Title: Insight
Author: Carlee missingdreamsx
Word Count:
Archives: Fanfictiondotnet, Personal archives of friends.
Summary: Perhaps I should be out doing something of use to the world, but I feel my due to this earth is paid off.
Notes: I'm just running with this one. I seriously have no idea what this is going to be about even. But I want to write. So I am. Nyah Nyah! -Sticks tongue out-
Pairings: Secret.
Genres: Angst/Romance
Rating: T
Sometimes I wonder what I would've do without him. He's my rock; all I have left. It was hard the first few years after the war. It was hard to live without my parents, without Dumbledore, without so many of the loyal friends I gained through my years at Hogwarts. But he was always there. He never left my side. He was someone I could lean on, I could cry on his shoulder.
When Ginny died in her husband's arms, I lost a piece of myself. And when George killed himself out of grief over Fred's death, I wept for a month. I was there for Remus' parting vow to meet Sirius, and keep him safe forever. I held Ron close to me while he cried for his brothers, his sister, his father. I sat with Molly, held her hand, as she lay on her bed and died peacefully in her usually troubled sleep. I care for Ginny and Malfoy's child, and take great care to tell him the many talents of his dear mother, and the wit of his daddy. I've perfected the Bat-bogey hex, and try to perform it as well as Ginny could. I still run Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I still live in the flat Victor left me after he died an innocent. I still make little Draco eat a lot of my food, as Molly would find him too skinny. I help anyone I can, regardless of species, colour, illnesses…and I still love him.
I'm really not proud of how I've acted. I can't stand it that I still cry over careless mistakes. Books have never given me any form of strength. They were just something I fell back on when I felt alone…when I felt I just didn't fit in. Looking back I realize that all my books did was hurt my cause. I never wanted to shun or ignore anyone. I truly wish that I'd had the courage to speak my mind, though that power was very well beyond me then. I would pretend that I couldn't see the glances he would shoot me when he thought I wasn't looking. If I'd been able to, I would've shot them back, tenfold. Now, I can't say that my life in it's entirety has been a failure, how many twenty year old witches can say that they helped to defeat the ultimate evil? Not many, I assure you, though the ones who can say that in total honesty did fight valiantly, and shall have my eternal respect. I've looked into the eyes of a killer, I've nearly been killed. I've killed others. Sure, there are some aspects I'm not too proud of, but many that have helped sculpt who I am today. Today, I am a respectable citizen living in muggle London, just trying to raise my godson as best I can. I teach him myself, as I don't want him to lead the same horrible life as some wizards do when raised in the muggle world. I raise him to be smart, knowledgeable. But I let him have fun. That is something he taught me, how to let loose. I refuse to let my darling child be the same hermit I was, I do hope he is as outgoing as his parents. I only wish taking care of myself were so easy.
I've put on some weight. I've been told that my eyes hold haunting secrets of the past. I never sleep more than four hours in any one night, and the nightmares…now I know why he would wake up screaming, crying. Now I know how much it hurts to be haunted with visions of your friends dying, to be haunted with the fact that if you'd possibly changed one thing, maybe they'd still be here today. I know how it feels to look into the eyes of a soulless man, willing to kill an infant to gain power, power that could never be his. I know how cold you get when a dementor sucks you in, takes a grasp on your happiness and yanks it away without a second thought. I could tell you how it feels to lose your parents to a ruthless man, out to gain only for himself, willing to kill anything in his way. I can tell you how it feels to fail...how it feels to fail at saving someone's life. I could show you what the anguish does to you, as it slowly eats away at your core, your innermost parts. I could show you a heart, a heart filled with holes that long to be filled. I can tell you how it feels to see someone you love die before your eyes, and I can count for you, in numbers how many tears you'll shed until you've run out.
He never asked for much. Some help with his homework, advise, friendly things. I would have given him the world. Then again, I never really offered much either. How I do wish I could change that. Alas, he past is the past, cannot be altered, cannot be changed. TimeTurners can do nothing for it. They just make you yearn more. Nothing can bring someone back, no matter what you're told.
Perhaps I should be out doing something of use to the world, but I feel my due to this earth is paid off. This tired, breaking old journal can only hold so much. I've stressed it out with my secrets, my memories of events past. The thought of getting a Pensive never really has appealed to me, I'm better off recording this down, in my tired leather journal. It's seen better days, but so have I. I do believe we all have.
- - -
Closing the book, she sighed. She laid her pen and journal in her lap and sat back in her armchair.
"Hermione?"
She looked up, and, smiling at him, she stood. She watched him pick up the sleeping Draco and carry him off to sleep in his own little bed. Picking her journal back up, she scrawled just one more thought onto that very full last page of the tired brown journal. Then, replacing her journal to it's known spot, she climbed the stairs up into her bed, and prepared herself for another night.
- - -
I have seen many things, deaths, births, phoenixes, werewolves…but nothing will ever compare to the sight of my darling Harry in the morning; my rock, my friend, my love.