Vigil: Vigil
by potterverse
He awoke to the smell of the earth. Disoriented, he turned on his side and brushed the dirt off his clothes. Lying on his back and looking up he saw exactly where he was. He looked up at the tombstone and read her upside-down name. He sat up slowly, with effort. The sky was turning violet as the sun was just on the verge of rising. There were lighter streaks of rose creeping up on the horizon. He knew he had to get back to school, before the students stirred. They were probably still full of sweets and dinner, tired from the festivities the night before. It pained him, every year; people celebrated the day his heart had died.

As atonement for the world’s frivolity, he made his annual pilgrimage to the hallowed spot on All Hallows Eve. In the graveyard he found his solace and sorrow. He laid down his body, heart, and soul, and mourned the loss of himself and his love. He often wondered if her son was touched by that fateful day. If it haunted his memory, but then again Harry couldn’t truly grieve over his mother, because he had no knowledge of who she really was. Potter could only mourn her memory and his loss of an existence without her.

With these thoughts stirring in his mind, he unsteadily picked himself up off the ground and brushed off the night from his robes. The horizon was now a blazing red, bleeding across the sky. He must hurry. As he walked away, he turned back one last time, looking at the cold grey stone, a slight envy in his heart. Sometimes he wished he could be laid in the earth and put an end to the struggle, to finally rest. He whispered, huskily, “At least you are at peace, my love.”


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