the gentle moon / george weasley

the aftermath

She wanted it to be all a dream. A make-believe story she picked off the shelf that evening and got lost in the words with a cup of tea next to her, not her life. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him there, bleeding in front of her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw herself fighting him off her, off him. Every time she closed her eyes, he was dead. But it was not a dream. He was attacked, she did have to fight him off and he was dead.

"You are not responsible for this," He said.

He was telling the truth, but all she could hear was, she was responsible for this. She wasn't fast enough, she distracted him. She was there, and she didn't stop it in time... She was responsible because she was too late to the tower, and he had to watch him die. For some reason, August believed this was all her fault. Everything was her fault. The branch that fell on the neighbor's car, was her fault. The fight between the man at the toll booth and the man in the car was her fault. This war.

This whole bloody war was her fault because she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to stop it, and she should. She has read every book, she passed every test, and she was top of her class. She should know what to do. And when eyes land on her, she can only assume that everyone else is expecting her to do something. Stop it, fight it, end it.

But she didn't know how to.

"Oh, dear." She sighed, "Please eat something."

She didn't understand why it was always such a surprise to her when someone got hurt, or someone died. It was a bloody war, of course, those things are going to happen, and they were happening. It was happening all over England, all over Europe... All over the world, people were hurt, and people were dying, but why was it so surprising to see it? Why was it so terrifying? Life was not supposed to be this scary.

'I'm right here," He said, "I want you to know, I'm not going anywhere."

And in the silence, she suddenly understood the many ways a person can die but still be alive. And for the first time, everyone realized that she did not heal out there, she did not mourn, she just forced herself to forget everything that has happened to her. And because of that night, she was reminded of what the world was really like, what people were really like. Because there was no way she was this sad about Dumbledore's death. If there was one death in this war, his death should not be this hard on her.

"Please trust me when I say, I did not know he was going to do that." He begged, "I thought it was going to Malfoy, and I wanted to tell you that it was him, but I couldn't. You know I couldn't... I know... I know me and him were in the same boat, I honestly saw myself in him, being this double agent... I thought we were alike, be we are not. So, please... Please, Moon, trust me. Please trust me. I am on your side. I am. I am no Snape. I can't lose you. Trust me please."

This is all my fault.

This is all my fault.

This is all my fault.

This is all my fault.

And then, without warning, it swept over her, the dreadful truth, more completely and undeniably than it had until now. It was loud when it hit, her thoughts flooding her mind, their voices finally filling her ears, even though she was alone in that room staring off. Every air particle filled her lungs, her skin covered with chills and her head pounding. She was cold and she was hot. She felt small, and then she felt like a giant destroying everything in her path. There was no waking from this nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that she was safe really.

No matter if there was a werewolf attack across the world, she would always feel responsible for it. If there was a new howl in the night, she blamed herself that another person has fallen victim to someone like her. It did not matter how many times someone told her she was nothing like him, like them.