For the Climb to the Top of Mount Potter Challenge (half)


"We have to go back in there," Gregory says angrily.

He knows how stupid his words are. But that's him. Always the stupid one, always the slow one. He knows what the others say about him, and maybe it's true.

But he also knows that he's always had Vincent by his side. Somehow, that has always been enough. It's a lot less lonely being different when someone else is there, just as different as you are.

"Are you insane?" Draco demands, his brows raised. "He's gone, Goyle. There's no coming back from that."

It's true. He wishes it wasn't, but there is no denying it. The cursed fire rages on. If Vincent is somehow still alive in there, he won't be for much longer. Going back in to try and save him would be a suicide mission.

"He was my friend."

Draco scowls. "Get a new one."

Gregory feels his body turn cold. His hands tremble. For years, he and Vincent would follow Draco around like faithful puppies. And now Draco has the nerve to say something like that? If Gregory were smarter, he'd hex him. If his head were clearer, he'd punch him.

But all he can do is fall to his knees, blinking back tears.

There aren't many people at the funeral. Maybe that's okay. Vincent never liked people, and he would have hated a crowd.

Gregory approaches the casket, biting the inside of his cheek as he runs his fingers over the sleek mahogany. Vincent's body was never recovered. The casket is empty. Somehow, this hurts him more than it would to see his best friend lying inside, resting forever inside the satin-lined box.

"I didn't mean what I said, you know."

Gregory turns. He wonders how long Draco has been standing there beside him.

"He was my friend, too," Draco continues. "I was angry that night. Angry at him for being so stupid. "I know you aren't going to just move on. He was your best friend."

Gregory smiles bitterly. Best friend. Somehow, the word seems like an understatement. Vincent was like his other half. He was the only one who understood Gregory, who never judged him for not being smart or for sometimes being mean.

He could search and search to find someone else like that, but it would never work. He thinks that maybe Vincent was the only real friend he'd ever have. Now he's gone, and Gregory is alone.

Choking on a sob, Gregory leans forward, resting his head against the casket. He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want Draco's words. He just wants Vincent back.

He pulls away, wiping his eyes, and he laughs. Vincent would hate him if he saw Gregory crying like this. He'd tell him he's being weak.

Maybe he is. It's normal to be sad over something like this, but Vincent would tell him that that's no excuse.

"Sorry," he mutters.

Draco stares at him, his brows knitting together in confusion. "For what?"

"Wasn't talking to you," Gregory says simply before walking away without explanation.

Draco wouldn't understand, anyway. No one would ever understand him again, not the way Vincent had.