But, why can I still feel his cold hand around my heart? Crushing my aching, beating heart?
Love saved us but, my heart is slowing, cooling, blackening.
I fear I will never be able to love again. I will be famous, yes, of course. I am the boy who lived. The chosen one. But, I will never be able to share my love. She has lost too much. I pushed her away too far. She will never forget that.
I will not find any one as pure as her. Anyone who loves me like she loved me. Like I still love her.
I walk into the Great Hall and see her with her family, grieving the brother they’ve lost, the friends they’ve lost. I cannot grieve anyone else. I’ve lost too many.
She looked at me. I turned and ran. I couldn’t take the blame I would have seen in her eyes.
I ran to the Room of Requirement. I found a small room with water. I curled my knees into my chest and rocked back and forth. Biting my bottom lip, so hard it bled. A fresh taste of the salty red liquid in my mouth.
I could feel myself getting weaker, more tired. I could not let myself sleep so I left my sanctuary and returned to the mourners and celebrators, feeling selfish that I had hidden myself away when others had just lost more than me in the battle.
I busied myself helping the wounded finding healers, clearing the debris of the castle I had once been able to call home and finding the dead and laying them to rest in the Great Hall.
I busied myself so I wouldn’t have to see her. Wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. Feel her touch. Not that she would to touch me more than a brief slap or punch. But, that wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt me now. It would just make me happy that she was acknowledging my existence and not ignoring me for the rest of my life.
Aurors and concerned “fans” were telling me I should rest. They thought the saviour of the wizarding world should not have to complete menial tasks such as these; I should leave it to the everyday wizard. I promised myself that I would never be like that. Never be like Malfoy.
My heart beat quicken as she walked over towards me. I looked to her eyes and didn’t see the hatred I was expecting. I saw love.
‘Harry are you ok?’
‘Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just don’t know what to do with myself.’
‘The saviour of the world doesn’t know what to do. Well, why doesn’t he kiss me?’
‘You…you still want me then? After all…’
I never got to finish my sentence. She kissed me. My one and only love kissed me. Passionately. She still loved me. After all this time.
Although I can still feel his cold hand grasping around my heart, I can only just feel his touch. The death and destruction he brought; I survived it. I found love.
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And thank to Ladie Lily Potter for reading this before I posted it
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