Disclaimer: Everything from hp books belongs to JK Rowling
In A Glance
It confuses you a lot. These feelings you harbor for her, these dreams alive inside of you. It's hard to understand the deepness of your feelings, the strength. You ponder it a lot, wondering why you fell, why she never fell as well.
It doesn't upset you, that she doesn't love you; it's not what breaks your heart. It's her. It's her tragic stare, the pain so clear in her lifeless emerald eyes. It's her defeated nature, the way she gave up, stopped living. She's changed. She was once so happy. You remember her eyes sparkling and color in her cheeks. You remember her passionate voice and radiant smile. You look at her now as she sits in the common room. She's like a ghost now, a shadow of who she used to be.
It breaks your heart. Every time you see her eyes glistening with tears, every time they slowly fall down her face. She thinks about them a lot, about her parents. You can tell that her mind wanders to them constantly blaming the world for leaving her alone, blaming herself. She's sickly now, pale where color once resided, bony where she once looked healthy. She's become pitiful and you can't stand it. How is it possible for someone who was once so strong to become so weak?
She's pushed everyone away. Everyone who once meant something to her, everyone she once held close to her heart has fled from her outbursts of anger, from her random tears and unpredictable rage. You look to the window and far off see her "friends" out by the lake. You remember when she was with them. When they would laugh together, when they would cry. It makes you angry just sitting here thinking about it. They abandoned her, you think, abandoned her when she needed them most.
You turn away from the window and stare at the back of her arm chair. She pushed them away because they didn't understand, couldn't comprehend anything she was going through. They've never felt the harshness of loss, the loneliness that death always brings. She thinks nobody can know the anguish she feels, the way she suffers each time she wakes up in the morning and realizes she'll never see them again. You know though. You know about the pain the grips at you every second of the day. You know about the past that won't let you go, the tears you can't stop crying. You know her torment, know of the agony she feels every time she realizes they're ten feet in the ground.
She doesn't know though. She never heard the story about your parents. She couldn't have known. You still get nightmares from that night, still wake up in cold sweat with tears smudged on your face that you never remember crying. You were nine when it happened, long before she came to Hogwarts, long before witches and wizards were more than fiction. You watched them die, watched your parents being beaten and tortured. You heard their screams, listened to their last breath. You wipe a tear out of your eye as you picture that night in your mind. You hear crazed laughter echoing off in the distance, see menacing black eyes in your mind. Your grief has never really gone away.
But you can help her and you have been since school started. You can help her deal with the grief; help her move on with her life. You've tried your best. You're there for her whenever she needs someone. You're there when she needs to talk, needs to cry, needs to yell relentlessly at another human being to get out all of her frustrations. You want to take her pain away, to bring her back to the way she used to be.
You can still remember the day you fell for her, the exact moment. It was last year, Christmas time, and you and her and both of your friends were in a snowball fight. You remember the pink tint on her cheeks, the deep redness of her lips, the smile that illuminated her face. You fell for her then. You fell for her as she spun in circles during a flurry with her mouth hanging open and fell for her as she threw a snowball that pelted you in the head. All it took was one glance, one moment in time, for you to know that you loved her.
And you still do. You think back on those times with fondness. Sixth year brought you so much joy. It's when you finally put aside your differences and became friends. When you no longer received those icy glares and cruel scowls that have been directed at you so many times. You want to help her so badly. You want to go over to her right now and hold her until all her pain goes away. You want to hear her laugh, see her smile. You look down slightly; it seems more and more impossible with each passing day.
You won't give up though, not on her. You're James Potter. You're persistent and annoying and for once those qualities will pay off. She's grateful, you know. She's grateful for your attention and grateful that you still try to reach her, grateful that you haven't given up. She smiles at you sometimes, small, cautious smiles so unlike those bright ones you used to see, but smiles nonetheless. When she does that your stomach becomes alive with butterflies and you get a faint blush on your cheeks. And then she stares at you, her emerald eyes looking deep into your hazel ones. You know you'll get her back soon, that Lily Evans is in there somewhere, you just need to get her out.
End
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