I continue to stare blankly at the gravestone. My knees are week with the fresh morning dew that covers the grass. I remain still as a cold wind cuts through the air. Something brushes against my shoulder, and I whip around, grabbing my wand and thrusting it in the direction of my attacker. She trips over over a gravestone while scrambling away from me.
"George!" I press my wand to my attacker's throat, ready to shoot any spell that comes to mind. "George, it's me!" The voice shatters my thoughts, and I stumble back as I recognize the girl in the cloak.
"Angelina," I whisper. She gets up and hugs me tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Her grip tightens around me as she speaks again.
"It's fine, George. Everyone's a little... tense... after the war." Her voice cracks. Her little brother, only a first year, was killed in the battle against Lord Voldemort. I kneel back next to the grave, my harsh emotions churning with the dark soil. Angelina sits next to me, slipping her hand into mine. She rests her head on my shoulder, and while that piece of comfort she gives me is small, it heals bits of my heart that have become broken and cracked. We stay there for a few moments, lost in the beauty and melancholy that surrounds the frigid cemetery.
i feel Angelina shift beside me, and I watch as she waves her wand over the grave. Soft orange flowers sprout from the first and surround the grey stone, leaving just enough room to show the words written there. A few rebellious violet flowers stray from the group, resting onto the top of the gravestone. For the first time in what feels like forever, I let my mouth curve into a smile.