Author: The Plot Bunny Whisperer (A.K.A. Baniigaaru, Banii-chan, Phee)
Genre: Tragedy, Romance,
Summary: I don't think I ever realized how much they meant to each other until that day… HPLM, mentions of DMLL
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, okay? Don't rub it in. ::sulks::
Had someone told me, years ago, that two people who lived together for most of their lives and were so deeply in love would die within days of each other simply from the pain of their beloved's passing, I would have laughed and written it off as a romantic fancy suited only for novels. But were someone to tell me that today, I would only smile and say, "I know. I was there."
Because I do know. And I was there.
"It's only a matter of time."
"Yes, dear. I will."
"You know I will wait for you."
"…Yes. I know."
I didn't mean to eavesdrop, that day. But I'm glad, now, that I did. I'd been carrying two glasses of water to my great-grandparent's room when I'd heard them talking, and hung guiltily outside of the door.
Grandpa Lucius had been ailing for quite some time. Somehow, though, everyone knew today would be his last, so we gathered together at their home to comfort his husband of one hundred and thirteen years. It's hard getting us all together. We usually end up fighting and not speaking to each other for a month, though never longer. Grandpa Harry never let it last.
It's uncomfortable, and kind of weird, sitting around to wait for you grandparent to die. To simply have an excuse to leave the sitting room, I offered to bring my great grandparents a cup of water. I don't think anyone noticed me leave.
I took my time filling the glasses and taking them upstairs. I'm glad I did, or I would have intruded on something I really didn't want to intrude on. I stood numbly in the hall after they were done speaking, and I jumped when my name was called from inside of the room. I never did learn how she did it.
"Lucrezia." I juggled the glasses clumsily and went inside.
"Yes, Grandpa?" Grandpa Harry sat next to Grandpa Lucius's bed in a tall-backed wicker chair, holding his hand. Grandpa Lucius lay on the bed. He looked as though he was sleeping peacefully, but I knew better. I set the glasses on the table.
"Lucrezia." Grandpa Harry's eyes were older and wearier than I had ever seen them before. "Lucrezia, my dear, I believe I may need your assistance." He stood, and I offered my arm out to him. Together, we left the room and we did not look back.
When we arrived at the foot of the stairs, Mum burst into tears while Dad awkwardly tried to comfort her. The rest were less vocal in their grief. Grandma Luna, Grandpa Lucius's daughter-in-law, simply stood and took Grandpa Harry into her arms. The only dry eyes in the room were the little ones, who didn't know better, those who felt numb, including myself, and Grandpa Harry.
Grandma Luna told me, later, that Grandpa Harry did not grieve as hard because he knew he would not be without his husband for very long. I didn't understand, then.
I do, now.
Grandpa Lucius was buried in the family plot alongside his ancestors and only son, Grandpa Draco. It was raining that day. I thought it fitting. The ceremony was led by one of my uncles. It was short, just the way he would have wanted it.
We all stayed at the manor those few days. In the aftermath of the funeral, we saw very little of Grandpa Harry. We saw him at a few meals, but otherwise never. Were it not for Grandma Luna, we were sure he'd starve himself.
And then, on the third night after the funeral, he showed himself. That night, he stayed with us for hours. We went though photos and memories and cake until we were tired and happy and full. Then he bid us goodnight, and gave us his love, and went off to bed.
We found him in the morning. He had passed away in his sleep.
Later, we learned of what had kept him busy those last few days. He was writing the will, writing many letters, and tying all of the loose ends together. I was one of those that received a letter, but I won't tell you what it said.
Grandpa Harry's funeral was just like Grandpa Lucius's, though a different uncle led it. We buried him next to Grandpa Lucius, where they shared a single headstone, which read: Lucius Augustine Malfoy – Harry James Potter-Malfoy. "Together In Life. Together In Death."
I don't doubt the stories of true love anymore. I simply smile, and say, "I know. I was there."
AN: Yes, it's weird and confusing. I know. And yes, Draco is dead, yes, he was married to Luna, and no, I'm not going to tell you how he died. (Actually, I don't know myself. ::sheepish:: )