CANYON MOON ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME ONE
━━ ❛ 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚 ❜

chapter no. 010!

     BY MIDNIGHT, THE DARKNESS CONSUMING THE ATMOSPHERE WAS ALMOST ABSOLUTE. Only a modicum of gleaming stars scattered across the heavens. Even the moon had waned to almost nothing other than another black dot in the sky.

     Everything about the night sky matched Fawn's mood as she reluctantly walked up to the marble steps and headed for the front door of the small cottage she called home.

     The last time she'd been on the foot of the premises was at the beginning of the school year. It was now late November— nearly December. Throughout the past few months, she and Davey had communicated solely through letters that they wrote every other week. It was something that always comforted her; caused a smile to tug at her lips whenever she opened the envelopes. Now, she was never going to receive one ever again.

     Another person was gone. Another person was taken away from her too soon.

     "Fawn?"

     Blinking, the blonde realized that she was standing in front of the front door. She'd been so consumed and wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't realized that she'd been standing at the door for a solid minute.

     "Are you okay?"

     Fawn turned her head to the left, looking at Bob Ogden, who was solemn. He'd been spending the past three days consumed, once again, in the tangled mess of the Depraysie murder and now, Davey Gudgeon's murder. The chief had been there since the beginning. He was the only one who knew everything about her family. After all, he'd been in the aftermath every time— helping the young girl pick up the broken pieces of her family.

     "Considering he was murdered in my bedroom, I'm fairly certain that the answer to that question is quite plain," Fawn spoke bluntly, trying to hold onto whatever string of strength she had left not to break down into another set of tears.

     From behind the blonde, Hermione frowned deeply, troubled by how calm the girl sounded. Bob nodded, knowing not to push her. He silently unlocked the door and shoved it open, gesturing for the two girls to walk in first. Noticing her hesitance to go inside, Hermione reached for Fawn's hand, squeezing it lightly.

     At the feeling of the brunette's hand against her own, Fawn breathed in deeply, interlacing their fingers together before she moved forward, rolling her luggage behind her as they walked in. Bob flicked on the lights after he had closed the door, locking it silently.

     The moment the house was flooded with an abundance of light, Fawn immediately noticed the yellow tape that crossed off the stairs. Every aspect of the cozy cottage looked normal and tranquil until one noticed the hurricane that was leading to the second floor. Pictures on the wall leading upstairs were crooked; a few of them had dried drops of blood splattered across the frames. At the foot of the steps, there were evidence markers left behind by the Magical Law Enforcement officers.

     "I'll be taking the couch for tonight. You two can have the guest bedroom down here." Bob cleared his throat, shrugging off his winter coat and placing it on the coat stand.

     "How bad is it? Upstairs?" Fawn asked, using her wand and casting a nonverbal spell, watching as she and Hermione's belongings floated to the guest room.

    Sliding off his shoes, the bald man sighed. "January bad," Bob admitted, referring to the horrendous crime scene from the night the blonde's parents were murdered.

     Hermione glanced at Fawn, noticing the conflicted look in her eyes. A part of her heart ached at the pain she could see the girl was in, and she winced, wanting more than anything to take it all away.

     "What can you tell me about the case? Was it him?"

     "Fawn, you know I can't discuss ongoing cases. We've addressed this before."

     "This is Davey, Bob. Davey. You know what this means."

     The chief sucked in a deep breath, giving the blonde a pointed look at her words. Yes, he knew what Davey's death meant, but that didn't mean he was going to break the laws of his job. "When the Magical Law Enforcement is ready to make an official statement or conclusion, you will be the first to know," he compromised, plopping down on the couch in the living room.

     "What about an unofficial statement?" Fawn pushed, crossing her arms as she followed after. She was determined to get something out of him. She needed to know what happened and if it was one hundred percent Voldemort who did this. There was no doubt in her mind it was, but she just needed to hear the words— to know for a fact that he was the murderer.

     "Fawn—"

     "Bob, you have to give me something here. Was it or was it not him? Is Davey's death going to get swept under the rug like my parents' and remain cold?" she snapped.

     Hermione's brows furrowed, growing more confused by the second. Her knowledge about Fawn's family and parents was extremely limited, especially regarding what happened earlier this year. Up until three days ago, she was under the impression that the blonde's parents were still alive. Since then, Fawn had only told her a little about what happened, but not enough to where she could decipher the hidden messages in the words she was using with Bob Ogden.

     "It was him." Bob sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress. His words knocked the breath out of Fawn, and she unconsciously reached for Hermione's hand, to which the brunette immediately met her halfway without a second thought.

     It was Voldemort. He murdered Davey.

     This meant that the murder of the new Head of the Auror Office would be publicly classified as 'cold' soon enough. No one would ever know the truth about who had killed him. At least not for a long time.

     Checkmate.

     Fawn's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. It was he who sent the letter. It was his way of letting her know that she was next— anyone she loved was next. Moving her eyes to the Gryffindor, she felt her heart drop.

     That meant she could never tell her the truth. If she told her, Fawn would only be signing her death certificate, and she had just gotten her. She finally got the brunette she'd had a crush on forever, and there was no way in hell that she would do anything to jeopardize that.

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     THE SUN SHONE BRILLIANTLY, AND THE AZURE COLOR OF THE WINTER MORNING UNDER ITS GLARE WAS OFFENSIVELY BRIGHT AND TRANQUIL. It was as if Mother Nature had conspired to show her how the world would go on without him when it shouldn't; rub it in that he was gone. How could she go on now? Knowing that it was her fault that he was dead? Was it her fault that her family dropped dead like flies around her?

     It is said that a person can suffer more from a guilty conscience than anything else and that guilt can drive them to insanity.

     There was not one bone, muscle, or inch of Fawn that didn't not believe that.

     She felt like she was going insane— keeping what she knew and had been through to herself. Although she wished to confide in the beautiful brunette, she couldn't force herself to. Hermione could be next, and that thought terrified her.

     A soft nudge to the side was what woke her up from the living dream she'd found herself stuck in while walking towards the church. Moving her head to the left, she met the perturbed gaze of the Gryffindor. Brunette curls framed her face as she peered back at her, concern etched across her features. "Hey," Hermione whispered, "we don't have to go through with this if you don't want to."

     Fawn's eyes traced over her caring expression, smiling lightly. "I have to. I'm giving the closing eulogy. Davey said in his will that he wanted me to; I have to. I owe him that," she murmured.

     Walking to the entrance of the church felt like an eternity as she kept getting stopped by unfamiliar faces and tongues, all of them relaying their condolences and remarking on how amazing a man Davey was. Fawn could only force a small smile and nod, barely breathing out a "thank you" to every person as she held tightly onto Hermione's hand, her anxiety on high alert.

     Allowing the latter to take control, she followed behind her as she pushed their way between people, racing up the steps. Conjoined voices called out to her as the two disappeared into the building, leaving behind the early morning chaos that was bound to worsen after that day.

     In the pit of her stomach, the blonde felt sick. There was an unstoppable storm of panic, anger, and despair bubbling inside of her, and she could feel every move it made. Her wide sky-blue eyes swept around the pew, landing on the headshot of Davey placed right next to a cherry-stained coffin that was, thankfully, closed. Just the sight of his face, combined with the already built-up anxiety and sense of overwhelmingness, was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

     This is happening.

     As she stood, frozen to the spot, in the middle of the aisle, unresponsive to the girl who was desperately trying to get her to snap out of her daze, all she could hear was the sound of her heart beating rapidly and the sound of Davey's laughter in the faint distance.

     Everything seemed to fade from view and mind as the blonde focused on the singular photo, hot tears coming to her eyes. The bottom of her mouth dropped slightly as her throat felt like it was swelling up.

     "Fawn, hey, look at me." A voice called, but it sounded as if it were lightyears away; the words muffled and contorted. The floor felt like melting ice, and the room seemed to spin as those sky-blue eyes never once strayed from the headshot. There was a tug on the blonde's hand, but she didn't notice, for she was too emerged in the everlasting consumption of fear and grief. "I'm right here, Fawn. I'm right here. Just breathe."

     Blinking, everything flew back into view, and the sound of her heartbeat was no longer present. She gasped, bringing her hand up to her throat and lightly placing it on her chest.

     "You need to sit down," Hermione whispered, pulling at the girl's hand again. Fawn merely nodded before the brunette gently led her to the first row, sitting the two down. Washing her eyes over her, Hermione frowned deeply, noticing the wobbling expression on the girl's face as she was still staring at the portrait.

     Reaching over, she placed her hand under the blonde's chin, gently turning her head so their eyes could meet. "Hey," she whispered quietly, tucking strands of blonde hair behind Fawn's ear. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please remember that I'm right here. I'm not leaving you, alright? I'm right here."

     Without realizing it, Fawn had intertwined their fingers while Hermione was talking, taking in a great deal of comfort at the simple gesture. She nodded, pressing her lips together in an attempt to stop the slight tremble tugging at her bottom lip.

     Closing her eyes, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against Hermione's as people began to tumble in, taking their seats.

     "Thank you," Fawn choked out, tightening her grip on the brunette's hand.

     "Of course," Hermione whispered, pulling away as Bob walked up to the two.

     "It's almost time. Miss Granger, you can sit behind us. There are others coming to sit up here," Bob breathed, giving her a gentle smile. She nodded, squeezing Fawn's hand one last time before letting go, much to both of their dismay and standing up, making her way to the next row.

     A heavy sigh escaped the blonde's lips as she leaned back against the bench, running her hand over her face in distress.

     Soon, it would be time to give the eulogy she'd written late last night after Hermione had fallen asleep— the eulogy that would be closing the door on another relationship.

     Reaching into the pockets of her black blazer, she pulled out the wrinkled pieces of parchment, staring at the written words with a sour taste in her mouth. Quickly folding them back up, she let out a shaky breath.

     The next fifteen minutes felt like a disoriented blur to her because before she knew it, she was being called to take the podium. No noise was heard except for the heels clicking softly against the floor as Fawn anxiously made her way up the steps, slowly reaching the speaker's stand. The moment she turned around, she was met with a sea of faces staring back at her with either glossy eyes, tears tumbling down their cheeks, or anticipation for what the god-daughter of a Ministry Auror had to say about the last member of the family she had left.

     A muscle involuntarily twitched in her fingers as they sprawled themselves out over the wrinkled eulogy, shakily smoothing out the pages.

     Breathe.

     Fawn let out a quiet breath before looking up from the stand and into the great abyss. Her gaze automatically landed on the first two rows on the right. Hermione sat in the second one next to Professors Dumbledore and Slughorn, both of whom were staring back at her with calm and solemn expressions, and Hermione gave the blonde an encouraging smile. Fawn nodded slightly as she moved her focus to the first row, where Bob sat with Archibald Vince, Davey's childhood best friend, and fellow Ministry officers who were sitting further down on the row.

     Clenching her fists together tightly, she pressed her lips together before glancing down one last time at the written words.     

     "He always seemed to be able to make things right, even when they were wrong. I don't know how he did it; how he created this sphere of phlegmatic eeriness inside of my chest whenever our eyes would meet." Fawn drew in a deep breath, her sky-blue eyes now roaming over the sea of familiar and foreign faces. Moving her gaze back down to the wrinkled-up piece of parchment, the ink-printed words that had once been written in a precise yet messy fashion were now becoming blurred. "Over the past sixteen years, Davey has taught me more than any Professor or authoritative figure ever has or ever will. Learning lessons is a phenomenon in life that is endless. There is never one singular moment in a person's life where they solidly believe that they have learned everything there is to know to survive, to live.

     "So, we experience these life lessons on a continuous loop. Sometimes, it takes two, three, or four times for someone to go through something enough before they can finally come to terms with the depth of what it is they've suffered at the hands of. It took me five too many times to learn a lesson that should never be taught to anyone of my age. That lesson is loss. Grief. For nine years, I have suffered from an immense amount of loss, and throughout every funeral, every anniversary, and every moment— Davey was right there. 

     "At times, it felt like he was this envisage that originated in my mind after my parents were murdered," she paused, her fingers reaching up and curling around the edges of the scratchy parchment, crumbling it into a tight ball. "He would appear so naturally quintessential at times that I nearly forgot that he was a real person who took up the same amount of space and time that I, and everyone else, do. The bubble of light inside of him shone through all the chaos and darkness that I tend to find myself living in at times. That light made him so enchanting and likable to everyone who would meet him.

     "Whenever times were at their worst, and it felt like there was no hope or ray of sunshine left from the sun, Davey and his inexplicable bubble of light would bring me back. He was my rock; the only person who knew me better than I know myself; the only person who took care of me when I was left stranded— alone. Davey Gudgeon is the person I wish I could be; good; through and through." Fawn said, her voice cracking. The church was solemnly silent as the blonde gathered herself together, pushing herself to say the final words.

     "A certain l-light," she cleared her throat, pushing down the ever-growing lump in her throat. "A certain light has been extinguished forever in my heart, and as I stand here, I can't help but almost refuse to acknowledge the finality that is death itself, but I know, deep down, that it is inevitable. It... It's something none of us can stop, although we wish we could. So, hold on to your loved ones a little tighter, and allow yourself to drown in the warmth of those you care about. Let someone give you that bubble of light you may need. Thank you."

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     EVERYONE HAD THEIR HEAD DOWN. Maybe they were doing it out of respect for what was coming or simply just to avoid the inescapable truth that someone they'd called a friend was gone.

     The air surrounding the graveyard was emersed in an anxious awaiting as they walked towards the rectangular-shaped hole in the ground. Fawn was the only one who didn't have her eyes glued to the frost-covered grass. Instead, her eyes were attached to the dark, stained cherry wooden coffin that was being carried in front of her. Six Ministry officials had their hands wrapped tightly around the bars of the coffin, never once buckling under its weight. Their facial expressions ranged from emotionless to sorrow to pain. Two of the six men had worked under Davey for years and knew his family well enough to be invited to the annual gatherings he held that Fawn made a point of rarely showing up to, for socializing was never her favorite thing to do.

     The mass of wizards stopped underneath an old willow tree, the elongated branches tickling their backs and arms as they watched the coffin being placed upon the lowering device.

     People readjusted themselves, gradually forming a circle around the soon-to-be grave.

     Breathing in deeply, Fawn joined Bob and Archibald at the front of the coffin. Her eyes couldn't help but sweep over the scene, feeling more overwhelmed than she did before in the church. Tears were streaking down some people's cheeks while others wrapped their arms around their loved ones, pressing kisses to the tops of their heads. Everyone had their family there to support them and celebrate the memory of Davey Gudgeon, while Fawn couldn't help but feel more alone than ever.

     Despite having the girl she fancied a great deal with her, an unsettling wave of despondency ate at the edges of her heart.

    It was as if every inch of life left in her was being squeezed out as she looked upon the sea of people, growing envious that everyone seemed to have their family with them. A privilege they didn't even realize they had. She would never be able to see any of her family ever again. They were all dead, and where did that leave her? Alone.

     Struggling to hold back the flood of tears that were blurring her vision and causing her throat to close up, she quickly moved her gaze to the ground.

     "I have known Davey Gudgeon my whole life. He was my irritating next-door neighbor, and best mate all rolled into one." Archibald began, his bright green eyes glancing at the blonde on his right. "He was also the person who took me in when I got fired from my first job and lost my flat. For a year, I slept on his old, creeky, navy blue couch that he refused to get rid of because his god-daughter picked it out when she was two." Fawn looked up, blinking back tears as she stared at the brown-haired man.

     "A week ago, he told me that he wouldn't be here to help protect the wizards of our community anymore soon. I asked him what he meant by that. He only responded by saying that he had written his own eulogy and wanted me to speak it for him. I was taken aback," Archibald breathed, pulling out a neatly folded slip of parchment from his pocket. "But you don't say no to a request like that from your best mate."

    Fawn bit down on her bottom lip, cold tears running down her cheeks as she could barely make out the cursive letters spelled out on the parchment.

     "So, here is the eulogy Davey wrote about himself, and he said to make sure everyone laughed because if nobody did, he would know." A soft cluster of chuckles collectively echoed, and Fawn rolled her eyes lightly. Of course, Davey would say that.

     "No one is to wear black to this; it's too late now if you are. I'm watching, and I'm pissed, but I'm sure I'll get over it. Also, no one is to cry. So, suck it up. Smile because you knew me. Hopefully, I did something stupid and embarrassing and made some of you laugh at some point. Hopefully, I did everything in my power to be there for you. Hopefully, I will leave this world with somewhat of a positive impact. So, smile. Smile, alright? Smile because I told you to. You know I don't do well with tears.

     "Remember me however you wish to, although I would prefer if you remembered me as an amazingly handsome Auror who was smooth with all the ladies and didn't argue with Fudge over every little thing he did. Yes, even in death, I will still hate that man. Huh, death... Death is a fickle thing; difficult to avoid. The word itself holds so much promise within it, it's hard to believe that this is happening... I'm leaving, but that's life, isn't it? You play the long game until you've rolled the last dice? Well, this is my last go around the board, and I'll tell you this: It's been hell. Sometimes fun, but hell.

     "This is not a hoax, so go ahead and get that thought out of your mind. I am very much dead. There is no door number one that I'm hiding behind, but I am still around. Like I said earlier, I'm watching. I hope that whatever happens to this God-forsaken world is good and we find some way to take back our community. I hope wherever any of you end up, it's in a good place, and you find whatever it is you may be searching for.

     "Lastly, to my beautiful god-daughter, Fawn," Archibald paused, brushing away his tears and turning slightly towards the blonde, "I know this feels like the end of the world. I know that you're petrified. I know what my death means, but you're going to be okay. You are going to be okay. Despite what we know is coming, we also know that you will make it. You've survived so much already; you're no stranger to death, so don't allow mine to be the one that causes your world to crumble. If anything, let it empower you to do what is right, what is good, and what is required.

     "Go and live your life. Know who you are and learn from what's happening around you. Stay true to yourself and what's important— don't lose sight of that. When you do, that's when things get tricky, but it can be exactly when things can get right too. Do things you've never done before, and always remember that no matter what happens, you did your best, and that's enough. I'm so lucky to have had the privilege to call you my goddaughter. I know you'll do fine on your own, even if it may not feel like it just yet. Remember, I am still here, watching. I love you."