With You Forever
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not mine but belongs to JK Rowling as do the characters used within this ONE SHOT, except Anthony (he was created in my imagination!)
I remember everything that happened on the 7th of July, almost four months ago.
With You Forever
I remember the stream of tears that wouldn't stop falling from his hazel eyes.
I remember how he told me he 'didn't want me to leave him again'.
I remember each step he took closer to the front door.
With You Forever
Seven long strides before he had his hand on the door handle, twisting it.
Seven seconds before he was sprinting towards the forest, across the road.
Seven times I screamed his name, telling him to get back inside or he'd be in trouble.
With You Forever
I remember the rain, how it pounded against my face as I ran after him.
I remember how he glanced back at me, his tears blending with the raindrops.
I remember each droplet that hit my face before I noticed the car.
With You Forever
Seven heavy drops of rain fell down on to my right cheek, the angels were crying.
Seven milliseconds before I could hear tyres tearing through the puddles.
Seven blinks before I screamed in absolute fright and terror.
With You Forever
I remember how his little face showed me that this was all a big mistake, a nightmare.
I remember the way his eyes closed before the car sent him flying to the curb.
I remember how I ran, shouting, before I reached his still, limp body, holding him in my arms.
With You Forever
Seven curses left the driver's mouth before he began phoning 999 in a panic.
Seven times I called my brother's name, trying to get him to answer.
Seven ways that this could have been prevented.
With You Forever
I remember the words he said to me before his glowing honey eyes dulled:
"Love you, 'Mione".
With You Forever
Seven was the age my little brother, Anthony, had just reached when he died.
I still remembered how the 7th of July changed me.
I had lost my little brother…
Sitting on the grass, knees pulled up to my chest with my chin resting upon them, I watched the spring flowers sway gently behind the black marble gravestone. I refused to look at the name that was presented in curved, fancy writing along the middle of the stone. It held something too important. Too hurtful for me to even acknowledge. I would look when I was ready to. When I was sure tears wouldn't fall. My gut clenched uncomfortably as the breeze gushed passed me, blowing my hair in every direction.
"I'm so sorry", my voice was barely audible over the howling wind, "I didn't even want to go back there, Anthony".
My bottom lip trembled when I finally turned my head to read the words that were engraved, looking silvery in the early sunlight. Tears stung in my eyes but I pushed them back, knowing that if I started crying now I wouldn't be able to stop. Every Saturday, at least for an hour, I would sit in front of his grave and read the truthful words that came from my heart.
In Loving Memory Of
Anthony Donald Granger
9th of July 1989 – 7th of July 1996
A small gift sent down from God.
A golden treasure to hold.
Will be greatly missed…
Those words had been brewed within my mind for nearly three weeks before I finally came up with the perfect way to show my love. My parents had been too busy to even care about the preparations for their only son's funeral. Dad had hidden in his Dental Practice while Mum drove down to Devon to visit my grandmother, leaving me to plan my little brother's last farewell. It saddened me to know that they would block out their true emotions rather than face them with me, their daughter. Of course, I wouldn't blame them for trying to run away from the sorrow that was enclosing us all. But something really brought my fury out.
They didn't even come to Anthony's funeral.
What type of parents would do that? Obviously, mine but I couldn't think of a reason why. He had been an excellent boy, not like me who was a freak to them. His eyes brightened whenever I cast a spell. His smile broadened every holiday I managed to come home. His cheeks flared pink whenever I mentioned how handsome he would be one day. If only I had known that I wouldn't witness him as a true man. Someone who would be a better man than our own father.
"I'm sorry", I whimpered, feeling my shoulder sag, "So, so sorry, Ant".
The year that my brother died was the same year that Dumbledore died. Harry had gone into shock. The Weasley family, including Ron, had been there to love and care for him. Ronald had actually taken it upon himself to move my things into the smallest bedroom just so Harry-bloody-Potter could have more room to cry in. Not to sound sour but that had hurt a lot, knowing that they thought of me as a lower person than someone else, even if that person had survived the Killing Curse. It was a different kind of pain that had always been brought on by the one word many Slytherin pupils had loved to call me. These people were supposed to be my second family, my friends. So, why was the know-it-all sticking around? I was in the background, watching them all go into action, ignoring whatever I had to say.
That's when I decided to come home. I had packed my bags and left during the night, knowing that no one would wake up and come searching for me. When I had entered my old home, I was overwhelmed with the silence that practically suffocated me. Lights had been turned off and the front door was left unlocked. Without a second thought, my feet had taken me straight to my little brother's room and I was welcomed with teary eyes and a snotty nose. Our parents, it turned out, had left to go to a party that my mother's boss was hosting so Anthony was left alone, in the dark and cold. His condition had made me rethink my plans of helping in the Horcrux Hunt.
All of that had happened nearly four months ago.
Now, instead of helping the Great Harry Potter and his Sidekick Weasley, I was sneaking out of Hogwarts early on every Saturday morning just to visit Lakeview Cemetery that was hidden just outside of Muggle London. My hiding habit had become just that, a habit, ever since I had entered the walls of Hogwarts. McGonagall had been watching me with grief-stricken eyes ever since I had thrown the Head Girl badge at Dumbledore's portrait. It was his stupid idea, anyway, so I had showed him I didn't want it. I didn't want anything anymore, except to be with Anthony again. That would give me a chance to apologise to his face, to show him how sorry I was and to beg for forgiveness. If I hadn't told him I would be leaving, then he'd still be alive. If I hadn't forgotten that I was a witch, Anthony would still be in this world.
Still be giggling at cartoons on the old TV.
Still be eating his cereal for dinner.
Still be my little brother.
And that was when the tears finally overflowed.
Curled up into a tight ball, I was letting sobs shred my heart. It was too painful. The sun too hot against my cold skin almost like it was burning through my flesh and entering my bones. In my ears, I could still hear the wind whistling but my listening skills were picking up the sounds of the crash crunching under someone's steps. I could feel my body tense as the steps went by me without pausing and I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?" A soft voice asked, like an angel.
Nodding, I didn't bother to move.
"Do you need help?"
I shook my head.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Again, I shook my head, no.
"Okay, but you have to know that whoever you're grieving over will be with you forever", the voice said, comforting me in a way that no one ever could.
At that, I glanced up, moving my head in order to look at the person who was clearly lying. Anthony was gone. Dead. Never to come back. Away from this world. My eyes zeroed in on the person, the very familiar man, who was staring at me curiously. Platinum blonde hair. Silvery grey eyes. Clear, pale skin. Lanky figure.
"Malfoy?" My voice was a litte gravely from crying so much.
Shock coursed through me until it burned out, like most emotions that filled me.
"Granger?"
To him, I knew I would look like a total mess. My bushy, brown hair was probably even more wild than normal. I knew my skin would be blotchy, red circles rimming my eyes while the rest of my skin would be going between pale pink and creamy white. With one glance down, I took note of my dirtied robes, mud and dried grass was glued to the fabric.
"Why are you here, Mudblood?" He ground out from between clenched teeth.
He must have noticed the dirt of my clothing too...
Not being one to be insulted, I growled at him, "Could ask you the same question, Murderer".
Analysing him slightly, I watched as he unconsciously began to pull his shirt sleeves further down his arms but I still caught sight of a black tattoo. So he was in the ranks of the Dark Lord. But by the look on his face, a look I had seen on Ron's face when Fred and George had forced him into something he didn't want to do, told me that joining the Death Eaters was his father's idea. Remembering the little blonde boy from my first year, who trusted his dad's every word, I knew that this was not his decision. Dumbledore was a great man, even Malfoy had to at least like him.
"Answer me, Granger".
"Like you said, I'm grieving", my tone was icy, meant to freeze all in its way.
"Over who? I haven't heard of Potty or Weasel dying yet, and I'm sure they wouldn't be buried beside… filth", his sneer was back in place. "Has She-Weasel died or something?"
Smirking a smirk that could rival his own, I laughed humourlessly, "Oh no, the Boy-Who-Lived it still alive and well if I have heard right, his stupid sidekick is good too. Said Sidekick's family is well so no one has yet to be joined with the Heavens".
"So… Who?"
My eyes pierced his before I leapt to my feet and stormed up until I was face-to-chest with him. Overflowing with anger, I slammed my fists against his muscular frame, hoping to get the reaction I needed. Wanted. I wanted him to argue with me. I needed him to shout and insult me. It would make me forget for a while.
"Granger? Granger!" Malfoy gripped my wrists in one of his hands while his other took hold of my chin, "Calm down. Just tell me, okay? Tell me who's left you. Who's gone?"
My gaze trailed away from his stormy orbs only to come into contact with the gravestone that was labelling where my brother lay. Malfoy let go of me when he noticed the direction of my eyes and he moved closer to the grave, slowly with cautious strides. A quiet gasp escaped his lips before his eyes found mine again.
"Anthony Donald Granger? Who is-?"
"My brother", I interrupted, "died not long after Headmaster Dumbledore. He was seven but didn't act it. Some would say he was a fun version of me".
Surprisingly, Malfoy chuckled at that, "You may not be fun to others, Granger, but in your own weird, controlling way, you're a good laugh".
"Maybe but I put my education before my family", my voice was coated in anguish. "I just didn't realise that until it was too late".
"Did he love you?" Malfoy asked, his face falling.
With a nod, I answered tearfully, "He died telling me so".
"And you loved him too?"
Smiling gently, I looked up at the sky, "I will always love that boy".
"Then he knows that. Your brother will be with you forever, Hermione", Malfoy's, no this man was Draco, lips twitched as he took hold of my hand, giving me the support I had been craving for so long.
Please Review... :) It is greatly appreciated!
