calm down.

he'd gotten a letter from his father— after draco's 'success'— the dark lord expects theo to take the mark next.

we had to tell crabbe and goyle, now, for obvious reasons. we all moved into the boys dorm, comforted theo.

he was planning to run. as far as he could.

i've been so focused on him the past three days, i hadn't had time for any grief of my own.

now, standing here, staring at dumbledore's casket, it was finally sinking in.

draco had— possibly done it. voldemort thought he had, at least, or else he wouldn't signing another minor into his ranks.

draco's compliance had done nothing. he thought he was saving us— taking the curse to keep us protected. to save his mum, to free his dad.

and now everything was just— worse.

dumbeldore is dead.

draco is gone.

theo is next.

and the only thing tying me to reality is daphne's hand clasped in mine as she stands beside me, sobbing into blaise's shoulder.

__________________________

it's august when the letter comes. i'm staying in france with mum— an old friends flat.

mum doesn't want any part of what's going on in england. the fights, the danger.

theo's with us— thank god. his left arm clean. he escaped with us just in time. daphne says the death eater's were at his door the next morning.