we'll say things we meant to say
May 2nd, 2008
They still stare at each other like they're teenagers because they're grateful they can.
Ten years have gone by but that doesn't make any of the emotions actually go away, apparently, because neither of them has talked yet the entire day. It's a day of regret more than anything else, because grief numbs faster than guilt.
Crabbe died today, he thinks. Fred died today, she thinks. Snape died today, he thinks. Colin and Professor Lupin died today, she thinks. The list went on, eventually including people who didn't die but maybe wished that they did.
It didn't seem all that real then. It does now.
But it was always real, and they both know it.
He says something first, in a whisper, after he thinks he hears something. "I think I've finally lost it."
"You're just as sane as I am," he hears from behind him, but that one's real and something he's heard too much and it's funny but it's not.
Today, nothing's funny.
The last enemy defeated is death.
Draco doesn't believe that—the last enemy defeated is the pain that comes from death. "I'd hope not," he says as an answer, finally. Because no one wants to be as "sane" as Luna, but people probably say the same thing about him.
"Did you notice all of the flowers that started blooming today? Lovely spring weather, I think." She says it in her usual dreamy lilt that now seems out of place. (It was endearing when they were kids, but things are different, now.)
Now, now, now. What ever happened to the past?