Love is All Around

"My brother just died." That is not a sentence you think that you will say when you are almost seventeen and he is...was in his twenties.

The rain poured from the sky; it is the only fitting weather for today. I watched his pure white casket get lowered into the ground by my other brothers. They kept their wands steady as tears washed down their cheeks mixing with the rain. My father delivered the eulogy, later he said that those were the hardest words he had ever spoken. His hands trembled as he held the paper in front of him; he looked weaker and more fragile than I had ever seen him. My sister was in complete disbelief. Her eyes were wide and she shook her head through most of the funeral. She sat next to my mother who shook the entire ceremony. When his casket began to levitate, she almost shook out of her chair until my father, who had finished with the eulogy, put his quaking arms around her. I was flanked by my two best friends, they were family now. One had anger and hatred in his green eyes, vengeance would be his way of grieving for everyone. My other companion let her tears fall into the ground as nourishing as the rain. She squeezed my hand the entire time which allowed me to pass some of my anguish into her tears. I sat rigidly throughout the memorial service completely immobile except for my lungs, my heart and my hand.

There was a large crowd seated in the cemetery. He had meant so much. Most of the people who attended were crying; his fiancée was no exception. Our loss had brought people together; even some who look terrible in white robes. All of us, together, had even conquered the old adage that witches melted in the rain.

My parents always prayed that this would never happen to them; that they would have to bury their own child. His coffin settled in its place six feet below the ground. Dirt was piled on top of the gleaming wooden box that was all that was left of my brother. A few people stood to leave; the service was over. More and more people left their seats leaving empty rows and his family, my family.

My mother had stopped shaking. Her body had gone limp as she cried her emotions into the earth. The only thing that kept her from falling from her chair was my father, whose grip was weak; his drained body could barely stand the burden. My sister leaned over and pulled my mother upright which allowed my father to abandon his near futile attempts at supporting her. All three were crying or were stubbornly trying to blink away the tears.

I sat motionless, barely blinking; my eyes dry, along with my mouth and throat. My hands were soaked with perspiration and rain but one of them was still clutched warmly in the hand of another. My other friend was less tense now. He had seen my mother and my father struggling to stay upright. He had seen my other brothers, normally strong and mischievous, break down and become as limp as a discarded rag doll. He was more empathetic now. He knows what it is like; he knows the horror and pain of losing someone. He can feel nothing.

My hand was still grasped in hers. She had stopped crying. Now she was looking around as if trying to distract herself from everything. She felt my eyes on her and turned to look at me. She caught my gaze. And, as we held eye contact, I squeezed her hand to remind her that we, both, could feel. At this moment a tear trickled down from the corner of her eye to show that she, indeed, knew. I took my free hand and brought it up to her face. I wiped her tear away and let my hand linger on her face, just for a second. Then, something new was reflected in her eyes; there was something other than pain and sorrow. There was something I should know a lot about. It was love. I took her hands with both of mine, and we were closer than I have ever been with anyone. I leaned toward her as she tilted her head towards me. Our lips made vicarious but fleeting contact and, as brief as the kiss was, it changed everything. Our worlds were smashed together. The world of wonder and amazement that we had just created and the cold, harsh, brutality of the real world were melded into one. Everything was easier but more difficult. Nothing is as it was but everything was still there.

I tore myself away from my broken worlds and clasped my dark-haired friend's shoulder. He looked up and nodded. We all stood at the same time unknowingly drenching our feet with the accumulated rain. He gave a terse nod at the newly packed dirt and a lingering look filled with pain and vengeance. She gave the mound a little wave and two more tears to add to the saturated soil. I gave the remnants of my brother a salute and a hard won grin that quivered even as I brought it down. I touched my white-clad friend's arm as he turned away from the grave and looked at us once more, his bright eyes burning through his glasses. I gave my other companion's hand a quick squeeze and we walked off in the direction of the exit, together. We walked away from my broken parents and distraught siblings; empty white chairs; freshly laid dirt that was turning to mud; and a tombstone that read:

R.I.P

William Arthur Weasley

"Love Is All Around, So

All You Need Is Love"