The sky is lilac, streaked with interweaving orange. It reminds me of a watercolour painting. I can see it through the open window, which lets in a slight breeze. The gentle wind caresses my face tenderly, tickling my skin… And I drift. I drift like a white cloud on an April day, like water when a stone ripples through it, like a shooting star…



It doesn’t happen too often, at least not anymore, but once in a while I’ll let my head take the lead. When I do that, I always think of you. How long has it been? Ten, maybe fifteen years? No, ten, for I am twenty-seven. Twenty-seven, is that all? It’s hard to believe. I feel so young when I hear the number but I know I’m not. I feel a million half the time. And the other half, I can’t believe so much time has passed. Has it really been ten years since I last saw you, Harry? It can’t be. You can’t really be gone, not for ten years. No, I saw you just yesterday and you kissed me. You told me you’d be back and that you’d see me later. You promised. Remember?



Maybe I didn’t see you yesterday. In fact, I know I didn’t. Sometimes I like to pretend I did. Once in a while, I like to remember the feel of your lips touching my own, your eyes looking into mine.



Don’t worry; I know I won’t see you later and that you won’t be back. How I wish you would. I won’t Bat-Bogey Hex anyone or be too loud, I promise. That’s how you probably remember me – Ron’s spunky little sister. I hope you don’t though, for I don’t remember you as the Boy-Who-Lived. Then again, how could I? You did not live.



It’s strange, Harry. I was married two years ago. I know, I still can’t believe it either, but a lot of time has passed since you last saw me. I’ve grown up. The funny thing is I’ve always had this notion that you’d be the one I’d marry. Silly, isn’t it? It may be, but my whole life, or since first meeting you, I really thought that somehow we’d end up together. I thought that no matter what, fate would bring us together. I guess I was wrong. Dreams like that don’t always come true. You never promised me forever, Harry. I know that. I guess I promised you forever.



The what-ifs plague me all the time. I can imagine so many scenes in my mind. They are things that never happened but could have if you were alive. Harry, do you think we’d be together? I think we would be, even if we didn’t date for very long and it ended much too soon. I thought that it was just temporary; that you’d be back for me and love me the way you couldn’t before. You were so afraid when we were together. You didn’t really say it, but I knew. You were afraid of the heartache or the guilt you would harbour if I died. What about me though? You didn’t think about me. What about my guilt, my regret, my heartache?



Oh Harry, every day I have pangs of regret in my chest. There is so much I wish I had said to you, so many things I’ll never have the chance to say. I wish I could tell you that I loved you, or that I still love you. I’m not sure which it is. Can I still be in love with you, after you’ve been gone for so long? I don’t know. But I do know is how I felt about you. I was crazy about you. I’d never felt the way I did for you about anyone else and I never will again. I wish I’d found a way for us to be together sooner so we’d have had a longer time together. I should have kissed you more; I should have hugged you more and held your hand. The list goes on; it’s never ending. You should have known how deep my feelings ran.



And then I wonder; would we have broken up? However much I want to believe we wouldn’t have, we probably would have. Maybe all we had was a teenage thing. But maybe we would have stayed together. Maybe we would be married right now. I think you would have looked nice in deep green dress robes, like the ones you wore at the Yule Ball. I always had a mental picture of what our wedding would be like; it was so different from my own two years ago. Maybe we would even have a son or daughter right now that would look just like you.



Oh, how I wish. I’ve created a million memories in my mind of you and me. Watching the clouds roll by on an endless vibrant green field. Sitting in front of a crackling fire, my head resting on your shoulder. Snowball fights, swimming in the ocean, hiking through the woods, sharing a look across a crowded room while we’re both talking to other people, laughing together, playing Quidditch, double dating with Ron and Hermione, dancing, seasons changing, people changing, time going by, but our feelings staying the same. I can even hear the words you whisper to me – “I love you.�



Maybe it wouldn’t be like that. Maybe I wouldn’t be happy and neither would you. Maybe we’d fight a lot, and I’d eventually come to hate you. Maybe I would have always felt left out. Girlfriend or wife, you’d never tell me everything. You wouldn’t confide in me like you did Ron and Hermione. I’d never be your best friend; you’d already have two. So perhaps I’d be jealous because you’d always leave me out to protect me, even though I never needed it. I don’t think it’d matter if that did happen and I ended up wanting to curse you into the next century everyday. Because, at least then, I’d have gotten the chance to find out how it all ended, the chance to see what could have been.



Darkness is spreading quickly. I hate the darkness of night. I guess I’ve changed in that way. The night sky used to be the thing I loved most. I loved the twinkle of the stars and the way the moonlight flooded the trees. Once upon a time I could see everything reflected in the stars. I saw how big everything was and how mediocre my problems were compared to vast expanse of the universe. I saw hope, a glimmer of light in a world with none. I saw the laughter of the future.



Not anymore. I now see sorrow. I see the life I should have led, the life that was so painfully ripped from my palm, the life that involved so many people still I long to see.



That was the point I hoped to get across, Harry. I miss you. Nothing will ever be the same without you. I yearn for you every second of everyday. There were so many things I wanted for you. I wanted to show you how good the world could be, but you were never able to see it. Your life was always full of so much sadness, so much loss. I wanted to be the one to show you that there was so much left. I wanted to be the person to show you the type of love you never saw. I wanted there to be a happy ending for you and for both of us.



I miss your green eyes. I never told you how much I loved them. A fresh pickled toad was a poor comparison. They were more like green jewels, bright enough to light up the darkness I now hate. I miss your hair; it never did lay flat, did it? I miss the way you looked when you spoke of Quidditch, and when you played Quidditch, the way your eyes would brighten like a Christmas tree. I miss your face and your smile. I miss the passion in your eyes when you practiced Defence Against the Dark Arts; the way you would do anything to protect others, your bravery and kindness. But mostly, I miss you.



There were so many things I loved about you, but I can’t describe them. I can list the characteristics for hours, but it wouldn’t come close to why I really loved you. It was just a feeling; it was just you. I miss the sensation in my stomach when you looked my way or when you hugged me. And when I was younger, the way my cheeks would burn and I would stutter over words when you were nearby. You had an effect on me that no other person has ever had. Not even my husband.



My husband just walked in the door. He softly calls my name. I don’t answer – not yet. I want a few more moments with you, before he finds me sitting alone at the table and asks if I heard his calls. I want you in my head just a little longer, even though it hurts. Even though tears are threatening to fall. Everything is different without you, Harry. Ron and Hermione, Fred and George, Mum and Dad, Hagrid, everyone. Nothing is the same with you gone. We’re all in permanent mourning.



And as I wonder how much I would give to see you just one more time – like you used to be, at Hogwarts, before everything – I realize that I would give everything.



“Are you okay?� my husband asks quietly.



He’s found me and I have no choice but to nod and feign a smile. I don’t want you to get me wrong; I do love him. I love him to the best of my ability. But he isn’t Harry. And I can’t change it.



He leans down and kisses my lips. I hold him close to me, feeling his lips against my own. I can’t help but shut my eyes and pretend, just for a second, that it’s the kiss of the boy I love, you. And I pray that maybe, just maybe, if I wish hard enough on the night sky, the sky that I can no longer see in my dreams, there’ll be a different person standing in front of me.



I slowly open my eyes. No green, no black. Just crushing disappointment. I should know now that Harry will never come back, but the small faith I hold for the sky still comes forth. My eyes fall on the open window. The stars are bright, the brightest I have seen in a long time. For a moment, every ounce of hope I once had in them is restored. I can see everything I once saw before the heartache set in. I can feel the stars watching me, looking down upon me, like two sparkling eyes. They aren’t green, but I know who it is. And one day, I’ll be there, where I know he is waiting for me. And as a single tear trickles down my cheek, I smile in spite of myself.