Darkness Falls

She waits.

He doesn't come.

She stands by the window, arms wrapped around her waist, her heart beating loudly in the silence of the empty house. And still, he doesn't come.

She needs him. She needs him like the earth needs the rain. She needs him because he is a part of her.

He doesn't come.

Darkness falls.

She closes the door to their bedroom, her eyes lighting upon the pictures atop the bedside table. Laughing, smiling, hoping, dreaming. She loves him, and he loves her. They are happy.

She loves the life they have built together, the plans they've made. She loves thinking about the future. A future with him. That is why she waits.

But he doesn't come.

She closes her eyes for a moment and pushes the anxious thoughts from her mind. He will come. He always does. Today is no different. She will tease him for being late, for making her worry. He will grin and kiss the top of her head and promise that it will never happen again.

He will come.

He doesn't come.

A knock from the front of the house pulls her to her feet and urges her forward. The welcoming smile dies on her face when she opens the door.

It's not him.

He hasn't come.

Words enter her consciousness and fly away before she can catch them. Sorry. Bad news. Fight. Struggle. Dead.

Dead.

He doesn't come.

He's dead.

Darkness falls.

The floor rises to meet her as her legs give way. Strong arms catch her.

Not his arms.

A stranger's arms.

She weeps. She weeps for the red-haired boy she loved. She weeps for the children they will never have, for the family they will never share. She weeps for the future that has been ripped from her grasp, for the dreams that lie shattered at her feet.

She weeps for her broken heart.

The funeral passes in a blur of words and prayers and tears.

Beloved son. Friend. Husband.

Love of her life.

He didn't come. He'll never come again.

Darkness falls.

~~~~~~~~

He watches her, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. He knows who she is. He knows all about her.

Hermione Granger-Weasley.

Twenty-five.

Ministry Official.

Widow.

He doubts that she remembers him, but he doesn't expect her to. He knows who he is.

Blaise Zabini.

Twenty-five.

Auror.

Bearer of Bad News.

He remembers clearly the look on her face when his words reached her. Shock. Fear. Anguish. Grief.

He carries the guilt of that day in his heart. It is his duty to protect those he works with, his duty to be there fighting beside them. He feels his failure, knows the full consequences of his inability to save someone from death.

So he watches her, understanding that his actions cost her the man she loved. He sits beside her, knowing that he is the reason for her pain. He holds her hand, vowing that he will do for her what he could not do for her husband.

He will protect her. He will care for her.

Before the darkness falls.

~~~~~~~~

She waits.

It does not come.

There is no comfort, no relief. There is no respite from the pain, no haven where she can rest. There is no end to the visitors, no reprieve from those who merely come to say they are sorry.

Sorry for what? It's not their fault.

It is her fault. Her fault for believing in happy endings.

The darkness stays, surrounding her heart like a shroud. It presses against her, choking her, threatening to kill her by intensity alone.

He comes.

Everyday he comes; everyday he sits beside her and holds her hand. He does not speak, and she does not want him to. The silence is painful, but the words are even more so.

So they sit, day after day, week after week, month after month. Sometimes he makes tea, sometimes she drinks it. Sometimes they simply stare into nothingness and barely move at all.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the darkness begins to fade.

She speaks of days past, of dreams now beyond her reach.

The walls begin to crack.

She rages against those who stole her love from her; she vows to seek justice, vengeance, peace.

He holds her when she cries.

The walls crumble, and the darkness is lifted, if only for a little while.

He promises to be there, to stay with her when she needs him. He promises to find those who are responsible for her pain and bring them to justice. He does not tell her of his own guilt. He cannot tell her, for when he does, she will hate him.

He loves her.

He loves her in a way he never thought possible. He loves everything about her. He loves how he feels when he is with her. He loves the person she has become, the woman the pain has made her.

She is strong.

She is determined.

She is passionate.

She is beautiful.

She is everything he wants and everything he cannot have.

So everyday he comes, everyday he sits by her side and holds her hand. Everyday he prays for the courage to tell her the truth.

He waits.

It doesn't come.

Until one day he can stand it no longer. He sits beside her, looks her in the eye, and says the words he has been fighting against for over a year. He tells her how her husband died, how he should have been there to protect him. He tells her of his guilt, and he begs for her forgiveness.

He cries.

She reaches out and takes his hand. It is her turn now, her turn to comfort him. She kisses his cheek and tells him he's forgiven, tells him that everything will be all right. She knows it will be all right, because she has walked through the fire and reached the other side. She tells him that he is the reason she is still alive, the reason the darkness did not swallow her whole.

He looks into her eyes and sees the truth of her words. He loves her even more.

He tells her so.

Tears fill her eyes. She cannot love him. Not yet.

And so he waits. Day after day, week after week, month after month.

And one day, unexpectedly, she comes.

She comes, and the darkness is defeated.

FIN