TW: Grief/loss, angst
A/M: I'm afraid grief is going to be a bit of a red thread in this story, as it's 8th year and this is the first Christmas after the war.
This part starts out pretty sad/heavy, but ends on a sweet note
ooo
Gregory gazed across the water, an anxious, heavy sort of energy writhing in his stomach.
Earlier that day Draco had handed him a piece of parchment with a time and location, muttering "Hermione asked me to pass this on to anyone I think would like to come. It's mostly us eighth years, but I think there will be a few younger students, too." And, when Greg had looked at him questioningly, eyebrows pinched in confusion, he shrugged and added. "Something about celebrating the lives of those we lost. It was Longbottom's idea I think."
Greg wasn't going to go. It sounded like something where people like him would not be welcome. But then Ginny had told him that she would go, and something about the way she had been chewing her bottom lip, her pale features a flurry of nerves and heartache, had changed his mind. He wanted to be there for her. Even if it was just to hold her hand.
There weren't many of them. As Draco had predicted, it was mainly the eighth years, and a few others like Ginny, Luna Lovegood, Dennis Creevy, and a young Ravenclaw that Greg didn't recognise by name. They were all standing staring at the water, with nervous looks on their faces, as they waited for someone to explain why they were here.
But then Neville Longbottom peeled himself away from his spot next to the Patil twins and stepped in front of them, clearing his throat noisily, before he spoke up. "Alright… erm…you're probably all wondering why you're here." He shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, looking awfully shy and nervous all of a sudden. Greg furrowed his brows. He hadn't seen the tall Gryffindor this nervous since their combined Potion's lessons in fifth year when Snape used to bully the hell out of him.
"Well…" Neville continued. "The other day Parvati and Padma told me about this Muggle tradition their dad mentioned once… anyway, we thought it would be nice to do something similar here." He shot a quick glance at Parvati, her face as white as a sheet and eyes sparkling with unshed tears, as she gave Neville a single nod. "Er…right… well, Parvati wasn't feeling up to explaining it all, so she asked me to do it instead." Another nervous glance towards the twins. "So basically, we light candles and float them out onto the water in memory of those we lost." He finished somewhat lamely.
There was a long silence while several people shook their heads and pinched their eyebrows in confusion.
"I think that's a really nice idea, Neville." Hermione spoke up and cast the wizard a sad, yet encouraging smile. "It's a very common thing amongst Muggles to light candles for the departed, and most of them will have at least a vague version of this tradition represented in their culture. Some of them say that the light of the candle is to guide the departed soul to their next destination, others use them to celebrate the life the soul has already lived, and others yet light them as a symbol that the departed will never be forgotten." Her smile faltered a little and she blew out a shaky breath; eyes gleaming brightly as she added "My…uhm… my mum used to light a candle on my Nan's birthday every year."
"Right." Neville said, offering Hermione a thankful smile. "So anyway, that's…err, that's why we're here." He waved his wand to summon a large box filled with miniature paper lanterns, that were decorated with flower petals and each held a small candle in the centre; but it was Parvati who broke away from the crowd first and approached the box.
Greg could see her hands shake all the way from his spot near the far right of the crowd, as she picked up a soft pink lantern and put her wand to it.
"I – incendio." She muttered, but nothing happened. She tried again, still nothing, and Greg felt a twinge of empathy for the dark-haired witch; knowing that sometimes, when witches and wizards were in great emotional turmoil, it could become difficult for them to channel and control their magic.
It wasn't until Ginny approached her, placing a kind hand onto Parvati's shoulder as she put her own wand to the candle wick, that the lantern lit up; bright and beautiful.
Parvati declined her head gratefully towards Ginny, who in return gave her a sideways hug, before stepping back and re-joining the rest of the crowd.
They all watched as Parvati pulled something out of her pocket that looked like a delicate friendship bracelet and tied it to the candle with shaking fingers; collectively holding their breaths, as the grieving witch approached the water and crouched down.
She let out a small sob, lips quivering violently as she lowered the candle gently into the water and gave it a light push.
"Miss you, Lav." She choked out, a raggedy breath falling from her lips as she turned away and walked back to the crowd, where she let herself fall into her sister's arms and began to sob uncontrollably.
Several people were sniffling quietly as they all watched Padma comfort her sister, while some of the braver ones took Parvati's lead and began to pick out their candles.
The rest of the ceremony was a quiet affair, as one by one, people walked up to the water and lit up their candles; some of them adding things that reminded them of their loved ones, others stopping to say a few words, but most of them just sobbing quietly, as they let their tears run freely.
Greg stood and observed quietly, as they all said their goodbyes, feeling more and more like he didn't belong. He didn't understand why they would have even invited him? And Draco? They were both part of the reason why these people were suffering.
But it wasn't until it was Ginny's turn, and he was forced to watch her light her candle, her tear-streaked face flooded with grief, that his heart felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces, and his stomach writhed with guilt.
He wanted to hold her so badly, to comfort her, apologise to her for all the pain his side of the war had caused her. He balled his hands into his fists, anger coursing through him as he thought of the people who had done this. People he had trusted, had even called friends, just to see them turn into ruthless murderers the minute someone offered them wealth or power.
His nostrils flared as he exhaled deeply through his nose, readying himself to walk over to Ginny and pull her into his arms; when he felt a cool, but firm hand on his arm.
"Later." Draco hissed into his ear, a warning look in his steely eyes. "Let her brother take care of her." He jerked his head towards Ginny, who had fallen into Ron's arms and wept quietly into his chest. "She needs to be with her family right now." Draco added quietly, his own gaze flickering over to Hermione, who was sniffling quietly into Harry's chest.
Greg nodded reluctantly and took a step back, his breaths laboured, as he fought to control his emotions. "We shouldn't be here, Draco." He murmured, a new wave of guilt coursing through him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. "We were part of what caused this."
"I know." The blonde said, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he swallowed hard. "I'm only here, because Hermione asked me to come." His gaze wandered back to the curly haired witch, who was now hugging Ron and Ginny. "I can't undo what happened, but I can be here for her now. I can make sure she never has to suffer like that again."
"Wow," Greg huffed, unable to help himself. "You're really serious about her, aren't you?"
"Oh, you have no idea." Draco muttered, and Greg watched as his friend's expression softened and his eyes began to sparkle with a sort of unbridled affection that he had never seen on his face before.
Studying Draco carefully, he wondered what it would feel like to be so sure about someone; to know that they are 'the one', the person you want to spend the rest of your life with; - and without even noticing his gaze drifted back to Ginny, who was turned away from him now; the soft light of the floating candles in front of her, reflecting off her fiery hair, and making it look as if it was alight with a thousand dancing, golden flames.
It was mesmerising, and he only realised how intensely he had been staring at her, when a shock of dirty-blonde hair blocked his view.
His eyebrows raised, as he watched Luna Lovegood approach Draco and he, two lanterns in her hand, and a kind look on her face.
"Hello, Draco. Hi, Gregory." She greeted them in a soft, slightly dreamy voice.
"Luna." Draco replied in a way of greeting, declining his head politely towards her.
"Err, hi." Greg hummed, staring awkwardly at the peculiar witch.
"I brought you these." She stuck her hands out towards them, offering them one lantern each.
"Oh, we're not…" Greg began, looking at Draco for help.
"Uhm, we don't have anyone to light it for, Luna." The blonde explained quietly.
Luna studied them both for several long seconds, her forget-me-not eyes wide and piercing, as if they had the ability to stare right into their souls; before she took a step closer and grabbed Greg's hand.
"We can disagree with people's views." She said, placing one of the candles into his palm. "and renounce the cause they gave their lives to." She continued, reaching out to push the second candle into Draco's hand. "…and still mourn them as the person we once loved."
She took a step back, face shining with determination. "There is good and bad in everyone." She insisted. "Even in the people we've lost. And tonight we focus on the good, and leave the bad behind."
And with that she took hold of both of their arms and led them to the water. - And as he lit his candle, fondly thinking back at a time where Vincent Crabbe had still been his friend, and pushed it gently out onto the lake, something in Greg's head clicked, and all of a sudden, he understood:
Sometimes you needed to face the darkness in order to see the light. He didn't think he had allowed himself to grieve for his friend at all, and in his eagerness to ignore the pain and pretend that his death hadn't affected him the way it did, he had also suppressed all the good memories about their friendship.
It was then, that he felt a soft hand slide into his, and his stomach flipped, as warm, delicate fingers interlinked with his.
"I didn't know you were coming." Ginny said, leaning in, until she was close enough to rest her head on his shoulder.
"I wasn't going to at first." Greg shrugged.
Ginny gave his hand an understanding squeeze, before pulling him into a tight hug.
"I'm glad you did." She breathed, tilting her head to smile up at him.
Greg smiled back, as he raised his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear; Draco's words from earlier still echoing in his head. The blonde had been right. – Neither of them had the power to change what happened in the past, but they could potentially influence the future; And Greg would be damned if he didn't try his best to make Ginny's future as bright as he could.
"Yeah," He said, his eyes locked with hers as he swiped his thumb gently across her tear-stained cheeks. Her skin was soft and cool, and he could feel his heart speed up, as she let out a small hum and leaned into his touch. "Me too."