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𝕲rief is love's shadow, the presence of absence, an unbearable weight of emptiness.
Bubbly, happy fifteen year old Willow with four new parental figures on top of the two she had would probably be distraught, vomiting uncontrollably from the despair and pain clawing at her chest right now. Loss. The fear of more loss.
Nearly twenty years old, a parent to my own, i'm hanging on to the last motherly advice i'd received from Mia Potter when i'd ventured to see her wearily from my suspicions days before she and Monty were journeying to their peace.
'Hold on to the love, not the loss, my dear Willow. And I love you the way you love your Maple'
Desperately clutching at the soothing words to replay constantly in my mind, I lifted my gaze from my daughter to find James' hand clutched tightly in Regulus', in his arms their sweet baby boy, Harry James Potter, who had missed meeting his grandparents within days.
Regulus had been insistent, no stars, if he was going to carry Black within his name, that was enough ties. The Potters. The Potters were his family, and when James had remembered the name I had mouthed to him years ago on the grounds, they'd found the name for their son. Harry, a spiritual message, Good will always triumph evil, and nothing can destroy a pure and divine soul.
Dragon Pox. It was dragon pox that had taken them away, the incurable disease had paled, aged and snatched them fast. Within breaking the news to everyone reluctantly, it had only been a matter of days before they had only left behind memories and bonds that were still holding strong. Irreplaceable. James and Sirius were brothers as they bid goodbye, a promise for a future greeting in time.
It's hurts. It hurts to see my goofy Jamesie-deer, the other half of the sun with sorrow and heartbreak written on his forehead, greeting his parents' acquaintances. He's supposed to be as lively as ever, basking in these newborn moments with the son he's always talked about having, already trying to force him onto a broom at three days old for Regulus to scold him and bundle Harry into his arms. It's hurts.
Just like for Hope, there hadn't been a proper funeral for loved ones to gather. There was a little gathering by Mia's prized flowerbeds, and an open manor for friends and family to offer their condolences and pay their respects for the elderly couple who had changed the world as we know it.
My lips tug up sadly when a body falls limp into my side, head flopping down on my shoulder with a throaty sigh. Closing my eyes temporarily, I shifted my head, pressing my lips to his head and burying my nose into his raven locks, whispering,
"I'm not going to force you into pretending you're alright like you are doing for everyone else. I know your heart is slightly screaming in pain. I'm here to hold you, mon rêve"
Sirius' lips wobble, a choked sob slipping through them before he could help it, heart strings tugging violently in his chest. She was right. He felt raw, sore and exhausted from hiding his silent screams in agony. She always knows, and part of him hurts more because he knows she's having to go through this for the fifth number of parents, whether she lost hers as a baby, she's still had to grieve.
