Title: No One Mourns the Wicked
Rating: T
Summary: No one mourns the wicked... Or do they...?
Genre: Angst
Other: Written for MysteriousFlower's 'A Very Musical Challenge.' Chosen song was No One Mourns The Wicked from Wicked. T for some religious themes.
Let us be glad
Let us be grateful
Let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue
The wicked workings of you-know-who
Isn't it nice to know
That good will conquer evil?
She kneels before the body, before bowing and speaking the Hail Mary. She doesn't have much hope that it would truly work, for religion had never been a strong belief of hers. But it was worth the try, if only for her darling child. She can't remember where she learnt it, it must've been when she took sanctuary in that queer little church, a quiet little place in the middle of the bustling city. Sometimes, she thinks it's fate. Other times, it's just a strange quirk of coincidence. She gives a bitter laugh, before thinking that she would have more luck appalling to the Buddha, but even so, she doesn't want her darling child to be re-incarnated as a slug, or left to rot in the abyss of hell.
Or perhaps it was all different matter. Heaven wouldn't taken her darling child, and hell would probably be too scared of him trying to take over. Before her darling little boy had committed all those travesties, he had been an adorable, precocious child. She only wished that she could have been there for him. She only wished that she could have been stronger...
She remembers a Muggle play she once went to see with... him. She remembers, bitterly, of a few lines, forever imprinted into her memory.
No one mourns the Wicked.
But she did, and she had every right to, for he was her darling little boy. Life was akin to a never ending maze, with traps scattered all across; named sins. Others would try to stop you from reaching the end, others would help you, and sometimes, you would have to help others. Sometimes you get stuck in a dead end, and need rescuing, sometimes you lead others astray. It was impossible for no one to mourn the Wicked, for even the Wicked had ones who loved them...
No one lays a lily on their grave...
She didn't need to. Carnations and sweat peas were what she lay. To her, they signified much more then what lilies did. Lilies were purity, innocence. She had neither.
The good man scorns the Wicked!
Then she would rather not be the 'good' man, for she scorned him not, and loved him as mother did her son.
Luna Lovegood opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that she was standing in front of the last remains of what was a fire. She gave a sad smile, for it seemed that the restless spirits that lurked had finished their business. Gently, she placed down a lily next to the already left flowers.
"Merope Gaunt... Rest in peace..."
Fin.
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A/N
The flower definitions are from Hanakotoba, lit. flower word.
According to Wikipedia, carnations are disappointment and sweat peas are goodbye.