Requested by Ginger_Queen_
(A/N This one shot ended up pretty depressing. I hadn't meant for it to be that way but it was based off a headcanon and the headcanon was pretty depressing on its own so that's how this ended out. I personally don't really like depressing one shots because they tend to end with the guy dying, but that doesn't happen in this one and I think the depressing part of this makes the cutesy part of it rather nice. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one-shot. (-:)
The Battle of Hogwarts had been a legendary event. It was in every newspaper, on every mind of ever wizard and witch, on every conversation in the wizarding community. It was everywhere you walked, faint echoes in the buzzing community that hid within the muggle streets. You struggled to continue within the wizard community, reverting to using your magic in secret as you built a separate life in the muggle world.
You had been a seventh year student when the battle had begun, by the end of it you felt immature compared to the others who had fought. You'd spent the entirety of the battle locked against your will in the dungeons with the others in your house, by the order of Mcgonagall. You sat on the dungeon floor, listening to the raging war above. You listened for what felt like days, you listened to the screams, you listened to the booms and crashes of deadly spells, you listened to the cheering when the war had ended.
You listened to the weeps and desperate screaming as the dead were found.
You listened, absolutely helpless, as your friends fought and died above you. Locked away, unable to help, unable to save them, unable to do anything.
Once you were released, you were allowed back on the surface. Surrounded by depression and death. Wandering through the crying families and lifeless bodies, until you were forced to stop. As much as you wanted to keep walking, to run, you couldn't move. You stared at her tan face and blonde hair, stained with blood and brightened unhealthily with death. She stared into the sky, the sky she'd loved so much to fly through, her blue eyes no longer bright with her smile. Your legs collapsed and you fell to the floor beside her, screaming and crying as you shook her body. They had to drag you away, it took three adults to pry your clinging hands from your friends body.
It wasn't a death eater who killed Jess. It hadn't been Voldermort who'd killed her. It was Mcgonagall, who'd left her to fight alone without her friends. Who'd let her prejudice cloud her mind. Mcgonagall killed Jess, and for that you would never forgive her.
You lived on, every day, surrounded by wizards and witches who supported her and her prejudice. You left, disappearing from the wizarding community and entering the muggle world. Living alone in your quiet apartment, surrounded by pictures and memories you were too sentimental to throw out.
Within your secluded, dark lit, new life you received a letter. You weren't entirely sure how they had found you, all your friends were dead, lost to the war you weren't able to fight.
The letter encased an invitation to a funeral. Fred Weasley. You hadn't even remembered seeing his body within the mass you found Jess, but you could vaguely remember a red head and his curly haired friend helping pull you away from her. It was difficult to see anything through the blurry tears and your stinging eyes.
You looked to the urn that sat on your mantle. Jess hadn't had any living family and had left all her belongings to you when she died, the boxes carrying the contents of her all too short life still lay shut in an empty room, with a closed door that was never opened. Jess hadn't had a proper funeral, only your crying in your living room left to comfort her resting soul.
Staring at the delicately painted ceramic urn covered in the brightest colors - just like Jess's smile - you decided, Fred deserved a proper funeral. He deserved to be honored by all of his friends, even the most minor ones, Jess hadn't gotten a proper funeral with her friends and family celebrating her life, only a sad girl too depressed to see how selfish she was being.
The day of the funeral, you left the house early in a long black dress and a dark jacket. The streets were loud and bustling, the world still rotated happily as you walked to the funeral. It was what you loved most about the muggle world, they lived on with their smiles and bright hair colors despite the death and poverty that surrounded their small world. Many gossiping witches had called in insensitive and selfish, but you were learning there were times to be selfish.
Mcgonagall's prejudice decision wasn't one of those times. You were finding you knew more about life and it's workings than Mcgonagall ever did, death seems to do that to a person. You'd seen Mcgonagall cry but never believed it. She didn't know what it was like to loose your best friend. To be locked away for the decisions of a ratty old hat and listen in the safety of your imprisonment to the screams of death that rained in the skies of war. She would never understand your pain as you sat in that dungeon, hearing the war above and envisioning every possible way your friends could die. Again and again you told yourself they weren't dead, that you were exaggerating. When you collapsed beside Jess in your weeps and screams of terror the thoughts ran through your mind. You watched your friend die a thousand times, and it was far worse than seeing her fall before you. At least then, you could still see the bright sparkles in her eyes as they faded away, instead of being left with empty memories.
You did your best to clear your mind as you walked down the street. The sidewalk was wet with yesterday's rain and the air was filled with the calming smell of dew mixed with the smokey aroma of London streets. The air was a heavy thick weight, you weren't sure if it was from the rain or your filling sadness.
You walked down the bustling street, happy to let your mind wander through the rumbling streets, the bright red tour buses, the laughing people and the comforting foggy mist that lit the horizon. At an empty cemetery you stopped walking, from here you would have to apparate.
The cemetery was empty, but despite its dark fading tombstones and wet snuffled candles, it was happy. The cheery trees hung with morning dew and their leaves blew away with the wind, tumbling and mixing with the roses and lilies and daisies and marigolds. It was bright and colorful and beautiful, it was the most vibrant thing you'd seen since you moved away from the wizarding world.
With a fresh smile, you left the cemetery.
It had been a while since you last apparated, and even then you were still new to it. The wrenching swirl of your gut and your head being pulled in what seemed like opposite directions, and the sudden launching onto solid ground after being pushed through the thick jelly of apparating.
The funeral took place in a bright white tent, shading the grassy area with a dulled warm sunlight. You entered the tent warily and you could feel your hands shaking despite the morning warmth. This funeral would be full of witches and wizards, witches and wizards who you'd abandoned. Even if they hadn't been your friends, they still invited you here today, and you had left them. You weren't sure how they would react to you, maybe they sent the invitation to the wrong person. You turned away, walking away from the tent. You knew you could have apparated right there, but walking felt so much more natural.
When you turned you nearly bumped into the person you thought would be least likely to come.
"I hadn't known you were going to be here." Draco Malfoy said quietly, his eyes darting around to check for incoming guests.
"I could say the same about you." You replied, straightening up. You hadn't known Draco very well, but from what you did know he had fought with Voldermort in the war. He was as much to blame for Jess and Fred's deaths as Mcgonagall. "From what I've heard you choose your side in the war."
"It was a mistake."
"Mistakes get people killed. Especially when you let your prejudiced cloud your judgement."
Draco eyed you oddly and you realized you weren't talking solely about him.
"Never mind that," You added quickly. "What matters is your here now. As long as you're here for the right reasons I guess I wouldn't mind helping you hide, after all wizards can be so cruel about their judgment and gossip."
You smiled at him and he responded with a confused brow and a gentle smirk. The two of you entered the tent carefully, making sure not to be noticed. The processions had yet to begin, but most of the people were sitting in their chairs having quiet conversation.
"I had heard you died." Draco said quietly, staring at the tombstone that read Fred Weasley. A great friend, a mischievous prankster, a loyal wizard, and an amazing brother.
"From who?" You asked. No such rumors had reached you, but you suspected that was from your self inflicted seclusion.
"At least a dozen gossips and a few friends, they say you killed yourself after finding Jess."
Your face darkened and you struggled not to cry. Draco set a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to upset you."
"I'm fine." You responded, his warm hand seemed to absorb the sadness away. "Which friends? All of my friends are gone, either dead or in hiding."
"Not all of them." Draco said, you looked up to him. His face looked so much older than it should of been, aged by war and death.
"(Y/N)!" There was a shocked yell and you jumped, your eyes ripped away from Draco and towards the voice.
Hermione Granger was running towards you, tears streaming down her face. The warmth of Draco's hand left your shoulder but you were too distracted by Hermione to fully notice.
"We thought you were dead!" She said and attacked you with a hug. She shook with tears and hugged you tightly.
You patted her back compassionately. "I was never dead."
"You dissapeared!" Hermione said, she tore away from the hug and held your shoulders at arms length. "Everyone was saying you were so upset about Jess you had killed yourself."
You wanted to laugh at the ridiculous rumor, but you knew it entirely too possible for it to be ridiculous. You'd considered suicide a few times but could never bring yourself to it. You couldn't stand to use magic anymore, and all the muggle ways you had access to were too painful.
"Not dead," You said. "I've just been living with the muggles."
"Why would you do that?" Ron Weasley joined the conversation and you saw Harry Potter standing next to him behind Hermione. You whipped around to see Draco but found he was gone, and based off Harry's sad look he hadn't seen Draco yet.
"They're much nicer to be around. They don't know anything about the war, it's much easier to live with then."
"That sounds horrible." Hermione said. "No one to talk to about what happened." She stared at you pitifully and you remembered she had been there when you found Jess.
"I quite like it," You said and forced a smile. It was half true. The muggles were nicer than the cruel gossips of the wizarding community but you felt empty no matter where you were. "When I tell them I graduated school this year they don't ask me about the war or what house I'm in. They're much less judgmental."
Your smiled faded as your eyes left Hermione and locked on another person. Mcgonagall was at the funeral.
"Why would you want to leave behind all your friends?" Harry asked. He had sadness in his eyes but a hard expression, he looked so much more sincere, like he already knew the nature of your answer.
"I don't have any friends left here." You said, sounding more spiteful than you had meant, but your mind wouldn't leave Mcgonagall. "They're all dead. Most died in the war, as I'm sure you're aware, the few Slytherin friends I had killed themselves."
Hermione gasped, more tears springing into her eyes. "That's horrible, I'm so sorry."
You couldn't respond, you were too occupied with the horrible stinging in your throat as you held back your tears.
The processions of the funeral began and you insisted the trio join their families, despite their oppositions. You stood at the back, watching each person walk to the headstone and lay a flower.
"Sorry I left you." You looked to your left to see Draco had returned.
"It's fine. I assuming you don't want people to know you're here."
Draco nodded slowly. "It's my fault he's dead. I'm part of the reason he died, I'm part of reason Jess died too." He looked at you sadly.
"You didn't choose to fight with them, you were just pushed into it before you even knew what you were doing." You looked to Mcgonagall again. She'd known what she was doing, and that made her even more the murderer.
Draco didn't say anything, and for once the silence wasn't daunting. He took your hand carefully in his and you couldn't help but smile at the new comforting warmth.
Through the funeral you stayed with Draco, holding his hand. It was a new feeling, like a sparkler in your stomach. You were happier than you could ever remember being, even as you stood before Fred's headstone. You smiled at the carved stone.
"It's too bad I'll never get to see how you pulled off all those pranks. But I'm sure god is enjoying all the pranks I'm sure you're doing up there. Say hi to Jess for me, I really miss you both."
You cried, but it was no longer depression, it was all the happy memories. Memories you knew you'd never forget, even during times of sadness. This was how you should have handled Jess's death, you knew that now.