Drarry One-Shots

ix ~ Enact Your Dreams

WARNING: Grief is described throughout this chapter along with a very brief mention of terrorism (basically one sentence). Please proceed with caution as needed! 

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Soft flakes of snow drift down from the dark night sky, gracefully landing on the white blanket I recognize as the ground. The tear streaks down my face freeze-dry before they can pool at my chin, making my face feel tight and stiff. I sniffle, my nose burning with the chill of the air in the process. 

"Hey, Harry," I say lamely with a tired, sad laugh. Of course, my greeting is met with a dull, deafening silence aside from the wind that sweeps the yard. "I know it's been a while; I'm sorry," I choke out. "I was scared to come and just couldn't bring myself to for the past few weeks, not to mention how busy I was in America. That's no excuse, though. I know, and I'm sorry." 

I sigh and wipe the trains of tear streaks from my cold, rosy cheeks. "It's our anniversary, though," I begin. "Two years ago today, I kissed you after our first date in Hogsmeade during sixth year. That was such a wonderful day--the best." I sit down beside the large block of stone beside me. "I know I say that all the time, but really, it was. I'd never felt that happy before that moment."

Looking to the sky, I see nothing but bleak darkness and white crystals--a truly breathtaking sight. "I've been trying to do good in your name, love," I say, the lump in my throat re-forming, and causing me to choke up. "I did a speech last week at Ilvermorny School about the discrimination of muggles, muggle-borns, and squibs, and why it needs to stop."

I look around the yard, my eyes dancing from plaque to plaque, and find that my conversation isn't being eavesdropped on by any other visitors this Christmas Eve. "The kids seemed uninterested until I said what I used to be like--that I used to be a bully, too. I think it was interesting for them to hear that different perspective, y'know?

"I had to take a few weeks off my usual Auror duties and simply be on-call in case of an emergency because I've been so busy with the charity," I continue, a bit disappointed with myself. "Never did I think I'd be co-founding a charity with none other than Minister of Magic, Hermione Granger. She's still just as stubborn as ever, but so am I, so we've had some bickering. All arguing aside, I think we're going to help a lot of people."

My eyes travel to the ground before me as I run my fingers through the snow. It feels sharp against my ungloved, bare skin as the small shards of ice cut at my fingers. Ceasing the action, I stuff my hands into my pockets, unsure of what else to do with them. 

"We're going to help everyone who was financially damaged during the war," I explain. "Y'know, houses destroyed, stolen property from Snatchers, damaged muggle property from the Death Eaters' terrorism, pretty much the entirety of Diagon Alley--you get the gist." My voice comes out calmer and less choked up now as I veer away from what's really bothering me--the reason I'm not getting a response. 

Quiet sweeps over me again as I cease my catching-up and slip into my thoughts, reminiscing on all of our amazing times together. A light sob escapes my lips as the thought that we didn't get as many amazing times as we should have comes to mind. "I miss you," I choke out. "I've missed you so, so very much and I don't know what to do with myself because it consumes me.

"I still haven't told anyone about us, so of course the only ones that know are Hermione and the Weasleys," I sob out. "We all tell each other it's going to get easier, and I think for them, it has. They got to spend so much time with you--years. It wasn't enough, it could never be enough, no matter how much time someone spends with you, because you're so encaptivating and caring and loving, but they got so much more than I ever will. I only got two years of my life with you!" My voice drops out during my last statement as sorrow consumes me, drowning my thought process and any previous feelings of joy. "I'm so angry with myself for not just getting over my ego sooner and telling you how I felt rather than being so horrible."

I turn to face the large headstone beside me and finally bring myself to read it's contents. 

Harry Potter

July 31, 1980 - May 2, 1998

He, along with many others, gave his life for the safety of our world during the Battle of Hogwarts and will forever be honored for his bravery and sacrifice.

My sobs only continue at the kind words, knowing full-well that Harry would have hated them. Another sad laugh escapes my cold, horribly chapped lips as I envision his annoyed expression upon finding out what we wrote on his headstone. 

"If you had to treat me like some sort of hero," I imagine he would begin, "you could have at least put 'The Boy Who Lived!' That would be so ironic on my gravestone. I mean, come on." 

"I love you, Harry," I say, all signs of laughter draining as I return to my sullen state. "I'm always going to. I'm thankful for the two years I got with you. Oh, Merlin, I'm so fucking thankful for those two years." 

My hand goes to my mouth. "Sorry, I know you wanted me to swear less," I apologize. "I'm so thankful for those two years, but I need more. I need an eternity with you, but I don't think even that would be enough time." 

"I can't wait to see you again," I admit. "I can't go now, though, even though I wish I could. I have to stay alive and honor your memory. Even though no one knows about us, I need to continue your legacy and enact your dreams. That's all I have left." 

I smile sadly, wonderfully warm memories flowing through my tired and overwhelmed mind as I think back on all of our time together. Wordlessly, I cast a spell to prevent the cold from reaching my body and curl up on the ground next to my beloved. As my eyes drift to a close, warm, burning tears continue to stream until I eventually get pulled into an exquisite, joy-infusing dream of my boyfriend and I spending our lives together. 

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This caused me physical pain to write.