InsaneJournal

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Oblivious!Stephen is oblivious (footfalls) wrote in waitandhope,
@ 2011-05-10 21:30:00

Who: Stephen Cornfoot
What: A grave visit
When: May 2001
Where: A cemetery
Rating: PG

It had been three years. Three years since the war had ended. Three years since Stephen had packed his things and left home. He wouldn’t return to Hogwarts with the others. He had his portfolio, and that had been enough to secure him a job with a paper abroad. He had rarely been back home since, and only at the request of a friend or family member. But today, he was back in England. He had a visit to make, a visit that was a long time coming, and he’d put it off long enough.

The young man who walked through the cemetery, carrying a small bouquet of forget-me-nots, wasn’t quite the awkward, lanky teenager who’d left. There was a confidence that independent living in a foreign country had forced upon him, and the wisdom in his eyes surpassed his twenty-one years. But then, he’d been old for his age at seventeen. Except for romance. He’d gotten a crash course in how to be a boyfriend during the worst year of his life thanks to one Susan Bones.

He didn’t have to wander. Stephen had planned this visit, knew exactly where her grave was. The corner of his lips twitched as he read the headstone and solemnly laid the flowers on the ground where she was buried. “Hey, Susan.” He could already feel the grief welling in his chest, and that familiar instinct to hide or run from his emotions. He needed to do this. He had to get through this.

“I’ve missed you.” He laughed hollowly, shortly. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I couldn’t--it was too much.” The first tear fell, all by itself, and Stephen was sure it wouldn’t be the only one watering her grave this morning. “I don’t think it even hit me until I saw--I just couldn’t take anyone’s word for it, and seeing you like that--I always thought the instinct to run away came from wanting to protect my sisters. But I think part of it was to protect myself.”

He sat down, legs crossed under him, dabbing at his eyes. “I know I’d do it differently if I could go back. I’d have come back after getting the girls out. Maybe if I had, if I’d found you--it’s one of those things I try not to think about, but I can’t help it. That maybe you’d be alive, if I hadn’t been such a coward. Or maybe it would have been me lying there. And I honestly can’t decide which would have been worse.”

The tears were flowing more freely now, and he only occasionally bothered to wipe them away with his handkerchief. “I loved you, and I don’t think I ever said it. I don’t even know if I realized it back then. Because I loved you, but I don’t think I was in love with you, and I was always scared to say it because I didn’t know how you’d respond. I could say it to my family, but I couldn’t ever--everyone always makes such a big deal out of it, and I couldn’t--I’m sorry.”

Reaching into his pocket, Stephen drew out a thin leather-bound book, drumming his fingers against the cover as he pondered it. Looking back at Susan’s headstone, he indicated the book with a little wave. “I’ve started writing a book. Merlin, the farthest thing from what I meant to get my start with. I’ve been all over, studying history and ruins and magical theory and just waiting for inspiration to strike.

“And, I don’t know why, I started reading my journal, and I remembered what I’d done for the Resistance, all those things I wrote. It’s my calling, I guess.” He chuckled and swallowed. “It’s going to be dedicated to you,” he continued somberly after a moment. “To everyone we lost that night, really. But I’m going to make sure your name’s in the dedication. You believed in me when I didn’t want to believe in myself.” The tears came strongly again, and this time he didn’t make any effort to brush them away.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I said it once before, and I meant it. I don’t know what I’d have done that year without you.” Pushing himself to his feet, he brushed the grass and dirt from his robes. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. I’ll never forget you.” Stephen slipped the book back into the pocket of his robes. He stood still for a silent moment, letting the last of his tears fall. And when he had regained his composure, he touched her headstone in a gesture of farewell and made his way out of the cemetery. It was not the last time, he promised himself, he would visit her.