Don't Close Your Eyes
He sat in the middle of the room. Memories of his chaotic release laid around him. Broken wood and shattered glass piled itself at his feet. He sat on the only chair still standing and he didn't move. He didn't cry or scream (though he had already screamed louder then any full moon had ever heard) or move at all. He didn't even look like he was breathing. For a moment he thought he'd forgoten how.
He had lived years in this place. At this spot, this destination. His whole life sittng before him and never had he moved. He always had something to look back on. Someone to catch him. He had spent the better half of 21 years taking for granted everything that swarmed around him. Friends and family, lovers and enemies.
His eyes were drier than they had ever been. He couldn't cry though. He felt like there was nothing left in him. Like some dementor had ripped out every happy memory, every smile and laugh. No dementors were there though, just him.
Just him.
Lily and James were dead. All that they had worked for was over. It was all in vain. Because Sirius was in Azkaban and Peter was dead too. He was left. What kind of sick joke was his life that it would leave him here. Didn't they know? Hadn't they learned that he couldn't make it without them. Without anyone.
But here, now in a room full of broken furniture and shattered hearts he was the only one left. He dropped his wand amongst the rubble and buried his head in his hands. There was no noise, no laughing or arguing. No shouting or movement. Because there was no one to move. There was only just him.
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