Warnings from the first chapter still apply.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

'Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.'

~ Vicki Harrison

...

~Grief~

...

Dead.

That's all I can say when I remember him. I still can't get over his loss. Its still a shock to me. People say one can't live in shock forever. But they don't understand. The pain, the loss stays with you always. When you lose someone you love, you never fully recover or return to the person you were before you lost them. You just learn to adapt the new you. But the emptiness never wilts away.

Eleven years it has been since that fateful night and I still feel like he is going to come home. Like he's just going to walk through the door. Grinning, looking at us, ruffling our hair and giving Lily a kiss, just like he always did. But I know I won't see him smiling ever again. I won't get to hug him again. Because he's dead.

That's right. My Dad.

Dead.

...

That night was just like the others. Mum and Dad kissed us goodnight and we were off to bed. I don't think we had ever known that it would be the last time he would kiss us goodnight.

When Mum dissappeared for a day or two he would always take leave from work which happened atleast a month and I would get those same lame excuses.

"She just needs some time alone, the work has been a big burden on her."

"Her friend is going through a tough time she is just helping her around."

"Mum needed some time alone, leave her at it."

'Course she would return after a day or...two but that didn't mean we didn't notice the fake smiles and laugh he gave us or just how we would sometimes find him crying as he sat in his study. James says he had heard him taking to Aunt Hermione about Mum once. There were so many things that we had noticed. So many.

Noticed but failed to consider.

...

I always got confused when Dad would hug me mummering confusing but yet soothing words, hugging me and comforting me.

' I'm sorry kiddo.'

'I'm not going to lose you Al.'

' I love you Albus.'

So many times he had hugged me close and mummered these small comforting words to me. But I know he said them to dispel his own fears. He didn't understand that he wasn't supposed to be sorry. He wasn't suppsoed to lose me and he didn't know what love was. Not if you counted this.

...

I had seen them fight and argue enough to say that it was normal. But I realise now that what happened during their arguments was far from normal. Almost insane. Inhuman.

...

I was five when I saw the first crack. They were arguing. I could hear them as I stood on the stairs waiting for the peace sign so that I could move upstairs.

"I'm sorry Ginny, but the Head of the Department's meeting is really important, I can't miss it.." I heard him apologize.

"You promised me that you would come to this game Harry..."

Now I knew what they were bickering about. Mum had this important Quidditch match tomorrow and apparently all of the family was going to watch her. If Dad was not going it would really upset her.

"Please don't be mad, love." There was this sudden desperation in his voice that my five year old mind couldn't articulate.

Smack!

Thats the sound the reached my ears and I found myself automatically moving upstairs.

"Ginny the kids-" Dad stopped himself abruptly and he saw me looking at them. To me nothing looked fishy.

Mum was standing there, adjusting his collar be she didn't look angry she looked just...normal.

"It's alright, we'll talk later." She muttered and she gave me a smile and ruffling my hair she descended downstairs leaving me with Dad.

At first he just stared at me and then rubbing his face with his hand he smiled back too.

"Hey Al."

I was five...and you know, there is joy and wonder everywhere when you look with the eyes of a kid. My five year old self wasn't able to see the lies that he fed us. But I am not a kid anymore. I know what was happening back then and the reality is just so harsh that I want to go back in believing in everything and not knowing anything at all.

...

But no matter how much I grieve or cry, the past cannot be changed, forgotten or erased. It can only be accepted.

...

I remember my first journey to platform nine and three quarters. With all those remarks and teasing from James, I was more worried than ever. I had confined my fears wth dad.

Dad, What if I am put in Slytherin?

He had smiled crouching down, looking at me. Telling me that no matter what happened I would always be loved. Even if I was a Slytherin. And even though his words had called me down, the anxiety and anxiousness retuned when I was sorted in Slytherin and as I ran up to to my dorm in the dungeons the first thing I wrote on the letter was a question. A simple question that had all my fears and worries.

You hate me now, don't you?

And his reply came immediately in the morning telling me not to be stupid. He told me how I was still his son and the Slytherin house didn't change that. The point I'm trying to prove is that he was always there for me. While James teased me to no end he would always side up with me and we would always team up together and harass James. Those are memories I cherished the most. But back then we didn't realise we were making memories, we were just having fun. It's true when one says that you don't realise the value of the moment until it becomes a memory.

...

His funeral was the worst. His coffin was laid down and for the last time in my last life I saw him face. Eyes closed and giving him a clear expression of sleeping if only you could ignore the dried bruises on his cheeks and head. His face was paler than usual. He looked calm. Almost alsleep and I held my breath as the coffin was closed and lowered down. Deep... deep under the ground, far from my sight, from form my reach. Atleast no one could hurt you there, Dad... There were wizards and withces all having solemn expression as they bid a final farewell to their saviour, to their hero. Grandma Molly was sobbing. Aunt Hermione was crying. Uncle Ron was whimpering. Uncle George and Aunt Angelina were comforting Grandma Molly. Uncle Bill supported a sobbing Aunt Fleur. Teddy stood with her fiancé Victoire. Grandpa Arthur stood with Uncle Charlie and with the rest of the Weasley Family.. Everyone was present except her. She didn't deserve to stand here not when she was the reason we all were gathered today. James stood beside me. Lily had her head buried on Aunt Audrey's shoulders as Uncle Percy mummerd words to her. It was when the moment when his coffin was throughly burried, I broke down and with me went down James. The sudden sickening realisation that he was truly gone and never to come back hit the hardest. There would be no more morning spend with him. He was gone but not forgotten. But it doesn't changes the fact I wouldn't have anyone to complain to about James. He wouldn't be here to scold James when he went off pranking. He no longer would be here to play dress-up with Lily. No more evenings would be spent by his side as his voice would lull us to sleep. There would be nothing. I felt so empty. But yet I still felt like it was just a big bad dream. A nightmare that now live in everyday.

Suddenly I was in the arms of Aunt Hermione and she held me and James as we both cried and she didn't stop us nor did she mummerd those lies of ' it'll get better' and 'its okay' , she just cried with us instead.

...

My second year at Hogwarts at Hogwarts was filled with pity, condolences and grief. There would always be students whispering as I would walk down the hallways and corridors. James altogether stopped pranking. 'Pranking wouldn't bring him back, would it?' He'd say. It took him months to come out of his depression. He still blames himself for his death. I just wish he wouldn't. Dad wouldn't have wanted this. Afterall he wanted us to have a normal childhood, the one he was deprived of. But to be honest I think the moment he was gone our childhood had started wilting away.

May wizards and witches came to me offering consoledence with promise that they understood what we were going through. But in reality they don't. Because that day on 15th July 2018 they buried the Boy-who-lived, their Chosen One but we buried our Dad. Who was murdered. Right on front of his eldest son.

They said that it gets better. But when?

They said that everything gets okay. But it won't. Everyday will just an reminder of what I lost.

They said that it's okay. But it isn't. My Dad dying is not okay. Its far from okay.

It doesn't get better when people keep throwing you pitiful glances and smiles reminding you of what you've lost.

Everything isn't okay when his death keeps haunting you in your dreams.

And it's not okay for me to believe that everything will be alright. Because it won't. Beacuse nothing can be alright. I lost him and I lost everything. I lost my hero. I lost my idol. I lost my guide. I think hardest part of losing someone isn't having to say goodbye,but rather learning to live without them, always trying to fill the void, the empitness, left inside your heart when they go.

Eleven years and I still feel like he's going to come home, grinning riffling each of our hair and then bending down to give Lily a kiss. But he won't.

And all I can do now is grief. Because he is dead.

Thats right. My Dad.

Dead.

...

My friends say that I'm really good at writing Tragic fics and stories so I decided to try my hands at this.

Please do tell me how this was! Constructive criticism is always welcomed! Next Chapter will be in Lily's Point of view.