Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this fiction.
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She does not usually have the TV on late at night, but it has become a routine she dares not abandon for the past five years. It has become her escape of the noise in her now silent apartment. Only she resides in the apartment that was meant for two.
The war was not easy on her, on any of the witches and wizards back then, really. It was drawn out, tiring and most times, fatal. But all the surviving students and their parents, all the teachers and members of the ministry finally gain victory over the Dark Lord. The victory party lasted for days, people still exhausted, but never the less, content that things were going the way they wanted. Peaceful.
It was almost too natural how they would move in together after things settled down, like they were just sharing co-ed chambers, and instead of going to classes, they went to work. The move was swift and simple. It helped a great deal that the apartment they wanted was already furnished in muggles items, since they were just starting out on their own. There were two things that they cherished most when home together. Their bed and the telly. She would look at her history channels and occasional comedy show, while he would watch various sports, late night shows, news and cartoons, his childhood never fully left on the battle field.
He stood in the doorway now, watching the hues of the blue screen play along her small amount of exposed skin, the channel long since disconnecting for the night. The blanket of red and gold wrapped around her small frame so gracefully, it was like the blanket was a comfortable second skin. Her hands delicately clasped underneath her head as she lied on her side, her hair mussed and on the couch pillow.
He walked over and kneeled down by her face, looking into it for a good handful of moments. He smiled a soft, sad smile as he reached to stroke her cheek, only to touch air against his now transparent hand. The hand that held hers so many times. The hand that held her. The hand that placed the gold band on her left ring finger. It was now, a ghost of the past, which he can no longer linger on. He had to move on.
He stood and took one last look at her, his small smile breaking apart as the telly's blue rays shined through his body and onto her own, his frame no longer having the ability to block, defend or protect.
He supposed the blue color fit her, so he allowed it for a minute more before finally, saying one final good-bye, left her in the blanket of a blue screen.