Author's Note
Just posting a few of my one-shots from HPFF. Reviews are welcome :)
It was like the line on a heart monitor, a doctor's stony face, white sheets being pulled over a lifeless face.
One by one, everyone else left the room. Lily, James, Ginny, until it was only me sitting there.
"Al, please come back. I'm so sorry, just please come back. Forgive me. Albus?"
My son's pale figure lay there in his bed, his eyes shut, his mouth slightly open. A ray of golden sunlight splattered across the room, lighting up random segments of the emerald green walls. He'd been a Slytherin, and a proud one at that. My only wish was a few more minutes with him, to remind him how much I love him, how proud I am of him, even now.
"Albus, come on. The birds can't stop singing. Al, we need you. We all need you. I need you. Please, don't leave us!"
Despite my desperate pleas, he just lay there, the light outside dancing across his face. Before I could stop them, the tears flooded from my eyes, cascading down my cheeks like a waterfall. That was how Ginny found me, when she reappeared at the door. No words were spoken. She walked over and enveloped me in a hug, both of us crying in the silence.
The funeral was as simple as we could make it. Everybody turned up; Ron, Hermione, George, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Audrey, and of course all the kids. We stood there together as the black coffin disappeared into the flames, just as he'd planned it. For months he'd sat there on his bed with a blank sketch book, drawing and writing all the details like an architect or something. He'd never show us, saying that it was part of his will.
The will itself was simple; all the money was left to Hogwarts and various charities, while his possessions were to be dealt between us. Instead they just sat there in his room, none of us brave enough to muster up the courage to go inside.
It was a month later when we heard them. The birds. Right on his birthday, the tune flooded the house, crawling inside of your head like it used to be. It was a sign. We knew that what we were doing was against Albus' will; mourning. He would have wanted us to smile at all our memories, not cry. The others did. They laughed together at the 'good old times', gazing happily at our old family photos. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. Whenever Lily or James commented on something about him, I would laugh with them, only to excuse myself from the room afterwards.
Everytime, Ginny would find me in the same place, sitting on his otherwise untouched bed, staring absently at all the trinkets and photos that were slowly collecting dust. She'd take me by the hand and remind me that he was gone. It was time to move on. It wouldn't hurt, wouldn't change things. I just needed to accept it.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it.
The thing I wanted, even more than to see his face again, was so simple. Something that would allow me to sink into the guilt, the pain, the memories.
Even after all that time I spent begging them to begin again, to sing me their tune that was always sung when he was around.
I only wished that the birds would stop singing.