Filius felt Pomona tuck her hand within his; however, his attention remained riveted to the proud woman before him…and how her shoulders seemed to bow as though the weight of the world had suddenly been thrust upon them. And…in a way, it had…or at the very least, the weight of Hogwarts…and all it's precious occupants; he thought as Mr. Creevey's mother tossed a red rose upon her son's grave…a grieving husband wrapping his arms around his wife…as Minerva stood quietly behind them…a pillar of strength for the family; just like she had been for every other family…for the whole of Hogwarts, and the wizarding world. She had attended, every funeral. Even those of their former students, ones…that he couldn't even bring himself to attend; former Death Eaters...Bellatrix Lestrange, Marcus Goyle…even Tom Riddle's…showing the world that the healing needed to start, somewhere. But…as Pomona's hand squeezed his, he stared at his devout friend - she seemed, fine; even strong…resilient…but a hollowness had taken residence in the depths of her normally piercing emerald eyes; and he couldn't help but wonder…who would help her heal…? And…was there anyone left alive, whom she would accept help from…?
Xoxo
A/N: I can't take credit for the idea as it was spurred on from a conversation with a friend. Let me know if you want another open story to be worked on in between all the others…if not…