A/N: So this is the sequel to my other song fic Take Me There. WARNING: This one is kind of sad. Read/Review/Enjoy!
I would like to apologize for how late this is. There were problems with the website and It wouldn't let me post. :(
What Hurts The Most
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house.
That don't bother me.
The war had taken a good portion of everything she loved. Her home had been destroyed. Her father had lost his mind trying to find her (he'd have to spend the rest of his life in St. Mungos.) Her school was in a state of disarray; over half of it was rubble. She watched people die and had been powerless to stop it. But of all the thing's she'd lost, she missed her heart the most.
Fleur had almost expected her to return to Shell Cottage; she'd been there so long. But she couldn't bare to go back. There were too many memories. Aberforth had offered her a room in the Hog's Head free of charge. She saw it as her best option. The pouring rain outside was parallel to the tears streaming down her face. Dean was dead.
It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone.
Everyone had paired off. Ginny and Harry had gotten together effortlessly. Hermione and Ron, well it was like they were already together. Neville had taken to Hannah Abbott. Apparently, they had gotten close in the time of her absence. Seamus and Padma were rumored to be going out as well. She was happy for her friends, but they made her loneliness even more apparent.
People had forgotten about her. She had received only one visit in the three months since the war had ended, and it was Harry. His visit was short and insincere. She knew he meant well, he just lacked anything comforting to say. She missed that about Dean.
They never had to try to hard to comfort each other. They rarely even had to say a word at all. Their relationship was more physical and emotional than verbal. It was undefined. If someone were to ask her what they were to one another, she wouldn't know what to say. They were lovers, but not typical ones. They were friends. He was the best man she ever knew.
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me.
She felt tears pour out of her eyes, but made no attempt to stop them. They scared her. She was never one to cry. The war had broken her spirit. She tried her best to force a smile, but rarely accomplished more than a curved frown. She found she had no desire to smile.
Visiting her father was worse than being alone. He barely recognized her. His failing health and detireating mind only served to remind her how much the war had costed. Then there were the funerals. She didn't think she could sit through another one. All the families would group together and cry as a unit. Luna would cry alone. It's wasn't that she wasn't welcome; she just didn't feel right intruding in on a moment that wasn't hers.
What hurts the most was being so close
and having so much to say and watching you walk away.
"Meet me here when this is over." That was the last thing her said to her before her died. He squeezed her hand (which he hadn't let go of the entire time that they had been at Hogwarts) and kissed her. He said "I love you" in a barely audible whisper. She wasn't even sure if he had said it at first. He disappeared into the crowd before she had time to respond. She would never get that chance.
She barely recognized his body piled amongst all the others. His warm smile was replaced by an empty, cold stare. It looked foreign on his face. She hid his body before Seamus had a chance to see it. She knew how close the two had been and she didn't want Seamus in that much pain. As she sobbed uncontrollably, she realized that no one would ever know how close that they had been. Their graveside secret's had died along with him.
She never found out how he had died, but she never really put much effort into finding out either. The fact that he was gone was enough and yet too much at the same time. She couldn't even bring herself to attend his funeral. Nothing she could have said would've ever been enough.
And never knowing what could've been.
She often wondered what would've happened if he'd survived. Would've they gotten together like everyone else or just fallen by the way side? They could've been a proper couple. They might have even gotten married and had a family. They could have lived happily ever after, couldn't of they? Did he really say "I love you," or was it her imagination? Not knowing the answers to these questions, hurt worse than anything else.
And not seeing that loving you
was what I was trying to do.
A/N: I told you this was sad! So I'm not continuing past this point. I was going to make a third one, but I felt this one had too much of a closing feeling. If you get the chance, go check out some of my other (happier) stories. Thanks for reading!