Chapter 2 : Letting Go.
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Chapter Image ~ (Sol) at The Dark Arts.
Time moves and yet you stand still – with no motivation or sense of direction. Your feet walk, your lips move in answer to questions, your heart still beats, your eyes dart with suspicion but yet you still only see what you want to see.
People greet others with happiness, they embrace with gestures of love, friendship, kindness and still in Sympathy.
The war has ended, people have moved on. Pieces of their lives are slowly being pieced back together. Yet, at the same time their lives are still this giant Jigsaw puzzle, you place that corner down and think your puzzle is complete, you’re happy, you get this sensation at the bottom of your stomach that tingles with joy and excitement because your puzzle is perfect.
However, your life can still end in a moment. It crashes down, the walls of your puzzle colliding with those of others and slowly, piece by piece, your puzzle will start disappearing. It will start from the corner, where you had put the last piece and then make its way towards the middle; and eventually, ending up vanishing. Leaving you alone and looking at the scattered pieces of your life, unsure of what piece to try and put back together first.
Though currently you don’t seem bothered about it – Everywhere I look people are smiling and laughing. Their worries and troubles are gone. Do they not remember the catastrophe that took place nine months ago? When they fought for their freedom, the survival of the Muggle and Wizarding races alike, to defend their families and their rights and beliefs as they fought to protect one another?
Everyone had lost someone during the battle. The pain and the grief, the emotions that poured out of their hearts and the water that pooled out of their eyes were gone. Their memories of the day no longer fresh in their minds. They had moved on, so why couldn't I?
They had all changed.
"Seamus," I looked up as the compartment door opened roughly and smiled at the person who spoke my name, "Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all," I answered as they smiled back in return.
The silence that broke out between the two of us was uncomfortable. Neither of us knew how to answer the questions both where desperately seeking to ask. But at the same time how did I ask someone a question that I already knew the answer to, what do I say? How do I say it? Is it even okay to ask such a thing, when the answer is so clearly written on their face. Does my face look as haunted by memories as theirs?
"So," he started, propping his feet up on the empty space next to me. "How are you?"
Angry. Annoyed. Frustrated. Want to tear my hair out. Trying to consider the easy way out. "I am great thanks. How are you?"
"I'm doing okay," the boy across from me raised an eyebrow suspiciously before adding, "Are you really great?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"Cut the crap, Finnigan, you were a Zombie on that platform." Leaning back against the chair, he smirked at me as he folded his arms across his chest."Have you written to them yet?"
"Are you going to?"
"Not likely," I answered bluntly turning back to the window.
Rolling my eyes I looked back at him. His face was more drawn in than normal and the look in his eyes was a lie. His face was pulled into a tight smile, while his eyes glowed with a small amount of sadness, almost like he was longing for something or more so someone.
Why was he so determined to speak to me? All vacation I had drowned my sorrow and pain in alcohol. I hadn't spoken to anyone, barely even spoken to my mother. I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to hear their sad cases of missing someone, I didn't want to hear their lectures, and I definitely did not want them to tell me to 'move on'.
How do you move on with guilt weighing your conscious down all the time? How? How do you move past something knowing it was your fault, that you are a murderer? How do you tell the parents of your best friend you killed her?
Even more, how do I return to school without her? It was always us. It was her and Dean who went to the Yule Ball. It was the three of us who spent our summer at the lake. The thing that surprised us all, is not once did we ever develop feelings for each other, our realtionship was purely based on friendship. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Can't stomach it," I replied hoping he would drop the questions and small talk and go away.
"Well you’re going to have to write to them eventually!" He said leaning forward and resting his elbows against his knees while resting his head in his hands. Apparently he was still determind, why douln't he just go away and leave me in peace? leave me to die in the hole I had built myself.
I didn't have to write to anyone. I opened my mouth to retaliate but the stern look that I received was enough to cool my boiling blood again, so instead I asked, "Why? They'll only accuse me of their daughter’s death like everyone else does."
"No one blames you Seamus, why are you too blind too see that?"
Why will no one admit the truth anymore? Our world that has been created and rebuilt is only being built on lies. We are not happy, none of us. We long for everyone who died to be resurrected, yet we can't have them, they are gone. So instead we tell tales about them, trying to be happy while our lives fall to pieces
"If they don't blame me," I fired, "Then why am I being glared at by every person who passes by the window?"
He frowned at me for a second, almost as if he was contemplating his answer. "Seamus, no one blames you at all. You didn't fire the spell and you certainly tried your hardest to get back to her when you realized you had let go of her hand, it's not your fault she die-"
"Don't you dare say that word! They do blame me! And they blame me, because it is my fault. It is all my fault! It will always be my fault! I should never have let go of her hand! I should never have run in the opposite direction when Yaxley had his wand pointed at her throat, with me thinking she could handle him! I should never have left her alone to die. She died because of me!" I yelled getting to my feet.
There will be a moment in your life when your friends stand down to you, they will look at you as their hero, their friend. They will guide you in times of need and follow you wherever you will go, but a true friend; a real friend will not back down, they will stand their ground, every inch of what you give they will return. A true friend will be by your side in the greatest time of need and he will certainly not let you suffer.
I have many friends, but few are true.
"It was not your fault Seamus! Are you really going to live with the same guilt for the rest of your goddamn life? Do you think she would let you wallow away if it had been Dean in her place? Do you? Do you! Answer me damn you!"
His questions had thrown me. His words hitting against the wall that I had so quickly built around myself – the wall which was now crumbling down. How had he done it? Taken so few words that had meant so much and made me weak at the knees and sick to the core of my abdomen?
As much as I hated to admit it, he was right.
Sighing he moved to sit down next to me. I wiped my eyes secretively on my sleeve as he patted my shoulder with sympathy. Did he truly know how I felt? What I was going through? Was he going through the same thing?
"When Fred died, I was a mess Finnigan. I wouldn't eat, I wouldn't talk to anyone, and I would spend hours alone in the garden at mum’s place, walking around in circles all day. Sometimes I wouldn't even leave my room instead I would lock myself in my room for days without seeing the light of day."
He knew, he knew what I was feeling, what I was going through but at the same time he was making me realize so much more.
"I was selfish. Even told mum I hated her there at one stage." George chuckled and tossed his hair out of his eyes. "I blamed myself for weeks, months, only recently have I woken up to the life around me. It was not only affecting me, but those around me.
"They could see the pain I was going through, without letting anyone in. I wouldn't allow it, I wanted to be alone needed to be alone, yet at the same time I wanted so much comforting. So many questions, still I have some, few, but some, Why wasn't it me? Should I have been under the wall that Rookwood exploded? Was it my fault that I sent Percy to Fred instead of me? Would it have been me in Fred’s place if I had been there instead?"
A small tear left George’s eye as he relived the memory of his brother’s death. How could he talk about it so calmly? Almost as if he was not even gone. As if he was right next to him.
"It was Ginny who brought me out of my sorrow. My guilt." He corrected knowingly, "She yelled at me, explained that it couldn't be changed, that fate is fate, all her normal psychobabble bullshit, and I wasn't listening until she said one thing."
George smiled at me and took my hand, guiding it to his heart. His heart beat was slow and steady as I felt the pounding of it against my palm.
"Fred will always be with you, in memory and in here." Frowning, he then guided my hand over my own rapidly beating heart. "And Karni will always live in here, for eternity, no matter where you go she will be beside you, guiding you down the correct path, until it is time for you to go as well. She lives in here, in your heart; she lives in your heart with love and friendship."
It was then, in those few short moments of kindness, generosity and friendship that I was relieved that George had returned to Hogwarts instead of reopening the shop because George Weasley showed me how much I had done and how many people I was hurtng, in such a small amount of time. It was not much that he had said to me, but it was enough for me to understand. In all honestly it still doesn't make all that much sense to me, but at the same time it did.
All I needed was to hear it from the right person.
I needed to let her go. Not entirely, but enough for her to understand that I had accepted a new life, one I would have to spend without her. I would have to accept that it was my time to be without her. My grieving stage was indeed over, it would not be easy and it would take time but she would be there with me, always in my heart.
It would take time; yes it would take a lot of time to heal the wound that made my heart bleed internally. Yet I think now I can manage. I need to find Dean and apologize. I hadn’t spoken to him in seven months.
Karni Smigwell is my best friend and she always will be because she never really left. Not really.
You can carry so much with you, when you only really need one thing to carry it all; it carries everything for you, you just need to know where to put it. Mine – I put in George Weasley the day he helped me out of my sadness. The day he pulled me out of a rut that no one believed I would ever come out of. I was grateful to the Weasley family from that day onward and I would be forever.
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