Old Eyes
He was never truly young. Never truly a child. 11 years old and he was older than most men alive. Her first glimpse of him at the station entranced her, with no effort he captured her mind. After all, there was something in his eyes, even then.
People say that you can tell when someone has seen too much, lived through too much and she supposed you could but it was different with him. It wasn't just what he'd seen, it was also what he hadn't.
Love was a foreign concept for him, a boy who loved so freely but didn't know that he did. He had never known it or felt it from another and it aged him more clearly than anything else in his young life. It was not really living if one was living without love but somehow he bore it.
He was never truly innocent, not then and not now. Hardship was carved into his heart and written in his eyes for the world to see. An old man in a child's body, aged beyond his years. She liked to imagine that he was innocent once, that once in his life there was a time when he had no worries, no cares, no pain. He was 11 and the only innocence he had was thought up and hoped for by a sympathetic friend.
She loved him then. Yes, even then. Because even though she had knowledge and books and stories of a boy-who-lived, she didn't have what he had. No matter how much she learnt, no matter how much she grew, she would never have that same knowing, that same understanding that comes from experience. And oh what he had experienced….
She loved him because he was all over the place, messed about and torn up inside, because he was who he was. The kid with broken glasses, clothes far too large and a smile that rarely reached his eyes. His hair was as uncontrollable as hers and despite being the greatest wizard of their time he couldn't handle the simplest of charms (like something normal or average wasn't possible for him). He was almost painfully shy and he stuttered when he was nervous. There wasn't a time when he could control that and she always found it rather sweet (if he could be called that) that the savior of their world, her world, was incredibly awkward about something as simple as being seen.
But then he grew up, years past and more things happened, worse things. The years hidden in his eyes lengthened further and his smile grew rarer still. Yet she still loved him then.
He lost things he didn't know he had and things everyone took for granted. He felt things, felt love and then it was gone in the same way as all the rest. She wondered that he could still love at all. Death seemed to follow him like a shadow (or a cloak) but somehow he remained. Still Harry.
And he wore it well.
Eventually the war ended and the world had the peace it had so desperately craved for so long but that peace was hard won. Sometimes she wondered if that cost was worth it, sometimes she thought that nothing could be worth the look in his eyes. He was too high a price to pay but pay he did.
More and more lives were lost, friends and family were gone and he blamed it all on himself.
"It was my war, why did they have to get involved? If they hadn't they wouldn't be dead." The words rang in her ears and settled heavily in her heart.
He was older now but still so young. He didn't understand that they did it for him, that they died for him. They did it because they knew they he would do it for them.
And he did.
He died for them….. To save them all. He was the one thing that she thought was too much to lose but he died anyway. And somehow he still blamed himself. Somehow he still felt like he could have done more. Like he wasn't enough.
And that was why she loved him now.
He was still the insecure, shy man that she met when she was young. Only now she had the same years in her eyes that he had in his so long ago. She had experienced the same things. She went to war with him. She made it her fight.
And that's exactly what she told him.
"They loved you Harry, they made it their fight. It was their war as much as it was yours. If it had been another, someone else willing to die for them, they would have fought for him too. And if it was any other, if it was someone else's war, you would have done the same… This was not your fault." She hopes that her words break through, hopes that they stick, because they were probably the second most important words she would ever say. "They would follow you anywhere Harry and so would I."
He looks at her likes he's seeing clearly for the first time in years, like the sun has risen over his heart and a small, lopsided smile graces his lips. And she smiles back because even though it's tinged with sadness this one reaches his eyes, this one is genuine.
"They died for what they believed… for what they loved." He whispers the words like he's afraid that someone will deny it. But no one does, no one else is there.
They are hiding away in the trees nears the lake, away from the dust and rubble that makes up the greater part of the castle grounds. There were no bodies there, the air was clear and they sat under a tree looking out over the water.
She rubs circles on his back because she can't stop herself, she needed to touch and perhaps he needed the comfort. No matter because he doesn't pull away as they settle into silence. It was comfortable…nice. No war, no searching and the hunger that had accompanied every waking moment for the last few months was gone. They were safe, able to just be.
He looks at her then, his heart in his eyes. A look that was as far she knew reserved for Ginny… but Ginny wasn't there. And neither was Ron. They were alone and he was looking at her like she always dreamed he would, the same way she looked at him.
"I know you don't…" he paused to swallow heavily "I mean I know I don't deserve it back but… I love you 'Mione." He looks away then, to frightened by her reply to watch.
He didn't know what made him say. Maybe he was at the end of his rope, maybe it everything that had happened and maybe it was because she was still here. Still by his side.
He never knew love from another until he met her. She was the first to ever hug him, the first to kiss him (on the cheek). She was the only one stay when he was sick and the only one who was always there. She never left. When everyone else betrayed him she stayed with him, supported him.
He still remembered when they met. He loved her then too. She was the innocent know-it-all who helped fix his glasses. She was more interested in books than she was in people but she was sensitive and sweet and even though there were no signs that she would like to even befriend someone like him she still had enough compassion to help him. And she had been doing it ever since.
It was inevitable for him to love her. Written in the stars almost, he couldn't have helped if he tried. She was the sun in his otherwise dark world and after the dark night that had been his life he couldn't help but fall. He had followed her light from that day after.
Years had past and life became muddy, he lost her to another or at least thought he did. The despair left after the darkness clouded him once more made him search desperately for another light to follow but all he found were cheap imitations of what he truly wanted. They weren't her.
She was all grown up now, the innocence in her eyes faded and experience took its place. Knowledge grew to wisdom and people became more interesting than books (though she still loved them) but through it all she stayed faithful. Her loyalty was one of the few things that never changed though almost everything else did.
It made him love her still.
So now here he was having died only hours before waiting with baited breathe to see if he had just made the stupidest decision (dumber than dying) of his short but far too long life.
"Harry… you deserve so much more than me. So much….but I'm too selfish to care because as much as you wouldn't last five minutes without me, I wouldn't last two without you." She took a deep breath, the rest coming out in a rush, "I love you too." And those were definitely the most important words that she ever said or would ever say.
He looked at her shocked because surely it couldn't be so easy, so simple, (nothing was ever this easy, not for him) surely she couldn't love him back. But she did.
Because after all he'd been through he deserved simple and easy and she was determined to give it to him. She held his hand and smiled at him, she would be exactly what he needed for as long as he would have her and she told him so.
"You'll be around for a while then." Was his sheepish reply. She nodded firmly back, she had expected nothing less. He was an old soul after all.