Tears
by Gaya Hriive

Rating: G
Ship: Harry & Hermione
Canon: Books 1 - 6
Genre: Drama, Romance
Status: Complete
Length: 490 words in 1 chapter
Published: 10 Nov 2005
Last updated: 10 Nov 2005

Remembrences of a marriage on the latter side of 50 years. Short and sad. I'm sorry.

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/5348/

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1. untitled

Today I sit and think about all the years that have passed and how she was always there for me. I know that if it had
not been for her I never would have been able to defeat Voldemort and start a new life.

She was my rock and my shelter. She comforted me when I was in pain and cheered me when I thought I would never hear the
sound of my own laughter again. She took care of me, nurtured me in every sense of the word.

She was my everything. I lived and breathed only for her, and of course our three children. Sometimes I would become
falsely agitated with her nagging but we both knew that if she didn't get on me then nothing would get done.

Our marriage was a coexistent equilibrium, a symbiotic relationship. She cooked and I ate. She did laundry and I wore
the fresh clean clothes. She loved me more than anything I loved her just a little more than that.

In return, she drew the plans and I built her dream house. She wanted to redecorate every six years or so and I gave her
money. That was her house in every sense of the word and I was just lucky enough to live there peacefully with her.

I can no longer live in Hermione's house. There is not a single corner that I can look on and not see her. She was the
spirit of that house and now that she has died so has that life, that vigor that reverberated off of the walls of our
home.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. For years we planned on me going first. That way she would be able to settle our
debts and she would receive my social security, my pension from the ministry, and my retirement. She would be able to
live comfortably for the rest of her life. But most importantly, that she could live. She could take care of herself
without me. And that was how we planned it would be.

I cannot live without her. I no longer care if I live or die; it doesn't matter to me because I am finished, this is it
for me. Our children are grown with children of their own and they know my grief but they cannot know my loneliness.

So I will wait until I am called home and I may once again see my beautiful wife. I know that she will seem to me just
like she did in the prime of her life, strong and beautiful and unwavering. I hope my time comes soon for I know nothing
of this world any longer and I long to be with my wife, my heart, once more.
