Beautiful. You have such a unique cadence to your storytelling, it's almost poetry. I loved the way it lulled me along, showing flashes and glimpses of scenes and pictures. And emotions and looks. It was hopeful and heartbreaking at the same time. I wasn't sure how it was going to end, but when it did, I think I finally released the breath I had been holding.
And not to paste your whole story back to you, but I didn't want there to be any confusion as to what part I am praising. This was simply gorgeous:
*
No one knew where the beginning was.
After green ricocheted on red and the world collapsed and had to be rebuilt between funerals and tears and eons of loss (gaping holes where children and parents and lovers should fit), things were found – things like love and generosity and four pairs of Luna’s shoes that had survived the crumbling of a tower – while other things disappeared – like trust and family and the twins’ laughter. George tried, but it sounded thin and hollow by itself. Harry noticed other things, too. Felt the absence of fingers that could stir sin, of a tongue that commanded silence and screams.
And they tried to keep going, despite the ache of empty spaces, empty chairs, holes in conversations. And Harry felt naked without him.