A Tribute to Those Gone—By Joseph Morse
A/N: I know, I'm not my brother. This chapter was the last chapter Nick wrote before he passed away a little over two weeks ago, August 29th, 2004, from respiratory complication (Asthma for those of you who knew him well). He was sixteen. He asked me to finish the story, and I plan to do it. In honor of my youngest brother, here is the fifth chapter to his story.
Nick, we love you and miss you terribly. You will forever be in our hearts, kiddo.
Hermione sat curled in a large overstuffed chair in her London flat, a large leather bound album in her lap. As she stared, misty-eyed and sniffling at the pages, she remembered better days; Days where they were all happy. But it was hard to do when, in half the pictures, Draco had his arm around Ginny. To anyone who didn't know what she knew, it would have looked friendly; but to Hermione, the pose reeked of betrayal and death.
With a strangled sob, she closed the large book with a snap and pushed it to the floor. She had left work early to take a personal day. Draco Malfoy's visit had rocked her to the depths of her soul. All of the notorious Gryffindor pride and bravery fled the instant he strode from her office in a swirl of black and silver cloak. She was to the point where she was more than tempted to find Malfoy Manor, go there, demand to see Malfoy, then give him a piece of her mind. Only problem was: she would probably kill him should she see him again. Great. So that left sitting here and wallowing in memories and pain. Not much of a choice if you asked her.
Ah well, her flat-mates would be back shortly and she could forget everything then; Loose herself in the mindless girly chatter and high-pitched giggles. Then again... maybe not. Frowning, Hermione stood, disrupting a very disgruntled Koen from his spot on the arm of the chair. The black and white cat hissed at her before settling back into his spot and promptly falling back to sleep. Hermione stopped for a moment to regard the large tom-cat sitting on her chair.
He had been a replacement for Crookshanks, who had, sadly, disappeared during the war. Ron had gotten Koen for her as a gift to try and console her. It hadn't been the same, but it had been a comfort; especially after Ron's death.
Shaking the thoughts from her weary mind, Hermione made her way into the bathroom, locked the door then meticulously set wards around the room to keep her flat-mates out. It wasn't that she didn't like the other three girls, but they were a little too... flighty for her comfort. Hermione knew only one of them; Lavender Brown had approached Hermione only shortly after graduation and asked whether or not Hermione would like to share a flat with two other girls, both from America, and herself. Hermione had answered quickly, knowing that she would need the comfort of the others. But now, as she shed her clothing, she was seriously re-thinking her choice.
As she slid into magically filled tub, she sighed with content, her head lolling back against the backside of the tub.
(Unfortunately, this is where my brother's part of chapter 5 ends. I'll post my half in another section. It will be labeled "Tribute- Part 2
Joe
To those of you who have story suggestions, please, feel free to e-mail me at . Thank you to everyone who has ever reviewed this story, I'm sure my brother was grateful.)
