I inhale deeply the bitter taste of the smoke of this cigarette I'm holding distractedly between my fingers. You thought smoking was a very stupid and unhealthy kind of addiction, something harmful that can always be avoided, with a little will power. Well, you used to be my addiction, and - contrarily to your belief - you were anything but harmful to me. To be honest, you were everything I needed to keep my life together. You see, I started smoking because it doesn't feel wrong anymore, now that you can no longer tell me it actually is.

I'm backed against the wall, just outside the Burrow, wondering why and how I came to accept Molly's invitation for dinner. She's probably wondering where I am, at the moment, since I practically ran out of the room when Mad-Eye mentioned your name. It's not like I've been a good guest, lately, anyway. I believe everyone is convinced by now that I've lost it, that the pain has driven me insane.

Maybe it has, I dunno. Maybe it's killed me and I'm not even aware of this.

How do you know your heart is still beating if it's been shattered? Should I look among all the pieces for some drop of life? I don't believe I'd find any, even if I tried. Even if I cared.

When I arrived, Molly told me I look devastated. I said nothing, but inside I thought that it's not always true that appearance deceives. Once I stepped in, everyone looked at me as though I could break down any moment, and I knew they felt pity for me, and no matter how many smiles I will feign, and how convincng they'll look. That pity they have for me will never leave their eyes.

I so regret having come, now.

Perhaps I thought I would find some comfort with all those people who care for me; yeah, I thought so - hoped so - but I guess I was just wrong. All the warmth I had inside, all my expectations... You've taken it all away with you.

Veiled by my black curtain of grief, I sat down and watched as everyone else tried to make me feel better, but it was useless, and they knew. I ate nothing, talked to no one, and I walked away at the first chance. I came here, and I know nobody will come looking for me, even if I left before Molly could serve the dessert. I honestly think I made a mistake by coming here, tonight. It felt dreadfully wrong to sit there and feel your absence by my side; instead of you, an empty chair. I should have known better than to believe I wouldn't be crushed by the memories.

It's dark, out here, and even a bit cold. The full moon shines pale in this raven black sky, as I stare at it with tears shimmering into my eyes. She watched as you were stolen from me, she listened mercilessly when you called out my name for the last time and left me here mourning and hurting.

It's the first full moon I've seen since you've been gone, the first full moon that won't tear you apart after long years. What an unfair, dear toll you've had to pay for this peace...

I take the cigarette to my mouth again and suck in another smoky breath, then exhale it slowly, and it's a bit like I am exhaling my own soul as well. And I can almsot hear you, I can almost feel you, right here, beside me, so disapprovingly disappointed to see me doing this.

You'd laugh if I you knew I'm trying to fill up the emptiness you've left this way, if you knew I'm trying so ingenuously to replace my addiction to you with such a silly one.

I sniffle, broken by this sudden wave of fragilty these thoughts of you have brought, and two cold tears leak down my face as I clasp my hand over my mouth to suffocate an uncontrolled sob of nostalgia, my eyes squeezed in pain. I can almost see you approaching me, addressing me a scolding yet sweet look as you scrutinise me concernedly and pull the cigarette from my lips, while the ghost of your velvet voice whispers softly into my ear.

"This is not good for you, Nymphadora."