Graveyard

Rick Black apparated into the space just beyond where the fence that was guarding the Godric's Hollow Graveyard ended and the entrance began. Taking no time to gather his bearings, he strode into the graveyard and headed to the gravesite that was the cause of this visit.

On his left he saw the graves of the Potter's-James and Lily. He stopped for a moment and inclined his head before continuing down the path. The gravel crunched under his feet and the wind blew the trees into a frenzy of branches. Night had begun to fall and any sunshine had been masked upon his arrival. Dark, thunderous clouds began to fill the sky. It was going to rain. Sure enough, a minute down the path from the Potters gravesite, a slight mist began to fall before an exceptionally loud thunderclap marked the beginning of the heavy downpour now falling on all the unmoving occupants of the graveyard and the one lone figure moving briskly down the ever twisting pathway.

The graves Rick was planning on visiting were at the far back end of the cemetery. If one was watching from afar, one would wonder why Rick did not just apparate to the grave sites themselves. But there were reasons; oh yes, they're were reasons. The walk to the back of the cemetery afforded Rick the time he needed to remember. Remember...he never seemed to remember anymore. Only when he was here did the memories come flooding back to him, as they were now. A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky followed by a loud thunder clap that sent the birds flying. The lightning also illuminated Rick's face, which was a veritable mask of sorrow. Normal day to day procedures didn't afford him the oppurtunity to reflect on his past, but this was not a normal procedure for him.

Rick turned the final corner of the narrow path and came upon the graves of his family. His wife, Erin's grave was at the head of the family plots. Memories of the two of them together brought more sorrow to his face. A moonlit dinner at his old house, a kiss under the mistletoe during their first Christmas as a couple, a snowball fight on Christmas day. A different life, a different time. He bowed his head for a full minute standing in the pouring rain letting the memories wash over him. Memories that he wouldn't dare let himself relive under normal circumstances. The Dark Lord had no place in his regime for broad human emotions. Sick, twisted happiness and hot, volatile anger dominated any and all emotions in his presence.

Rick turned to the right of his wife's grave and his vision rested on his son's equally magnificently simple headstone. The words Randy William Black adorned the face of his son's grave. Memories of his only boy's first Quidditch match, his first brrom ride, and finally of his first trip to Hogwarts filled Rick's thoughts and flared his already unstable emotions. A single tear fell from his face, unnoticed by any but him as the rain continued to pound on his back. Here too he lowered his head as another tear escaped his face.

He turned his head one last time to the right of his son's grave and rested his gaze on his one and only daughter, his pride and joy, his little princess. The word's 'Sarah Jean Black' and 'Her Father's Princess' lined the face of the grave, with a magical drawing of her face adorning the bottom of the stone. Alike most wizarding photgraphs and posters and things, her picture was capable of movement. The portrait of his little girl stared up at her father with sorrow written on her angelic stone face. Here, memories of Sarah running and giving her Dad a hug after work, crawling into his bed when a storm was raging outside, and her joy at each and every holiday filled his head. The sorrow he felt was so great that Rick fell to his knees as painful sobs wracked his body. Tears were falling freely as memories of his family ran rampant through his mind. His son and daughter arguing over who got to help decorate the tree and put the star on top for Christmas, the eventual reconciliation of said argument; his whole family smiling and laughing at the annual family picnic; and finally that faithful day when his family was blessed with the news that Erin was expecting another child. The very last grave in the row of family plots was headed 'Our Unborn Child' as the baby was never born. They hadn't known if it was a boy or a girl, so 'child' seemed appropriate.

For a long time Rick sat on his knees letting the sobs escape him and leave him emotionally drained before he was able to get up to leave. As he left he ran his hand over each and everyone of his family's graves, ending with his daughter Sarah. The portrait Sarah looked up at her Dad and watched as he knelt down and rested his forehead against the cool stone. His little girl had always been the most important thing in his life. He almost died trying to protect her that dreaded night. He would have given his life if it could have brought her back, or any of his family back for that matter. No one understood his pain, no one. With a sorrowful face, he returned to the pathway and walked back to the entrance, stopping only once at the Potters' graves to say, "No parent should ever have to bury their child. I think you were lucky, you never had to know this kind of pain." He apparated out of the graveyard when he reached the entrance.