Into Hell
She didn't like to think on it too long, the fact that he was dead. She didn't really know what it should mean, but she is sure that it wasn't meant to be like this. Wasn't meant to be as irrevocably painful, as cutting as it was. But it is, and some of the time it's stifling, so much so that she can't breath properly. Most of the time she just forgets, doesn't believe it ever really happened.
She had seen him fall of course, had seen the soft fluttering of black and heard the screams as he had hit the ground. And yet, sometimes, she thought it was a dream, a sort of waking nightmare that she had after being confronted with too much paper work. It was so improbable really, the mere suggestion of it was ludicrous, and surely he would walk through the door at any moment and tell them how stupid they all were for thinking it could happen.
He didn't, of course, and a part of her knew she was being ridiculous, but it made it better somehow, believing it didn't happen. It was easier to pretend that way, pretend that the house wasn't so quiet, as quiet as Harry had been since that day, since the fall. It made it easier to pretend that Remus wasn't decaying, falling into hell at a rate that was different than last time, and somehow too strong; too intense to merely be considered grief for a friend who had died.
But she didn't really want to think on that too long either.
AN: If you couldn't tell this is from Tonk's POV. And yes I know, it's really short.
