I'm back with another one-shot! (: Read and review, please and thanks.
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Desire

“I’m free.”

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—no, not bricks, but… like the first feeling of warm sunshine, after the longest winter. I was free. After twelve long, undeserved years in that hellhole not deserving, even, to be called a prison… I was out.

I looked around, shaking my head so the water fell. Each drop seemed loud, so loud, to my ears, but I knew it wasn’t. My perception of everything—sound, time, memory—had become immensely screwed up in my time there. A shout would sound like a buzzing in my ear, while my own raspy breath would sound louder then an airhorn.

I heard indistinct voices behind me, and panicked. I jumped into a bush, and waited with bated breath until the people—judging from their conversation, young lovers—had passed. No doubt I was a wanted man, even here in the Muggle world—the rat had made absolutely sure that I would be seen as the villain.

I couldn’t risk being seen here.

Taking a hasty look around me, I transformed quickly and bounded up the street, anxiously looking for an abandoned house, an empty building, anything that would offer a bit of shelter for the night, before I tried to go back to Hogwarts.

I finally found one, and upon entering, quickly transformed back. I looked around; the building was small, leaky, dirty, and old, but it would suffice for one night, before I tried to go back.

A vision of his face, laughing, filled my head, but I pushed it out. There were more pressing matters at hand. He could wait.

My stomach snapped angrily at me, and I decided to try and find some food. There were three rooms in this building, and I quickly checked each.

I saw her in the third room.

She was waving at me, her beautiful red hair flowing. I stopped dead in my tracks. It couldn’t be her. She’d died… that was the entire reason I’d gone to Azkaban in the first place.

She beckoned me over, and I willingly walked-no, ran over to her, grinning, all thoughts of impossibility out of my head. My reasoning flew far behind me as I raced to her.

I nearly smashed into the mirror before I realized what it was. I backed away, staring at the top in horror. It couldn’t be… no.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

This time, the realization was a ton of bricks. I staggered, nearly falling, tears filling my eyes. I knew what this was.

“I show not your face, but your heart’s desire,” I said to myself, anger filling my voice.

She was still waving, and now I was reflected with her. I was smiling, laughing, and as I kissed the top of her head I broke.

She had been my everything. Even when she was with James, I could tell her heart wasn’t in it, and how many times had she told me that herself? She was only with him for the baby, she loved me.

There was no denying that he had had feelings for her, but she just didn’t feel the same way about him. I felt awful at times, but as she said, ‘True Love can conquer.’ I would push all guilt out of my mind when she kissed me, until I saw him, at least.

Until that day, when she was killed. When they were both killed, ripped from me, and with them, a part of my soul.

I remembered all of this as I watched the mirror her and I laugh together, happy at last. A tear slid down my face, and I did nothing to stop it.

There was no point.

Dejected, hurt beyond repair, I slid against a wall and fell, my head in my hands, as I watched the mirrors of us, happier then I would ever be, together in the endless loop of love.

I got up, anger filling my veins and making my blood boil. That **** would pay for ripping her away from me. Her sweet, tinkly laugh filled my head, and I closed my eyes, wanting to lose myself in the memory of her.

But I couldn’t. Not until I had gotten her murderer. His face filled my head, smiling cruelly as he admitted what he had done.

“I got her, didn’t I? I got both of them, the Mudblood and the traitor…”

I could see that it had been a ruse, all a setup, to goad me, but I acted irrationally—I had never dreamed that the rat could think up such a clever plan.

But, then, I supposed he’d never guess that I’d break out.

I smiled softly, my first real smile in over a decade, and turned on the spot, ready to kill Peter Pettigrew.
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And, if you have time... Read my other stories? I just want to know if I should continue the non-one-shots. Thanks again,
Jasmine.