~*A/N: This is a very short little songfic that I wrote. The muse hit me,
and this is what came out. After all, the song was playing on my CD player
at the time and well... it's a beautiful song. Sadly, "Fly" By Celine Dion
does not belong to me, and neither do any of the characters mentioned.
Drat! Hope you enjoy!*~
There was a solemn silence in the air. White pansies danced in the September breeze, and a man stood alone on the hill. Alone where the present knew no future and only the past, a tear slid down the man's cheek. He brushed it away angrily, and flung it to the ground at his feet. At least the pansies still grew, he thought. At least there would always be something to look after. It was comforting.. reassuring.. but it didn't bring her back. And as he looked out to an endless sky, he missed her and wished her well.
Fly, fly little wing
Fly beyond imagining
The softest cloud, the whitest dove
Upon the wind of heaven's love
Past the planets and the stars
Leave this lonely world of ours
Escape the sorrow and the pain
And fly again
Lord Voldemort had taken her. He was lucky to be out alive, he assured himself, but thinking it didn't stop the loss from seeping in through the cracks. Regret at not being there when it had happened, guilt at not being able to stop it and incredible blinding loss washed over the man on the hill. She'd been the only one who understood. The only one who ever truly believed in him. In his goals and fears, dreams and morals. She'd been the only woman he'd ever truly loved aside from Ginny. Well, Hermione of course. But that was different, and he knew it. A sob nearly escaped him, but he choked it back. No, he argued with himself. He would not cry. She would have told him to be strong. But how could he be strong, when all that he'd needed in life was lost?
Fly, fly precious one
Your endless journey has begun
Take your gentle happiness
Far too beautiful for this
Cross over to the other shore
There is peace forevermore
But hold this mem'ry bittersweet
Until we meet
He removed the blade from his pocket. Sharp it was, and clear as crystal was the handle. It had been hers and in her will she'd given it to him. So much a part of him, but so much separate. He twirled the silver and glass dagger between his fingers, then palmed the handle and jabbed it into the ground. It missed the headstone, but narrowly. He looked out to the horizon just as the sun set. The sky turned a mass of orange, pink, blue and purple. He watched, unblinking, as day turned to dusk, and dusk to night. He watched, and he thought of the countless times he'd done this with her. Sat in this very spot. The countless times he would never have again.
Fly, fly do not fear
Don't waste a breath, don't shed a tear
Your heart is pure, your soul is free
Be on your way, don't wait for meAbove the universe you'll climb
On beyond the hands of time
The moon will rise, the sun will set
But I won't forget
He stooped low to run his fingers across the cool stone. Tracing letter after letter, he wondered what he would do now. She'd been gone for only a week. Already he was like a lost boy. He tossed and turned at night, reaching for her though he knew she wouldn't be there. And when he woke and descended the steps, he could almost smell her perfume. Could just barely taste the soft kiss they would certainly have shared. The man sat, his red hair blowing with the pansies. He removed the blade from the grass, kissed it and placed it once more in his pocket. It was all he had left, really. The only personal thing, anyway. Something they'd shared before.. His eyes misted, and he let go. He let her go.
Fly, fly little wing
Fly where only angels sing
Fly away, the time is right
Go now, find the light
"Molly," he whispered. "I love you." And as Arthur Weasley raised his head, he could almost hear her familiar voice say it back. It made him smile, and he headed back down the hill toward home.
There was a solemn silence in the air. White pansies danced in the September breeze, and a man stood alone on the hill. Alone where the present knew no future and only the past, a tear slid down the man's cheek. He brushed it away angrily, and flung it to the ground at his feet. At least the pansies still grew, he thought. At least there would always be something to look after. It was comforting.. reassuring.. but it didn't bring her back. And as he looked out to an endless sky, he missed her and wished her well.
Fly, fly little wing
Fly beyond imagining
The softest cloud, the whitest dove
Upon the wind of heaven's love
Past the planets and the stars
Leave this lonely world of ours
Escape the sorrow and the pain
And fly again
Lord Voldemort had taken her. He was lucky to be out alive, he assured himself, but thinking it didn't stop the loss from seeping in through the cracks. Regret at not being there when it had happened, guilt at not being able to stop it and incredible blinding loss washed over the man on the hill. She'd been the only one who understood. The only one who ever truly believed in him. In his goals and fears, dreams and morals. She'd been the only woman he'd ever truly loved aside from Ginny. Well, Hermione of course. But that was different, and he knew it. A sob nearly escaped him, but he choked it back. No, he argued with himself. He would not cry. She would have told him to be strong. But how could he be strong, when all that he'd needed in life was lost?
Fly, fly precious one
Your endless journey has begun
Take your gentle happiness
Far too beautiful for this
Cross over to the other shore
There is peace forevermore
But hold this mem'ry bittersweet
Until we meet
He removed the blade from his pocket. Sharp it was, and clear as crystal was the handle. It had been hers and in her will she'd given it to him. So much a part of him, but so much separate. He twirled the silver and glass dagger between his fingers, then palmed the handle and jabbed it into the ground. It missed the headstone, but narrowly. He looked out to the horizon just as the sun set. The sky turned a mass of orange, pink, blue and purple. He watched, unblinking, as day turned to dusk, and dusk to night. He watched, and he thought of the countless times he'd done this with her. Sat in this very spot. The countless times he would never have again.
Fly, fly do not fear
Don't waste a breath, don't shed a tear
Your heart is pure, your soul is free
Be on your way, don't wait for meAbove the universe you'll climb
On beyond the hands of time
The moon will rise, the sun will set
But I won't forget
He stooped low to run his fingers across the cool stone. Tracing letter after letter, he wondered what he would do now. She'd been gone for only a week. Already he was like a lost boy. He tossed and turned at night, reaching for her though he knew she wouldn't be there. And when he woke and descended the steps, he could almost smell her perfume. Could just barely taste the soft kiss they would certainly have shared. The man sat, his red hair blowing with the pansies. He removed the blade from the grass, kissed it and placed it once more in his pocket. It was all he had left, really. The only personal thing, anyway. Something they'd shared before.. His eyes misted, and he let go. He let her go.
Fly, fly little wing
Fly where only angels sing
Fly away, the time is right
Go now, find the light
"Molly," he whispered. "I love you." And as Arthur Weasley raised his head, he could almost hear her familiar voice say it back. It made him smile, and he headed back down the hill toward home.