Archive of Our Own ^beta

An open and shut case,
one where they never even looked at her.
She had to laugh behind closed doors,
when no one would,
could,
see.
Wasn't the wife always the first suspect?
Then again,
he'd had enough enemies,
enough people that had wanted him dead.

The world had seen what they'd wanted to see
when it came to him and her,
a fairy tale come true according to the press.
A happy marriage,
a happy little family,
a work of art,
a masterpiece of theatre.
The bruises were invisible,
nightmares vanishing beneath the spot light.
No one saw the empty seat at the table,
the one she'd lost,
the one he'd taken from her.
She had never stopped blaming him,
not after the autopsy had confirmed it,
not after everything.
The fall had stopped the tiny heart,
not a fall,
a push,
a shove,
a threat,
one he'd carried out,
leaving her bleeding,
broken,
sobbing.

His tiny body buried beneath the cutting of the Whomping Willow,
the cutting she'd begged Neville for,
a safe place for him,
a place she knew no one would ever dare disturb.

Now,
now,
he lay there too,
his body broken and bloody as hers had been,
the stairs didn't care,
didn't discriminate who tumbled down their wooden edges.
No one looking at her,
pushing the tears from her eyes,
crying for every other,
any other reason.
Let them think those tears were for him.
Pretending,
faking the emotions the world thought
she should feel,
should show.

Accidental,
they finally ruled it,
not so open and shut,
months wasted on an investigation that went nowhere.
His body beneath the willow,
the tree taking the blame,
an accident.
He'd gotten too close,
it had whomped him as was its nature.

She stepped into another scene,
the grieving widow,
single mum,
doing her best to stay strong,
to raise the one child she still had,
the world moved on,
her life no longer front page news,
no longer interesting.
The play over,
the acting that had saved her no longer necessary
as she started smiling again,
started shining again
she finally finding happiness
again,