Marcus Higgins And The Aftermath

By: Jewel C. Lennon

I

I looked around in utter horror. The once lively Great Hall where I had made great memories, has now become a make shift hospital, filled to the brim with the stench of death. I couldn't move at the sight of the dead being cried over by friends and loved ones. I felt ashamed for not crying at the sight of my own friend's dead bodies. Fred's large family mourned over him. Lavender's curly hair housed bits of rubble. My second year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and his wife lay there, hands still clutching.

I could see Neville and Oliver brining in another body, this one much more familiar. Mousey short hair, his face so young and-

"COLLIN!"

I ran as fast as I could, letting everyone stare at me. They had just put him down on a small violet blanket. Now the tears have arrived. I touched his damaged yet youthful face…cold. I checked his pulse…none.

"WHERE WAS HE!? WHAT HAPPENED!?"

"W-we f-found him in the courtyard," Neville barely mustered to speak.

"HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!"

Oliver put a hand on my shoulder, but I screamed at him to not touch me and to get back. They obeyed, though whether it was out of respect or out of fear I could not say. Truth be told, I wasn't supposed to be here either.

I held onto him, praying to a God I don't believe that he would wake up, or that this was all a horrid nightmare. I pinched myself to make sure.

It's all real.

I cried onto his face. I cried no. I cried why. I cried loud enough for everyone to hear. Then a thought came to mind. A rubbish thought, but I lived in a world of magic. I kissed him, to see if true love's kiss was real. Of course, it didn't. What a mess of a fool I've become.

Only moments later a quietness erupted. I looked up, and at the entrance to the death hall, was him. The closer to us he got, the more a fury inside of me raged. Once he was close enough I got up, my face flurried with redness and tears.

"He didn't have to die," I said. He looked at me, then to Colin, and he gave me a pity glance, yet said nothing. "He didn't have to die," I said again, this time loud enough for people to notice me once again. I began to rush towards him, yet his most trusted friends pulled me away from him. Yet that didn't stop me. I pulled out my wand. "Caputalbum!" He dodged the hex before it could hit him. Lucky bastard. "How many more have to die just so you can be the boy who lived?"

Harry Potter only starred and said nothing.

I woke up with a start, trying to catch my breath as I rapidly sat up. I took a moment to familiarize myself with my own surroundings; My closet, my white walls, and my large window by the stairs seeping in the sunlight. I was finally able to relax. "Just a dream, Marcus," I told myself out loud.

This is where I live, alone. In a small townhouse in Dublin. It was all I could afford when most of my savings is in galleons. Yet, it suits me just fine. I'm isolated from the wizarding world, which was my only need in a home.

*Knock knock* Somebody was at my door downstairs. What was strange was that I hadn't talked to anyone in the area since I've moved in. I just minded my own bossiness. Yet, someone wanted to see me. It was an inconvenient time because I had just woken up, and I sleep naked.

"One moment!" I said loud enough so that they could hear me from downstairs and outside. I quickly scrounged trough my closet to find some quick to put on pants. I settled for a pair of black sweatpants, despite there being a rip at the bottom right. I quickly glided down the narrow stairs and to the front door. In such a rush I had completely neglected the idea of looking trough the peep hole. Something I should've done.

I open my door to a familiar sight. The fiery red hair and freckles gave it away within a second, and my heart sank. She blushed a slight bit at the sight of me shirtless.

"Hello, Marcus," she said with a slight smile. I had to take a moment to process that my oldest friend who I haven't seen within a month or two, nor planned to see anytime in the future, has come to me, despite the fact I have not contacted her since graduation.

"How the bloody hell did you find me, Ginny?" I snapped at her with a demanding force. She remained calm despite my obvious displeasure. "The school has records of all students," she replied. "Now may I please come in?"

I wanted to say no. However, I knew if I did she would be relentless in trying to come in anyways. And by now, I had just lost all will to refuse anyone for anything. "Fine," I muttered. "Come in." I got out of her way as she walked in, and I closed the door behind her. "Now what do you want?" I asked as she put her bag on my coffee table.

"Well some tea would be nice," she said. She knew what my response would be, but my guess is that she said it to rekindle. "You know I don't like tea. I'm an Irishman. I have coffee, water and alcohol, take your pick." She seemed a bit appalled to my surprise.

"You're offering me alcohol at nine in the morning?" I rolled my eyes and began to make a pot of coffee. "Sit down," I said. "I have a feeling were going to be talking for a long while." I took out my bag of coffee beans and poured some into the machine along with some water. "Perhaps," she said as she sat down at my couch.

I waited until the coffee was ready and Ginny had a mug and as did I to ask her again what she wanted. She picked up he bag and took from it a pad and pen. "The Daily Prophet offered me a job interview. For it I need to provide a story I've created. I've decided to do on the survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts." Already red flags were being raised. "You're my closets friend, Marcus, so I came to you first." Once again, I lost the will of resistance. So, I nodded my head in agreement. She wrote a couple things in her notebook before going to the first question.

"What have you been doing since graduation?"

"Not a lot. I decided that I needed some space from the wizarding world after graduation. So, I moved to where I'm surrounded by muggles who don't know me from school."

"Have you met with any friends since graduation?"

"Not until now."

She paused for a moment.

"Did you lose anyone you cared for during the Battle?"

I gripped my coffee, in anger and in misery, too chocked up to come up with an immediate response. "You know the answer to that," I finally managed to say. We were both sitting on the couch, and she put her mug down and squeezed her hand on mine. "I'm sorry about Colin," she said, as if she never had said it before, which she has.

"Being sorry isn't going to bring back my lover," I said, trying my hardest to fight back tears. She squeezed a bit harder. "I miss him too but dwelling on it isn't going to do any good for you or bring any closure."

"You know what will bring me closure?" I snapped. "Seeing Potter locked away in Azkaban and the key thrown into the sea." She let go of my hands. "Marcus, you can't blame Harry- "

"Why? Is it because since he's the boy who lived he gets immunity for the lives he helped lose?"

"That was all Voldemort's doing- "

"Think about it Ginny. Voldemort was there at Hogwarts because Harry was there. If he had just turned himself in sooner, everyone would have their loved ones back."

"DON'T ACT LIKE YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO LOST A LOVED ONE HIGGINS!" she was loud enough for me to stop talking. She realized her tone and dialed it down ever so slightly. "I lost Fred. I was torn up about it. Everyone was. Marcus, if you won't believe anyone else then please believe me. Isolating yourself and dwelling on it will not do any good."

The tears had finally come for me, as did Ginny. We held each other in a tight embrace, letting the tears seep as they pleased. Finally, Ginny was able to muster a couple of words. "I miss you. I miss the time we spent together. I miss how we could come to each other and we would be able to cheer each other up. We had each other. I miss that." I was too chocked up now, but after a bit I was finally able to say, "I do to."

We let the tears run their course before letting go. We looked each other in the eyes for a split second. "Marcus, I know your birthday is coming in a couple of days, and I was wondering if you would like me to get some of our friends together to celebrate." I had barely realized it would soon be my birthday, August 16th.

"Sure," I said faintly. She smiled at me, wiping the last of her tears away. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm going to make sure you have a good time." Over the next few hours we reconnected. Most of what we talked about I probably would forget within a day or two, yet I still listened.

At around twelve she told me that she had to go if she was going to get to the people in Ireland for her interviewing. We said our goodbyes and she had vanished from my sight.

Maybe she was right about something. Maybe it's time I stopped dwelling.