Summary: Nymphadora Lupin was gone before she ever really lived, and she struggled to come to terms with it.
A/N: For Remembrance Day (or Veterans' Day) a tale about a much beloved fallen hero. Hope you enjoy it and hope you take this day to remember those who fought for their countries and what they believed was right.
Disclaimer: I own no recognizable content.
If I Die Young
If I die young, bury me in satin,
Lay me down on a bed of roses,
The sharp knife of a short life,
I've had just enough time
~If I Die Young, The Band Perry
It was raining. The day they buried her in a small magical cemetery it poured thick droplets. Her muggle relatives held umbrellas; spells repelled the water from those who used magic. Had it not been England, she may have believed that even the heavens were mourning her. But in England, rain was almost inevitable and most certainly not something special.
She wasn't sure how she was able to watch her burial. She wasn't a ghost. She had accepted her death –to a point- and therefore had been able to pass on. However, she was conscious of the fact that she was standing on the grass of the cemetery, a little off from the large group. She didn't question it too much though. Magic was mysterious; it held secrets that even an entire lifetime of study would not reveal in totality.
Instead, as she stood beneath the green branches of a large tree, her mind wandered to the events that had created the current moment. She thought of her last day. She thought of how she hadn't even thought when she had gotten the message that Voldemort was attacking Hogwarts. She thought of how she had rushed out of her mother's house, only kissing her son on the head. She hadn't said a proper goodbye, hadn't thought she would need to.
She didn't regret leaving to fight in the battle. It was her duty. She was an auror and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She was supposed to protect the innocent. She was supposed to battle against Lord Voldemort and his supporters.
What she did regret was dying. Dying before she'd had a chance to live a full life. Dying before she'd been able to raise her son. Dying with so many different experiences before her. She regretted that she'd only had a short life and died before she'd truly lived. That regret hung around her like a dark cloud, slowly darkening her vision.
A shift in the crowd drew her out of her thoughts. It seemed the service was about to begin. A small, aging wizard walked to the front of the group and stood atop a small podium. He began talking, performing a traditional wizard funeral. She wasn't paying any attention. The commencement of her funeral had stirred something in her. She felt compelled to search out those she had left. The first person who came to mind was her mother. The woman who had only a few months prior lost her husband. Her mother was now almost utterly alone.
Upon locating her mother in the crowd, she began to move towards her. Gliding elegantly through the crowd, she began to think about the emotional state her mother must be in. Parents weren't supposed to bury their children. That wasn't the way the world was supposed to work. And all of this happening so shortly after her father's murder. She had no idea how her mother was able to face such tragedy and still continue on each day. For most people, the loss of one close family member was an event akin to the end of the world. But her mother had always been stronger than most people.
When she reached her mother, she took a quick inventory. Her mother looked much smaller than she remembered. She seemed thinner and, slouching in her seat, she looked several inches shorter than normal. Her eyes were red and puffy, though no tears fell at that moment.
Looking at her mother in such a state, all she wanted to do was comfort her mother in some way. Let her know that she was okay. Let her know that she wasn't suffering. But she couldn't really do anything; she wasn't really there beside her mother. She still reached out her hand in an attempt to do something, but she knew it would be futile.
Surprise filled her eyes as her hand made contact with the soft, cotton fabric that covered her mother's shoulder. She turned to look at her mother. Surprise was clear on her features. Then, after a moment, a knowing look crossed her tired looking face and then her features reformed into a look of absolute calm. Her mother must have sensed her presence and found comfort in it. Through that touch, she must have communicated all that she wanted to her mother.
In that moment, a small fraction of the dark cloud that enshrouded her disappeared. The cloud lightened and her vision cleared slightly. She felt less regret over dying in the way she did and at the time she had.
Next, her attention turned to the small bundle resting on her mother's lap. That was her biggest regret of everything that had happened. She had left her son motherless. She wouldn't get to teach him all the important things a mother was supposed to. She wouldn't get to see him off on his first day of school. She wouldn't be able to be his mother. He would grow up without his mother and she regretted that the most.
She walked around so she was facing her mother and bent down so she was eye level with her son. She looked into his eyes, a sad and stormy grey colour, and a sad smile crossed her face. She knew he was only a few months old, but his eyes seemed to portray an understanding and awareness of the situation. His eyes looked sad.
She reached out to brush a lock of hair away from his face. His eyes turned a beautiful and vibrant green. They made him look much happier and more full of life. Another piece of darkness lifted from her as she realized that even if she wasn't able to raise him herself, her son would be just fine. He would miss things, growing up without a mother, but it wouldn't hinder him in any serious way. She was certain.
Finally, her attention shifted to the one and only man she'd ever loved. She had never thought she'd get married and settle down; she was too much of a free spirit for that. She enjoyed her freedom. She preferred not having to consider others, and the consequences for her and them, before she acted. She enjoyed being able to go where she wanted when she wanted.
And then she met him. Everything had changed for her. She no longer felt confined by simply staying in one place. She no longer felt like being in a relationship would stifle her free spirit.
Now, all she wanted to do was find him; find him and see how he was doing. She needed to let him know how much he meant to her. She needed to make sure that he was okay. She needed to see that same, calm expression on his face that her mother had. Knowing the people she'd left in this world made dying a little easier, a little less regrettable.
She scanned the sizeable crowd of people for the familiar, sandy brown hair. She thought he would have been standing near her mother, but she'd searched that area thoroughly to no avail. Her stomach dropped. Where could he be? Why wasn't he with her family? What did it mean?
She nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand made contact with her shoulder. No one should have been able to touch her. She wasn't really there; she didn't have shoulders to be touched. Slowly, she turned to see who it was.
Her heart broke.
Standing behind her, his hair nicely cut and wearing impeccable clothing, was the man she had planned to spend forever with. He had his hand on her arm and a pained expression on his face.
"I'm so sorry, Dora," was all he said, before he reached out and pulled her in to a tight embrace. But she wasn't really sorry. Even after seeing her beloved dead like her. Even after realizing that her son really would be raised without parents and all the heartache that would entail.
She wasn't sorry about her decision to rush out into battle to save the innocent. She wasn't sorry she had died doing just that. She was a little sorry she'd left her family alone, but she knew they were strong and they'd be able to get through it.
Her life may have been short, and she may have missed out on a multitude of experiences, but looking out at the crowd of people who had come to say goodbye to her and her husband made her realize what was really important. She may not have lived for long, but she'd had enough time to make a small impact on the world. And after everything was said and done, that was all she could ask for.
The end
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story. Leave me a review and let me know what you thought!