𝔖𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 (18+ ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢)

The Summer After

     It hurt to breathe.

     It hurt to think.

     Most of all, it hurt to lose Fred Weasley.

     Fearing I'd shatter, I kept my gaze turned upward.

     Dark clouds poured its tears upon the gathered crowd surrounding Fred's closed casket. It's rained since Voldemort's defeat—as if the very sky had torn itself open—weeping for the war's lost souls.

     I was grateful for nature's cold liquid running down my flushed face. It made my misery look like nothing more than the weather. After all, the Chosen One couldn't appear heart-broken and tormented by guilt in front of the masses, now could he?

     Rita Skeeter's blonde head stood amongst the crowd along with dozens of other story-hungry journalists. All of them seemed to be waiting for a chance to catch me in a weak moment for their so-called news columns. The gossip vultures were a constant, like the endless rain, hounding me when I left the safety of the Burrow.

     "Fred was..." the round-faced Pastor continued speaking in his soothing tone.

     A drop of water hit me in the eye. My gaze traveled along the tear-streaked faces of the redheaded Weasley clan. The tight-knit family huddled around Molly and George. The duo clung to each other as tears poured down their grief-stricken faces—breaking my heart again.

     This isn't right!

     Choking down a sob, I stared at the wooden casket. More tears mixed with the rain and drizzled down my cheeks and the container holding Fred. Jolts of electricity shot through my nerves, urging me to rip the lid open and shake my lost brother back to life. 

     I couldn't breathe as my chest constricted, gripped by loss. The memory of the identical pranksters taking pity on me by giving me the Marauder's Map, flooded through my mind. Knowing I was trapped at Hogwarts while my friends were away, they said my need was greater than theirs and handed it over. From that moment on, I felt a familial bond with them that I never had with anyone before.

     I fumed over Fred dying and leaving me heart-broken. I was enraged that Dumbledore was murdered in front of me. And pissed off that Sirius was ripped away from me after having him in my life for so brief a time. 

     Maybe it was selfish to feel like I deserved happiness, but I couldn't help it. After all, I killed the Dark Lord, keeping the world from being consumed by that Mad Wizard. Didn't I deserve to have my loved ones safe and sound? Or was that too much to ask? 

     Ginny tugged on my arm, pulling me back to reality. "Come on, Harry."

     Blinking several times, I realized Fred's casket  was lowered into the ground to become one with the earth. And the black-clad figures drifted away in all directions, like ripples on a pond.

     I looked into Ginny's reddened eyes before allowing her to lead me towards the portkey.

      An overwhelming feeling of being caged—like a circus animal—grabbed hold of me. I needed to breathe and get away as fast as possible. Detaching Ginny from my arm, I said the first thing that came to mind, "I just remembered. Kingsley asked me to come in and provide some more clarification on a few things."

     "Haven't you already given the Ministry everything they needed?" Ron frowned.

     Shrugging, I said, "I'm sure it won't take too long."

     "Harry, the last time you went off alone, you were attacked. It's dangerous for you with Death Eaters and Voldemort loyalists still running around. Not to mention, I saw Skeeter lurking earlier," Hermione said in her disapproving tone as she leaned into Ron's chest.

     "I'll be fine. Besides, I wasn't too injured, a few scrapes and bruises is all."

     Hermione shook her head, "Okay, Harry. Just be careful." 

     "Would you like me to go with you?" Ginny asked before blowing her nose into a yellow-flowered handkerchief.

     "No, thanks, Ginny." I looked at Hermione. "I have my cloak, and I won't take it off until I arrive at the Ministry."

     She tilted her butterscotch-haired head at me as if knowing that I was lying. "See you back at the Burrow."

     "Be careful, mate," Ron said.

     "Right." I slipped my invisibility cloak on and started wandering around the graveyard.

     Within minutes the cemetery emptied of people. Only rain and the occasional bird call filled the air.

     My sneakers splashed through a puddle as I passed Lavender Brown's resting place. That had been yesterday and the day before that had been two other solemnities. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin's sizable blue-grey headstone caught my eye. I shook my head, not wanting to think about Teddy losing his parents at such a young age.

     I closed my eyes and took a deep breath; the smell of soil, grass, and rain filled my nose. When I opened them again, the dark patches of freshly covered graves stood out amongst the rows and rows of headstones.

     Unable to stop, grief spilled down my face. Allowing myself this moment, I leaned against a tree and sobs shook my body down to my core.

     Eventually, I wiped my face dry and my feet carried me towards the portkey.

     Shocking white-blonde hair popped into view. The black clad wizard stopped at Fred's gravestone.

     Recognizing Draco Malfoy, I felt the heat of anger rip through me and set my feet into motion. Storming towards the offender, I clenched my fists. I was going to forgo my wand and break his face as soon as I was within punching distance.

     A lone white rose dropped from Malfoy's slender fingers. It lay amongst the other flowers gathered on Fred's grave.

     I froze. My vision must have faltered. I wondered if everything I'd endured over the last few years was finally getting the best of me.

     The haughty Slytherin was dressed without a single strand of hair out of place. But as I drew closer to him, the truth of his state was evident. He looked defeated—like he hadn't eaten, smiled, or even spoke in months.

     Malfoy's silver eyes shimmered as he mumbled to my friend's headstone. Placing his long, pale fingers on the gravestone, his slight frame shook. As it did, his tortured cry reached my ears.

     His remorse was powerful, like a black-hole that sucked all the air from my lungs. My throat was desert dry and tears stung my eyes. I didn't know what to do as I felt my anguish over the loss of Fred mix with Malfoy's.

     A magnet locked onto my body and pulled me closer to the dark-clad blonde. I don't know why—maybe to bring me comfort by being kind—but I wanted to tell Malfoy everything was going to be okay.

     I froze mid-stride when realizing that my shaking hand was almost touching him. I had no right to interfere. Malfoy was here to grieve, make peace, or whatever and I should respect that. 

     Confused with my compassion for the Slytherin, I commanded my feet to carry me from the graveyard as fast as possible. When I grabbed hold of the portkey, I vowed I would never tell anyone what I'd seen.