Post by MinnieQuill on Dec 7, 2006 4:38:39 GMT -5
One Day You'll Laugh and Not Cry
Summary:- Harry learns about grief from a woman who knows it all too well
Harry sat at the front of the pews staring at the closed coffin that encased his ladylove. Ginevra Weasley had sacrificed herself to save him, and Harry knew that he would always feel guilty that she died for his cause. Like all clichés, her vibrant hair had glowed like fire as the curse hit, before she fell down to the ground in a lifeless heap. It was that image that haunted him night-after-night and day-after-day.
People told him that sacrifices must be made for the cause ,but Harry knew that if he could turn back time he would save her rather than the possibly millions that had lived because of her sacrifice, he would not hesitate.
The mourners rose as one, and he trudged after the coffin ignoring the numerous red-heads who tried to get his attention. They still loved him but he was, despite their assurances to the contrary, an outsider and an intruder on family grief.
As he threw the handful of dirt onto her coffin he felt tears leak from his eyes. He stopped them immediately. Time had taught him one thing; Men don’t cry.
“Harry,” a voice whispered. Harry didn’t move and felt a hand on his shoulder, “Harry, come with me. I’m taking you to my manor.”
Harry nodded and gave one last lingering look at the grave in front of him, before turning and allowing himself to be steered toward a waiting car.
“Why aren’t we going to Hogwarts?” he asked.
“I thought there might be too many painful memories there, Harry.”
Harry nodded. He had met Ginny at Hogwarts, had proposed to her at Hogwarts, they were going to send their firstborn to Hogwarts. That was one thing only he knew; the day that Lord Voldemort had killed Ginny he had also killed Harry’s unborn son.
He stared out the window at the passing Scottish scenery. It suited his mood; the sky was grey and the hills bleak. There was no sign of real life to be seen.
“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said as he took particular interest in the approaching hill.
“Please call me Minerva, Harry.”
Harry turned to face his former teacher. She was staring resolutely ahead of her but Harry could see the tear tracks on her face that she tried desperately to hide.
“Does it ever get easier, Minerva?” Harry asked, knowing full well she knew what he was referring to.
She hesitated before answering, “The pain never goes away Harry. It just gets different.”
“How so?”
Minerva’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles gleamed white in the dim light.
“When he first died I burst into tears every time I saw a sherbert lemon, but now I can smile and remember how they used to infuriate me.”
Harry nodded to show he understood, and resumed his study of the Scottish highlands. He hoped that he would one day be able to laugh when he thought of Ginny, but for the moment he would hold his tears at bay.
“Let them out, Harry,” Minerva said as if reading his thoughts, “It’s not healthy to keep them bottled up.”
At her words Harry’s body began to heave as he allowed his grief to exit. Minerva pulled onto the side of the road and placed a hand on his back. His sobs intensified and she pulled him toward her. Harry gripped onto her with every ounce of strength he possessed and took courage in the fact she was making no move to pull away despite the warm blood he could feel spreading across her back as he dug in his fingernails.
Eventually he didn’t have any more tears to spill and he drew back and looked at Minerva apologetically.
“Your back, I’m sorry.”
He looked downward and felt a firm hand forcing his face upward.
“It’s much easier to heal a physical wound than an emotional one, Harry.”
Harry didn’t know what to say and settled for silence. Minerva started the car again and Harry surreptitiously glanced to the side to see what damage he had done.
The wounds were worse than he had expected and her thin shirt was ripped in eight different places with surprisingly deep wounds etched in the centre of each tear. Blood covered the back of the top entirely yet she didn’t seem to feel any pain.
Again she seemed to read his thoughts. She reached over and clasped his hand in hers. “I promise you Harry. One day you’ll laugh and not cry.”
