I stared at my shoes as I walked down the street where we used to live, down to the little café we always used to go to. When I got there, I got a coffee, sitting where we used to. Watching the teenaged couples in the booth, I felt so old. I just wished I was getting old with you.
I stared at your old spot and reminisced about you. The memory that came to mind first was when we discovered this place. We had been walking home when it had started to rain. We'd ran in here, holding hands, laughing. We sat in the seats I was sitting in, and we talked about the future. We'd decided on having twin boys, Leo Narcissus and Scorpius James, first, followed by a girl, Rosalind Alexis. I can still remember how you laughed at some of the names we suggested.
I got up and left, the coffee only half drank. I walked back to our old apartment, the one we bought together about a year after we started going out. I unlocked the door and walked in quietly and went to go to bed. I opened the wardrobe, and saw your old clothes. They were still in the closet, as I'd never had the heart to get rid of them. I pulled on your old sweatpants and one of your t-shirts. Going out to the living room, I stared at the fireplace, remembering the day it happened.
I'd been sitting in the same spot, staring into the fire, when it'd turned green, and Hermione's head appeared.
"Get to St. Mungo's, quickly!" she'd yelled. I jumped up and did just that.
The doctor had walked up to me then, and told me you weren't coming home. I didn't believe him, and told him so. He then showed you to me. Your skin was so pale, so cold. My heart broke that day.
I also remembered the funeral a few days after that. I'd been one of the pallbearers. I could barely see through the tears that day. It was a dark day, which was fitting - you, the light of my life, were gone.
I shook myself out of the memories, becoming aware of the tears on my cheeks. I fingered the ring I had on a chain around my neck. It was the ring I was going to give you the next day.
The only thing I had, and have, to say about your death was, and is, "Why you?"