[Disclaimer: I own nothing but Anya Corso, and sometimes I think it might be the other way around…]
Famous Gryffindor Stupidity
Summary: Anya did a stupid thing. Hermione mourns.
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Of all the people I expected I wouldn't see after the war, your name didn't even make the list. To be perfectly honest, I didn't expect to see you in the war. You told me you were going to America with your father, and I believed you.
Isn't that just the way. The one time you're lying to me and I actually believed you.
I didn't realise you were there until the final battle -- I saw you, you know. I don't know if you saw me, but I saw you. There you were, my tiny, beautiful little goddess, that absurdly long hair of yours in a plait, throwing curses I'd never even heard of and cutting down the Death Eaters in your path.
Fighting for your life and my life and so many others lives and you'd never looked more beautiful to me.
You stupid, thoughtless bitch. How dare you go and get yourself killed? How could you? When I told you I was going to fight, you sneered at me over your book and muttered something nasty about 'famous Gryffindor stupidity'.
Why am I still here while you're in that box at the front of the Church?
Church. You'd be pissed if you knew, wouldn't you?
It's an open-coffin funeral. It doesn't look like you, though. You were...full of life, full of fire, full of passion.
You look so small now, white satin and dark wood encasing you.
I was the one that found you when you died. I saw it happen, I screamed for you to get out of the way but you didn't, you just turned and, god, you're so small. How could such a tiny thing like you affect me the way you do...did...
You looked so shocked as you were flung backwards into the dirt. I killed the man who did it, I didn't think about it, I just...acted. I'd been just knocking them out and keeping them down before that, but I killed him. Lucius Malfoy. I saw Draco later, he looked like he didn't know whether he was grateful or vengeful.
I know I'm rambling. You used to say you liked to listen to me talk, though you'd always groan and moan if I said anything about S.P.E.W. At least you never called it 'spew'.
I miss you, Anya.
I love you.