She had always loved him, really she had. Never before had someone captured her so entirely and with so much passion as he had.
As she sat staring at the gray stone before her, she watched, entranced, as the rainwater gathered in the name written on the stone and slowly tumbled down leaving a sad, sodden mark in its wake.
Rain. It's a curious thing to behold. Clouds gather pressure and can take no more therefore spilling their contents below. Some claim sunshine brings happiness; but they, of course, have never danced in the rain. But how about those standing still, or merely walking? For those it's said they love the rain because it masks their tears.
Falling, falling, falling.
She sat for hours in front of the tombstone; mud splashing her dress but taking no notice to anything but the indentation of his name. Softly she leaned forward and pressed her finger to the first letter and ever so slowly traced the grooves back and forth and back and forth until her hand finally slid down and landed with a soft thud on top of the white rose she had laid down earlier. She started as she felt a prick and looked upon her palm where the crimson of her blood dripped and mingled with the water running furiously down her wrist.
Falling, falling, falling.
He had saved her be; in every possible way a person could be saved. He was her constant in everything around her and for that she would always love him. Always. With the smell of death all around her, every waking hour, and the pressure to stay alive, to fight for your life and the lives of those you love, she was drowning. Gasping for air that would not come despite everything she tried. Without him she would have climbed to the top and stood mesmerized before flying down with no one to save her, and no one to care.
Falling.
With each one of his remarkable, derogatory comments her love for him grew, because even in hate, she was the focus of someone's attention; someone cared. She didn't realize until after it was too late, until right before she came to a jeering stop before his grave that she had fallen, deeper than she ever had or ever would.
She looked up to the sky and shut her eyes, letting the water cleanse her, letting his presence wash over her.
So many people had died that she no longer felt saddened by the feeling of emptiness. She had no more room left in her heart to weep for those who hadn't buried their way in and refused to take leave. For those with a permanent residency within her had left her in tears every night since she had lost them.
Harry and Dumbledore and him; the three main men in her life whom she could never see again. The first bringing her a friendship that no other could ever come close to. The second introducing her into the world she belonged. And the last, bringing her love with nothing but the hope that came with it and the undying want.
After all, the love that lasts the longest in the love that is never returned. And that is what he had given her.
She stood to take her leave, walking slowing away. She took one final look back at what was left of the man who had changed her life.
Silently, two tears fell down her cheeks, a hot, furious one down her left, and a slow drip rolled down her right. Both gathered at her chin and left as quickly as they came, down to the ground, making themselves indistinguishable from the rain that was her disguise.
Falling, falling, falling….
A/N: I kind of liked this even though it was sadand a little pointless. I wrote it right after I had finished watching Titanic, which is where I got the vibe. It's only a one-shot but it's my first so let me know what you think.