Disclaimer: I regrettably do not own anything that you may recognize from the world of JK Rowling or the Wizarding World Universe.
Warning: Major character death and dark topics discussed.
A/N: Hello everyone! I wrote this as a project for my English Literature class last year and just found it amongst many papers. If you guys like it let me know and I will expand it into a multy chapter in the near future. Without further ado, enjoy my little Potterheads 3
How can you explain to your children that the most part of your soul is dead? That what you considered the best part of yourself has been ripped away from you? That you no longer smile in the morning because you don't have her unruly curls as your pillow, her beautiful brown eyes to keep you grounded?
There's always been certain tragedy around those who die young. They had so much to live. So much time ahead. So many things to do… But, what about those they leave behind? He could say he'd been happy. For the most part, his life hadn't been a walk in the sun… up until he met her. She had been his best friend, his partner, the daylight shining through the windows of their cottage in a mid-summer's morning. She had brought happiness back to his life. All his mistakes, all his wrongs, everything he blamed himself for, was forgotten in an instant when she smiled at him. For her, past was past. She was only interested in helping him along the way, supporting him, helping him to change. But, what was he supposed to do now?
Clutching her pillow to his chest, while hot tears slipped down his cheeks. He was alone, her scent fading from their room, their children forgetting about her, and his heart breaking with every breath he took, reminding him of the life he was living without her. There was no way he could survive.
Their boy didn't cry anymore asking for his momma to kiss him good night. And their little girl, so young but yet an exact replica of her, wouldn't even remember her voice singing to her. That lullaby, the one he'd try to repeat but then his voice would break and words would flee him. They had been the light in her eyes, and now they wouldn't even know who she was. The pain was excruciating, every night he waited for his children to fall asleep, and he crawled back into bed, hugged his wife's pillow to his chest and buried his face in his. He shouted until his throat went raw, with every sob his battered heart breaking in half. His very soul had been severed from him the moment her eyes unfocused. When he could shout no more, the sun was again mocking him through the curtains. Every single day, since he lost his Hermione.
As the days wore off, he would smile for their children. When their son asks why mommy had gone to heaven without him, his soul would break once more, but not die. When their daughter smiles at him with those same brown eyes, his would cry. Though if it is because of heart-breaking sadness or joy would be more difficult to distinguish as time goes by.
When their children fall, he will be there to pick them up with a smile. With every smile of theirs, a new stich will put his heart together. It's still broken, and numerous cracks can be seen, unable to be repaired, but beats with a purpose now. They say time heals every wound, but there are some too deep to be fully recovered.
And then we see those who were children not so long ago, standing next to a bed, where an old man lies happy. The wrinkles marking his skin testimony of the weight he's wore on his shoulders throughout his life. But he is happy, and so he tells their children. With each passing year he came to the conclusion that his life had been a gift. Every human being has to die sometime, some sooner rather than later. He got to spend his life caring for the last gift, the ultimate gift she had left behind for him to cherish. He saw two toddlers become teenagers, he got to experience things he wouldn't have dreamed of missing. Now next to him stand a man and a woman he is proud to call their own. With contentment, he closes his eyes as he lets his head fall to the side.
He knows she will be waiting. And as he opens his eyes again, the smiling face of his Hermione is everything he sees. Finally reunited, with thankful prayers on their lips for the most wonderful of lives and the even more wonderful of reunions.