Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them.
Title: Of Love and Dying
Summary: After the war those who are left, are left to mourn. HG/RW, RL/NT, AW/MW, GW/HP (in that order)
A/N: This idea came to be rather suddenly. I wrote the last chapter first, but they really have no set order, and are all little glances into the lives of the survivors of the second war. They are all finished, so if you have any questions or are confused, feel free to leave a comment and I'll answer them in an added on last chapter. Happy reading and reviewing (wink wink).
Oh, and if you're like me and like to skip over quotes. DON'T! They're actually important to the stories.
For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.
-James Baldwin
Of Love and Dying
Chapter 1 – Hermione and Ron
Is this the world? I cannot picture how the next 50 years of my life will go. The past 10 have been difficult enough to comprehend without another half a century looming before me without seeing that vibrant hair. Tears stain my pillow every night, a stream I cannot stem nor have the energy too.
It is only when my son Edward, now nine years old, crawls into my bed late at night after having a nightmare and cuddles up to me, do I get any sleep. His auburn hair no where near the vibrant color of his father's, but so special in its own way.
I wrap my arms around his tiny body, smiling. He would never let his friends know about this secret habit that he's had since he could walk. I hold on to it for as long as possible because these days will be gone soon. I'll be alone here in London, with only the Ministry and my friends to keep me occupied during the day, and nothing to keep me strong at night.
I fall asleep after midnight with this small man in my arms, dreaming of how it would be with another adult-size body on the other side of us, and I don't bother to try to hold in the tears, it's just easier to get them over with. He only knew his son for a year, and this thought is what I cannot keep my mind from drifting to, it is this thought that causes my heart to feel as if it is being wrenched from my chest.
I wonder if it will take another 10 years before I am over this, or if I will cry myself to sleep for the rest of my life. Until my heart has healed, and I pray that it is healing, I will dream of red hair and freckles and the gift that I have in my arms.