I pull my robes tighter around my thin frame, shivering in the frigid winter air. The sky is as black as ink, not even interrupted by a single star. I’m not the arrogant boy I used to be, the Dark Lord has seen to that. I was a fool to serve my father’s master. Didn’t I see the effects of his service on my father, the toll he paid with his soul? He became nothing more than a hollow shell, a façade of a once proud man. He was consumed by a dream, and for that dream he died. In the end, he was just another nameless corpse on the path to power. I pity him, he was so convinced of his own self-righteousness that he deluded himself into believing he was anything more than a pawn in the Dark Lord’s hands.
Now, I pay for my own naivety. And I pay dearly. I am his messenger, the last to be trusted, and the first to suffer for any failure. I am so used to seeing my own blood. I know its color as surely as I know my own name. My dreams are filled with my blood, and when I wake the blood is real.
I have learned many harsh truths and have come to realize that I am lost. Neither side accepts me. I can’t go back and change the past. I wish I could. I thought I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I lost everything, but nothing was gained. I had so much to lose. I am a shadow of a person and yet for the first time I sense not my father, but myself.
My white-blond hair hangs about my face, accenting my haunted silver eyes. I walk down the nearly empty street and pass a lit window. As I pause to warm myself in the pool of light emanating from the building out on to the stone street, I glance inside. The room exudes cheer and warmth, the very things in which my life is so lacking. The room is filled with people I envy, though I know them not. They do not know anything of reality, but sleep while still awake. Life has not imposed its harshness upon them. For it is one thing to hear of horror, and another to see them with your own eyes. And in the window, I spy something unexpected, something I’m completely unprepared for. I see the one person I never thought I’d ever see again: Harry Potter.
I’m caught off guard by the difference in his appearance. I still pictured him as I had seen him last. I knew he must have changed, but I never really pictured him that way. He’s older now, no longer the little boy I knew at school. His face has changed, only the emerald eyes and scar remain of the face I once knew. Friends and admirers surround him. He looks so happy, an emotion I don’t believe I have ever truly felt. He turns slightly in my direction and I see an angel’s face. And I realize deep inside myself stirrings of longing for the warmth and cheer of the gathering, for companionship, and for him.
You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.
You’re beautiful, it’s true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don’t know what to do,
‘Cause I’ll never be with you.
You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.
You’re beautiful, it’s true.
There’s no denying that he is exquisite in every sense of the word. His skin is a pale ivory and his cheekbones are well shaped. His smile outshines the lights themselves, but there’s something about his eyes, an untouchable sadness in their depths. It only serves to make him more of a fallen angel.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don’t know what to do,
‘Cause I’ll never be with you.
I feel an irresistible pull to the window, but would I do? What would I say? There’s too much painful past to be forgiven. I can’t ask for that. I’m not deserving of him. I can never be good enough to deserve someone like him. The irony is not lost on me. I finally fall in love with the one person I can never be with.
You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.
You’re beautiful, it’s true.
There must be an angel with a smile on her face,
When she thought up that I should be with you.
I find myself wondering what could have been. What would it be like to hold you? I wistfully fantasize and I realize what we might have been. I know as I stand here, that all those years we defied destiny until it was too late. Our fate still exists, but we can no longer follow. Together we would have been beautiful. Even apart we hold a melancholy beauty of unattainable ideals. Both of us are so broken. It’s too late, even so I know you are the only one I could have loved.
But it’s time to face the truth,
I will never be with you.
The sadness I feel is so heavy, as to be nearly suffocating. I raise my hand and place it on the glass, a single tear sliding down my face. I wrench myself away from the inviting room, leaving my heart behind in the snow.
Wistful Fantasy by shadowgirl573
Chapter Notes: I don't own Harry Potter. I just use the characters as guinea pigs in my writing lab. The song is You're Beautiful by James Blunt.