Friends Never Say Goodbye

Friends Never Say Goodbye

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There isn't much I haven't shared
With you along the road
And though it all there'd always be
Tomorrow's episode

It was raining the day I found out. I suppose it was mid-morning and I was sitting at breakfast in my flat when I got the call from Hermione, but I'm not sure really. That entire day was just a blur of confusion - a mix of dark, sad, beautiful colors. Perhaps I didn't believe it at first, but denial never helps anyone, as they say. As Hermione talked to me, I sat in silence on the floor of my kitchen with tears in my eyes. Until then, it had been at least five years since I had cried. Maybe I didn't want to believe it, or maybe I though it was impossible, but I knew deep inside that it was true and that's why I cried. That's why on that rainy winter morning I cried for the first time without him there to tell me it was alright, and even Hermione was too far way to really comfort me.

Hermione... I found it amazing how strong a woman she really grew to be. Even under the circumstances she managed to keep the composure that was so typical of her. I feel awful that I would dare to cry over it when she lost so much more than I did. Her husband, the father of her three children, and her best friend. She beat me out three to one in losses, but I couldn't help but cry then. "Everything will be alright," she had said to me as though it were just a pet we had lost, but deep down she was hurting far more than I, which gave her all the more reason to be strong.

Suddenly that isn't true
There's another avenue
Beckoning the great divide
Ask no questions, take no side

We never would find out how exactly it happened or have any closure because, even with Mr. Weasley's constant insisting that the inspection continue, the person who did it would never be caught.

Hermione had his family and myself over for dinner that night. We ate in complete silence hardly even exchanging glances. Once dinner was done we were going to have desert, but no once even motioned to touch there cake. Maybe it was because cakes are associated with celebration and there was nothing to celebrate or just because no one had an appetite left in them. No one really questioned it though.

Who's to say who's right or wrong
Who's course is braver run
Still we are, have always been
Will ever be as one

Once the dishes were cleaned off the table, Ginny, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley began washing them while the men all went into the small family room. As we sit there, we all know what the other is thinking, we can see it on our faces. Without saying a word, we talk about how he was so good at chess and so proud of all he had been. We all knew he had been one of the most generous people and we silently contemplated who and why.

It was the sort of thing that moves you, confuses you and the drives you to the wall then leave you distraught, but alone. And even though we were sitting there, all seven of us men, together, we were still very much alone. Each one preparing to mourn in their own way, to cope with loss how they best did. We could tell, as it was written on our faces, just how each would mourn, but knew not how we would ourselves because it is easy to be certain of another's heart, but harder still to be certain of your own.

What is done has been done for the best
Though the mist in my eyes might suggest
Just a little confusion about what I'd lose
But if I started over, I know I would chose

Memories. That was all we had now, just memories. I can remember meeting him on the train before I knew anything about wizardry. I remember noticing the smudge of dirt on his nose and how Fred and George teased him when Mrs. Weasley tried to wipe it off and he resisted. And, I remember that right then I wish I had an older brother to tease me without meaning what they said - just because that's how he showed he cared. And, I suppose I got what I wanted. A brother, though not older, just the same age as me. We were inseparable from the very start.

And then we met Hermione. Before long, she had joined our group and we were the best of friends. There was nothing we did without the others, save bathe and use the loo, but everyone does that alone. We knew what the others we thinking, which might be why Hermione would say "Oh no, Harry!" or "Don't even think that, Ron!" we neither of us had said anything. I remember how we had thought Hermione was nutty before she became our friend. Ron, especially thought she was off her rocker. Ironic, though, that those two would be married and have children. Ironic, but perfect nonetheless.

The same joy, the same sadness
Each step of the way
That fought me and taught me
That friends never say

(Say, Never say) Goodbye

We sat in silence for maybe two hours before everyone left. I made my way back to my flat in the rain and by the time I had scaled the steps to the floor where my flat was, my half soaked clothes had begun to dry off. Though, as I dug though my pocket for my keys, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw a face from the past. That same pointy face and bright blonde hair that had tormented me for seven years of my life. And he was standing here, a bouquet of wild flowers in his right hand and no expression on his face.

It was a different expressionless though, not his usual that I remembered, but an almost sad, somber blankness. His gray eyes were different after five years, and there was something unbreakable in them that I seemed to trust. After the initial shock, I invited him in, speaking for the first time all day.

Suddenly that isn't true
There's another avenue
Beckoning the great divide
I would chose

We talked for a good long time, not even noticing, or caring about, the time. I was quite shocked, to be honest, at how many positive things he had to say about Ron, how many things he had admired in him. He brought up the time Ron cursed himself and was spitting up slugs, and we laughed together over it, and I noticed his laugh wasn't in mockery, but something different. But, even more amazing was when he said he was sorry for all he had done and said in the past. And, strange as it sounds, I could understand why he had done it back then. He was after all, Draco Malfoy, and he had had a reputation to hold up to.

By the time he said he should get going, it was already past three in the morning, so I had him spend the night, and, I guess at some point I woke up crying and he heard because I remember his arms around me, and I remember how he said "It's alright, everything's alright," just like Ron had when I used to wake up from nightmares. And, I remember Ron's warmth with a different scent.

The same joy, the same sadness
Each step of the way
That fought me and taught me
That friends never say

(Say, Never say) Goodbye

It's been a year now, a lot of things have changed but there isn't a single day that goes by when we all don't think about Ron. Dinner at Hermione's place is a huge social event now, and one of the strangest looking ones at that. When the entire Weasley family is there, fourteen of us have to fit round the small kitchen table, and we always seem to manage it perfectly.

But there is no dinner tonight, not for me anyway. Tonight I am standing at Ron's grave, contemplating, like I did the day it happened. Only, tonight, there are no tears in my eyes and a small smile is on my lips. I place down the bouquet of flowers, making sure to keep my umbrella over all of me as I bend down. Funny, I think, that it would rain on the same day a year later.

Draco clears his throat from behind me, and I step back, letting him up toward the stone. He had an envelope in his hand. And though I know it's a letter he wrote for Ron, I have no idea of what the contents of the letter are. I suppose it's not my business, really, to know what it says, so I try not to wonder. After he sets down the letter and takes a silent moment to himself, we turn to walk back our of the small London graveyard and toward our flat.

Then, just as his headstone is out of sight, we smile at each other and the rain turns into snow.