The Five Stages of Death
(Summary: People who die sometimes do not have times to go through the five stages of death, therefore their loves ones do it for them. Hannah Abbott figured that out the hard way.)
(A/N: For an extra credit assignment at The Third Corridor Forums.)
Denial
Hannah Abbott had never denied anything in her life. When she believed in something, she believed it and she would let someone know it. This, however…
This was different.
This was very different.
"I'm sorry," the words were spoken with such tenderness, but such hollowness if they could ever be spoken with both.
She couldn't help but hear the words and think what are they sorry for? What happened? What are they talking about? She knew. God, did she know, but for some reason, it never computed in her mind. She blinked it away for a moment and a strange, crooked, frighteningly pale smile fell upon her face.
"G-good joke," she said, a half giggle escaping her throat, just enough to make her pigtails bob. "Very funny. Now where is she?"
"Hannah, your mother is dead. The Death Eaters killed her." She could tell that the woman was trying to be caring, but was growing impatient. Perhaps this shouldn't be her field of work if she grows impatient with children.
The words the woman said trickled through her ears but did not remain in her head. They were shoved out by a wall of thoughts that kept scary things away. She'd used them that one time her baby blanket had been incidentally shredded. Her mother had sewed it back together soon after that.
"Hannah," the woman gave a sigh that disguised her frustration and grabbed the young woman's hands, "You need to come with us. You need to come see your mother. She's dead, Hannah."
Why does this woman use my name so much? I should have my own chocolate frog card.
Those thoughts crowded out her words again.
"Hannah, would you like to see a priest? Would you like to see Dumbledore? Hannah?"
This woman annoys me. I wish she'd go away. This joke is not funny anymore.
"Hannah?"
I wish she'd stop saying my name. I don't have to take this.
And with that thought in mind, she turned around and she walked away, without even bidding a farewell to the woman. It didn't matter anyway. She was just joking. It was just a joke. Her mother being dead? It was laughable. That's why it was a joke. She could just go back to Herbology and have no problem whatsoever. Then Christmas would come and she'd go home and she'd see her mother hanging stockings on the fireplace.
She never managed to make the steps back to Herbology however. She just waltzed right up the stairs and into the Hufflepuff common room. For about five minutes, she merely stood there and watched the empty fireplace. They should hang stockings over these fireplaces too. Then she dragged herself up the stairs and opened the door to her room and unlatched her trunk. Then she started pulling her clothes out the drawers and placing them in the trunk.
I'll go on a little vacation with my mom. I've had a really rough time this year. After being so stressed out for so long, she just wants me home for a little while. Lots of people are going home. I can too.
She began packing the little bobbles and trinkets that she carried with her, including her prefect badge that she'd held on to over the past year and her Support Cedric Diggory! badge that she'd bought two years before. She could remember when Cedric died. She'd seen that. There was no joke there. She'd seen him dead on the ground next to that battered and bruised Harry Potter. The Dark Lord himself had killed Cedric Diggory, but he'd had his reasons. Cedric was with Harry so Cedric deserved to die in the Dark Lord's eyes. Her mother didn't have a reason. No one would kill her.
So, obviously, no one had.
She would just go on vacation with her Mum, come back, finish her year, and become Head Girl of Hufflepuff House next year. A good, stress-relieving vacation would do her good, and she'd be back and ready for school by the time she returned. That frighteningly pale smile played on her features again as she finished her packing and closed her trunk. She pointed her wand at it, enchanted it to follow her, then headed back down the stairs, her trunk floating behind her quietly.
Herbology had been a rough class for her. It was a relief she could leave it. After last year, she'd had trouble facing the teacher. She'd nearly fainted! It was hard to face. She knew she should tell Ernie goodbye, but being called out of class would only raise suspicion. She didn't want people to ask about this silly little joke. They could be jealous of her vacation. She decided that she'd write him a letter once she got home. She left a chocolate frog in his favorite chair with a small note with To Ernie on it, just to suffice for the time being. She climbed out of the portrait hole and continued down the corridor.
It's too bad Ernie can't go with us. He's very fun to be around.
That woman showed up again. She'd been waiting for her.
"Good, you have your things. Hannah, would you like to speak to Dumbledore before we go?"
Hannah stared at her as if she'd grown horns. Why did this lady have to keep showing up?
"This isn't funny anymore," she said.
"Hannah, this is not a joke. The Death Eaters killed your mother."
Then it flashed in her mind. I was in Dumbledore's Army.
But that wouldn't be enough of a reason would it? After all, her mother didn't know. They wouldn't go after her mother.
"Hannah, I know it's hard to believe, but your mother is dead," the lady said, eyes sad with a false understanding.
A small silence pursued as Hannah stared at the woman. The words finally trickled in and settled. All other thoughts shied away from it immediately, leaving it the only words in her mind. Your mother is dead.