He wasn't breathing, that he was sure of, and what was he unsure of? If he even possessed the ability to breath at the moment. His ribs felt like they were crashing in, and his heart was clenching and unclenching. It was all very painful, and he had a feeling if all the adrenaline wasn't rushing through his veins he would've blacked out.
He finally came to the infirmary where he stopped in front of the door. This was the moment of truth. He would enter this infirmary and… and see Melody lying on the bed with a smile on her face, that's it. That girl, Amelia, was lying; it's as simple as that. He reached forward and pressed the door open, taking a step inside. At first, the infirmary appeared empty.
At first.
Then his eyes directed towards a stretcher with something that was shaped like a body was covered by a sheet.
He shook his head in denial. He didn't even register the Auror standing next to the stretcher asking if he was okay. Madam Pomfrey came out of her office at this moment with a stack of documents. He just barely managed to turn his head to meet her sad eyes. He couldn't do this; he couldn't deal with such a thing. He took a step back and let the infirmary doors close in his eyes.
He was breathing, shallowly but at least he was. He was numb, not even feeling the tears that filled his eyes but refused to fall. He heard an echo of his name, glancing over to see the headmaster heading his way. He knew the twisted headmaster would want to talk about this, or give him some weird advice about the afterlife or something of the sort. He couldn't deal with that if anything.
He turned on his heel and ran. He ran and ran and ran, and didn't even know where he was running to. He ended up running through the common-room and even made it to the dormitory before tears stained his cheeks. He slammed their dormitory door shut, dropping back against it and sliding down until he hit the floor. He pulled his legs up to his chest to hug them tightly, sobs breaking out as he pushed his head into his knees.
That was it, she was gone. There would be no more walking about in the snow, no watching her gracefully play the piano, no more carrying her on his back, or scaring register-girls.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, bundled in a ball against the door. He knew it was about three in the afternoon when he was outside playing with Padfoot, and now the moonlight flooded into the room. He was pushed onto his side when the door was pushed open to reveal Sirius poking his head in. His best friend slipped inside and lifted Peter from the ground, carrying him over to the bed to place him under his blankets.
Peter turned away from Sirius to stare at the wall, his body still pulled into a tight protective ball, tears still running down his cheeks. He stayed like that for two days, his eyes no longer raining tears but covered in black bags, his stomach growling but he couldn't find himself to care, and his mind begging him to sleep but he couldn't do that out of fear that his mind would betray him and send a happy dream surrounded by her his way. He couldn't be happy with her gone. He'd never be happy again, not really anyway.