Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Author's Notes: This is just a little drabble I wrote in Language Arts a little while ago. I hope you like it.

An Unwakeable Nightmare

I see him drop behind the veil, almost in slow motion, yet too quickly to fully comprehend what has happened. At first I think he's just fallen down, that he'll get up at any moment, but he doesn't. You tell me he's gone, but I'm too busy fighting back tears to listen.

"This is a dream," I think, "A nightmare." I will myself to wake up, to go back to the way life was before this. I close my eyes.

I don't wake up. As hard as I try, I can't. This is reality. As the full blow hits, I feel as if I've been hit by millions of curses, each more painful and terrible than the other. I can't take it; the reality is too harsh, too unpleasant to stand. There's a stinging behind my eyes as I try to hold back the tears that threaten to fall, but they come anyway.

"He's dead," you say, sounding on the verge of tears. He's dead. These words echo over and over in my head, each time cutting deeper, harder into the wound already present.

Soon I'm weeping, weeping harder than I ever have, icy sorrow running down my cheeks in rivers. This hurts more that I ever imagined something could hurt. It's worse than physical pain, so much worse.

I will never forget this pain, this anguish, and I will never forget him, though I will try to block out the image of him falling behind the veil and dying.