In the Wake of Death

By: LiquidVamp

A/N: My muse, Maggie, is simple girl. All she likes are plot bunnies and reviews. So be kind to Maggie and feed her review cookies please.

Big thanks to my beta Lbandoly for her hard work. She has spent countless hours editing and providing plot help for my stories. She makes my writing possible.

No copyright infringement intended. All characters are the property of JKR, Scholastic, and any number of other companies with more money than I've ever dreamed of seeing. I didn't make any money off of this, so please don't sue.

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She had never thought much about what happened after a person died. She had stood in the face of danger and defied death so many times that it had become less sensational over time. Time had passed, dangers came and went, the threat of death became a daily thought hanging over her head but she had never once questioned whether there was another life. But in the previous year she had come to think on it more than her fair share. It occupied her mind more often than not she found.

She tilted her head and looked at the somber gray marble marker that sat at the head of the grave. He was gone and now she found herself unable to think of anything else. Was there another life after this one? Would they meet again in heaven as the clergy in the church she had attended as a child always said? Or was death truly the end of it all?

The questions rolled through her mind and for the first time she felt as if she had no answers for them. There were no books to turn to. No wizened wizards she felt she could seek the answers from. There were only questions, questions, and more questions. Questions without answers and that in its self bothered her more than she cared to admit.

She racked her brain to recall hearing anyone in the wizarding world speak on the subject but she just couldn't seem to place anything. Not when any of the people she knew passed away during the war or over the years as sickness and other tragedy had struck could she recall a single conversation about where wizards went when they passed on. She couldn't even seem to remember what words of solace she must have shared with Harry when he had lost his godfather when they were teenagers. Certainly she must have said something on the matter but she couldn't recall. It seemed so long ago to her now. It was so long ago.

The chilly fall winds cut through her as she stood staring at the now grassed over plot. It had been so long the earth had taken root once more. Part of her hated the very grass that grew atop his grave and part of her thanked it for holding him in the very arms of nature that he had loved so much.

She hated every part of herself for not being there with him and for being too cowardly to join him. But she knew her place was in life. He would have hated the mere thought that she had passed away much less if she had taken her own life because his had ended. He had always enjoyed bringing out such fire and spunk in her. He loved to make her see, feel, and be part of life not just read about it. He so enjoyed forcing her eyes away from dusty tomes in favor of green grass and roaring dragons. He had forced her to look outside of her box of comfort and seek new things to find joy in. When the world had seemed completely pear-shaped but he had brought it back into focus for her.

Gently she laid a white rose across the top of the marble headstone, trailing a gloved finger across the rough hewn texture of the stone as she did. "I promised you I would live on my love. I'm trying, truly I am," she whispered into the winds. "But do me a favor please. If there is a higher power waiting to decide when I can join you again, remind him or her that I don't do well without you here to draw me out and center me. I miss you," she said softly.

Tears streamed silently down her face as she turned from the plot and made her way back towards to the small home they had made for themselves. The children would be home soon, eager to share the tales of their day and even more eager to fill their forever empty stomachs. It was a tradition their father had started and she refused to let it die with him. The boys would end up in the garden at some point on their brooms while her daughter-in-law borrowed the much loved rocker in the corner to rock the baby to sleep for the night.

It hardly seemed possible that all but one of them should be grown. It only seemed a few years since the war had ended, her life had changed, and that she had fallen in love with a dragon keeper that she had once thought of nothing more than as a brother. In truth, time had wiled away and she was sporting more than one gray hair. The eldest son had a wife and child of his own and the youngest son would finish his seventh year at Hogwarts in the spring.

While she hated that her Charlie wouldn't be there to see it or the coming weddings and births of the grandchildren she knew were to come, some part of her just knew he was sitting somewhere comfortable keeping a watchful eye on her and their rather growing brood. He was likely laughing at their antics and whispering comforting words to her when her heart reminded her that half of itself was missing.

She pulled her cloak a bit tighter around her shoulders and glanced fondly back at the plot just at the edge of the forest that held her beloved Charlie. She couldn't help but want to cry a bit more but she refused. She dried her tears with her gloved fingers and tried to put on a smile. He had always instilled in her and their children to look back fondly and look forward with a smile. She tried to never reenter their home with tears in her eyes for that reason. He would have wanted a smile on her face and joy in her heart. While he had moved on to whatever came next she was still here and their family needed her as much now as they had when they were just tiny tots tearing through the garden.

Finite Incantatem