It's been a year.

Already?

Today?

Huh. You'd think I'd remember something like that.

Doesn't take a rocket scientist, really, to figure it out. Just a calendar.

But then, I've been avoiding calendars since…

God. I can't even say it.

Since he died.

There, now, that wasn't so hard.

He died, he died, he died.

No.

This is wrong.

Saying it over and over

he'd dead he's dead he'd dead he's dead he's dead he's dead he's dead he's dead he's dead he's dead

doesn't do anything. Doesn't help at all.

I've been such a baby… All his fault.

Shouldn't have died.

Asshole.

I liked him better when I could talk to him.

Now I have to wait 'til I die to figure out what the hell this little, um, "word" here is supposed to be.

I'm not very good at this.

Mourning, I mean.

You're supposed to cry and stuff, right?

I haven't cried in years, not since I…my…

You're not gonna get me to say that one,

The important thing is that he is

DEAD

not the last time I cried.

Anyway, the point is, I didn't cry

when he died.

I yelled a lot

and broke things

lots of things

but I never cried.

I guess I figured he wouldn't want me to.

But then, how could I know that?

No matter what either of us thought, I didn't know him that well.

Not for lack of trying.

He just never really talked to me.

But you know?

I loved him anyway.

Not a lot, I guess, but love is love.

Heh. Saying that makes me wonder if he loved me, too.

It doesn't really matter.

It shouldn't matter.

So why do I care so much?

He'd laugh at me if he heard this.

I wish he could hear this.

He did have a beautiful laugh…

Hey…

I'm not getting…teary, am I?

Not after spending a whole year without him and not crying once, I'm not.

Not a chance in hell.

I'd never forgive myself.

Not that I'll ever forgive myself for not being there for him…

But that's––

Oh, shit.

I'm just about out of time.

Well, my dear old friend,

I must say

Goodbye.

--

Author's Note: I was trying my best to get it exactly 365 words (for a year and all, ne?), but I'm four words over. Anyone care? Good.

So, I know it's hard to understand, so I guess I'll explain: It's just someone (Harry, Remus, Rubeus, Cho, Severus, Nymphadora, Neville, Narcissa, Insert Person Here) reflecting on someone else (Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric James, Draco, Insert Dead Man Here) one year (obviously) after their death. Yes, it's vague, but it could be anyone. Take your pick.

-clutches SPIN magazine- My god, it smells like AXE. Freaky.