Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. :(

And She's Gone

by Silence Unheard
 
 
 

Draco stared at her. So beautiful, he thought. Even in death, her beauty was apparent.

Pale, pale, white face. Lips blue, an eerie addition to the color. Hair a dark brown, curled into ringlets. Long, black
eyelashes, casting shadows on her cheekbones. Small, petite nose, with a slight smattering of freckles.

But she was dead.

He wanted to shake her, feel her stir underneath his hands, become alive again, awake from her endless sleep. He
wanted to apologize for it all. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh, God, I'm sorry ... Shake her, see her eyes flutter open, feel
her heart beat again. Maybe if he ...?

Draco considered following through with his drastic plan, but in his heart he knew it would not work. Magic could
not bring back the dead.

What kind of place was she in, now? Utter and complete blackness, or a white, sunny utopia?

She's in a better place ... the wind whispered.

"She deserves nothing less than a better place," Draco snapped back aloud, not knowing why he was talking to the
wind.

A better place, it sighed again, and then the voice turned into one of cold, cruel, malice. A better place, where she
won't have to see your face ...

I am a bastard, Draco thought, I know that. She only did this because of me, if I hadn't said the things I said ...

It's too late now, the wind fleered, magic can't bring back the dead.

If she had been happy, Draco thought, she would've watched her step, been more careful, cautious. Parvati said that
she had slipped on the rock on purpose ... is it true? Oh, God ... He buried his face in his hands.

After a moment, or so, he raised his head, and looked back at her dead, still body. For a flickering moment he was
holding her in his arms again, feeling her laugh against his chest, feeling her pulse in her frail neck beating faster
and faster under his lips.

But then he returned to reality, and was facing only a cold, emotionless capsule of something that used to be alive.
Only the lifeless shell of what she used to be.

And she's gone, the wind sneered, she's gone, and it's all your fault, all your fault ...

He didn't reply. Standing there, looking down on her, running his hands over her frigid body one last time. He bent,
and kissed her icy lips. Draco turned and looked at the lake, the one where she had chosen to lay her grave in.

And she's gone ... the wind echoed through the trees, searching for someone new to whisper in their ears what they
know all too well. She's gone ...

Draco took a step forward. Dare he?

And she's gone ...