Warning for a mental breakdown and grief.
"This is ridiculous," Blaise complained. "A pointless, mindless activity." He scowled as another gust of wind bit his face. "It's bloody September, Theo. How are flowers even still alive?"
Theo glanced at him over his shoulder, looking reproachful. "I find it calming," he said. "There's something peaceful about picking flowers."
"Apart from the fact that has no meaning?"
"Astoria liked picking flowers," Theo said softly and Blaise stiffened as a picture of Astoria flashed before his eyes. Her flushed cheeks, the way she threw back her head when she laughed. She had been golden, honeyed sunlight, and everyone had been drawn to her beauty, captivated by her easy nature. Even Blaise, who had walls around him, had let them down just for her.
Grief like none other washed over Blaise and he looked away, tears stinging his eyes. A few moments later, a handful of flowers fell into his lap. Warm, rough hands cupped his cheeks and moved his head so that he was looking into a dark set of eyes.
"Are you okay?" Theo asked, his breath fanning over Blaise's lips. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?"
"You brought her up," Blaise said defensively.
"I know, and I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
Blaise's lips trembled before he whispered, "Take my hand and never let go."
Theo didn't question him, and Blaise was grateful. He didn't want to talk, just succumb to the grief for a little while, but he had Theo as an anchor to the real world.
The funeral had been beautiful but simple, the way Astoria had lived. Draco refused to let anyone carry it down the aisle, with the exception of himself. He held his head high, his face blank, and levitated his wife's coffin. Twelve-year-old Scorpius trailed behind him, his head bowed — he did not try to hide his sadness as his father was doing. Tears crawled down his cheeks and he looked even paler than he had before.
Blaise remembered hugging both the boy and his father after the ceremony and the burial, murmuring his condolences.
"She...she would've loved this," he'd said.
Draco nodded somberly. "Thank you," he'd said, a tremor creeping into his voice — they were old friends, and Draco always opened up a bit around him. "Thank you for coming."
Blaise bowed his head, just like he'd seen young Scorpius do, and clung to the memory of Astoria until Theo squeezed his hand.
"Talk to me."
He wasn't ready, but it was Theo. Theo, who loved him and wouldn't judge him.
"It was so hard saying goodbye," he said, a lump forming in his throat. "Astoria wasn't supposed to die...but that cruel blood curse took her from us. From Draco and Scorpius. Why did she have to go? Why her?"
"Because Death operates ruthlessly," Theo said. "Because Death doesn't care who he takes, as long as he has a business."
"Damn Death." Blaise clenched his other hand, the one that wasn't occupied by Theo's. "Damn you!"
He'd never felt this emotional before, but the fresh burst of memories was causing him to curse Death's name and break down in Theo's arms. He was falling apart, and — and —
"Blaise!" Restraining arms wrapped around Blaise and his face was pressed into Theo's shoulder. Unshed tears finally broke loose and he wept uncontrollably.
He cried for Astoria, for Death's merciless methods, for a past unearthed. He cried for Draco and Scorpius and Daphne and everyone else he'd ever lost.
"Goodbye."
584 words
I did not intend for this to get as dark as it did. I have no idea how close the Slytherins were in school, if they were friends, but Harry was so obsessed with Malfoy he didn't pay attention to anything or anyone else.
Written for:
Assignment 4, Poetry Studies Task 1: Write about something that builds up an emotion.
Auction: TheoBlaise (20-1)
Skyscraper, Floor One: (action) picking flowers
Pick a Wick: 30. Storm Watch
Build a Better Breakfast: 34. Cinnamon
Founder Says - Helga: "Take my hand and never let go."
1000 - 628. Overwhelmed
