Thank You, Dad

[1]

intense ringing
muffled footsteps
spots cloud my vision

"y..."
"y/n.."
"Y/N!"

"Huh? What's happening?" I whip around to face that voice that's calling my name.
Melancholy eyes attract mine.
A somber smile give my lungs a fresh wave of air.

"Love, are you sure you're alright? Minerva turned the Great Hall into a hospice, we can get you checked out if you'd like-"
"No, no thank you Draco. I'm positive I'm okay." My eyes retreat towards the blank crumbled cobble on which my feet stand upon. I kick a broken piece of gravel, causing it to tumble a few inches backwards.

Before I know it, I feel a gentle, yet firm grip on my shoulder. "Darling, with all due respect, you are not 'okay'. I want you checked out. Please, for me?" I could hear the concern wavering with ever word he said. My eyes met his once again, just to be struck with guilt from the pleading glare he held.

My, my.. He's so worried about me.

"Okay.." I mumble, turning towards the boy I so desperately love. The smile that shined on his face when I gave in was priceless; as he took his hand from my shoulder and in return, laced his fingers with mine, dragging me into the damaged castle.

As we walked from the courtyard to the main doors, every student and teacher alike stared us down warily.
It reminds me so much of first year..

Draco must've noticed how tense I got from the looks we were being given, so he looked back at me and whispered, "Ignore them, love. You helped them in the end, remember that." and gave my hand a loving squeeze.
I smiled apprehensively, squeezing back in return.

We made a right turn as we entered the collateral school we used to call 'home', coming to a stop at the Great Hall's massive opening.
Dead bodies, hurt victims, broken hearts..
My fault
My fault
My fault

"Miss Snape? Miss Snape, are you alright?" A gentle voice called me back into reality.
Snapping my head up, wide eyed and shaken up, before me stood Minerva McGonagall, who was currently eyeing me intensely.
I swallowed thickly, nodding. That's the best I could come up with.

"Come with me dearie, watch your step." Minerva grasped my hand, pulling me after her.
Step by step, we passed more poor souls, brave warriors, and.. and torn families. Oh, shit..
As we continued walking, I couldn't tear my eyes away from a group of people in particular.

"FRED! WHY, FRED, WHY!" Ron screamed in agony, his voice raw and dry. George kneeled next to him, sobbing as loud as a cursed banshee.
"NO FRED, NO. HE CAN'T.. HE JUST BLOODY CAN'T! WAKE UP YOU STUPID BASTARD, WAKE UP!" George slammed his fists into Fred's cold chest, like maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to restart his twin's dead heart. His mother and father had to pull him away, he was going ballistic.
They've been grieving like that for hours. Ever since the war had officially ended, they went right back to their spots, right back to.. right back to The-Saint-Like Fred Weasley.

I think a piece of me chipped away with Fred, seeing his family so devastated.
Once George stopped resisting his mom and dad, he turned around in his father's arms and latched to him, crying his eyes crimson red.

I wish, I wish I could grieve in my father's arms.

As Molly rubbed her son's back, shushing his cries, her eyes lifted and somehow met with mine, all the way across the great wide room.
And unlike everyone else's, they weren't filled with malice. They weren't filled with resent.
They were filled with condolence.

"Alright dearie, sit. Hurry up, I have other student's to look after." Minerva's thin lips curved upwards at her attempt at humor, trying to lighten the mood.
I did as she asked, plopping down on a creaky foot stool.

She scanned over my face, my arms, my torso, and my feet. She inhaled softly in relief, bending to grab something under her wooden chair.
"Alright, thankfully, no broken bones. But you do have quite a few open wounds."
She turned back around in her seat, revealing a First Aid kit. Her thin, pale hands pulled out bandages, cotton balls, and an alcohol bottle.
She looked at me seriously this time, twisting off the bottle's cap, and pouring some onto a cotton ball.

"Okay, this might sting... a lot."