A/N: Written for round two of Fire The Canon's Fanfiction Tournament
He picks up the quill, examines it, rolls it between his fingers... just stalling. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know where to begin. He's always hated the beginnings: the beginning of the day, a story, a relationship. The beginnings are always the hardest, the most tiresome and frustrating part. The beginnings that require risk and chance and he was far too careful for that. He didn't want the beginnings, he wanted everything afterword. So, he always found ways to skip the introduction, the greeting, and get straight into the content.
Lily's second birthday today, she seemed to enjoy it. She was dancing around and managed to get her cake squashed into James' face. She's going to be something when she's older. Back to school tomorrow, third year. Not sure if I'm excited, heard third year was pretty hard.
XxxxxX
It's getting chilly. You know your life is boring when you start out talking about the weather. Nothing's really happening. I think this first year fancies me, she keeps following me around everywhere. I think it's the blue hair. Now, only if that worked on Vic… Oh, it's Halloween today, happy Halloween.
XxxxxxX
I think there's something wrong with Gran, she's not acting like herself. I mean, you can't really tell through letters, but…there is definitely something off. She's not lecturing me about my grades, behavior, anything. I think I should ask Harry to check up on her. I mean, she's getting—. Nope, forget it. It's going to be okay. On the bright side, it started snowing today and Vic and I went to Hogesmade together (it wasn't a date, mind you, there were ten other people with us…but still).
XxxxxxX
It's almost Christmas and
He stops writing. He's done. He can't do this anymore. He wanted to pretend, pretend that everything was normal. And maybe, in a few years' time, when he's reading through these letters, maybe he would have forgotten. Forgotten this feeling, the never ending feeling of grief, sadness, and loss.
Darkness. Misery. Death. How it surrounds, consumes, and wraps itself around him. For brief, nanosecond moments, the grief stopped. Then the sadness and denial hit again, harder than before, just waiting for him to fail, testing his limits, pushing how much pain he could feel before bursting.
He ran, it was the only thing he could think to do. He ran hard and fast, panting harder and harder, but still not-still not stopping. Stopping meant facing the truth. His aching legs and racing heart provided yet another distraction, but he was running out of distractions.
She was dead.
Dead.
The thought he had been thinking the entire time but had been trying so hard to ignore consumed him.
Gran was dead.
She was gone.
He was still here.
He hated the feelings associated with beginnings, hated the uncertainty; hated that they only came about because of an end. He always found ways to escape beginnings, but he couldn't find a way out of this one.
Now, he had to face a life without Gran. Now, he had to experience a different world, a different life, without Gran. He didn't know how he could avoid this beginning.
He couldn't escape this one…and it scared him and distressed him…and damn-it he just wanted her back.
