Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter.
He opened his eyes. Breathed inaudibly and looked to the window, where she leaned onto the glass. He watched her face in the
dim light of dawn. It bathed her features in a slate hue, leaving deep blue shadows under her eyes and the curve of her jaw. She shifted
from one foot to another, sighed a papery sigh and frowned at something in her thoughts. He thought she looked so sad now, not at all
like before, not summery and floating and like warm sunshine that engulfed his entire being. No. She was wary and gaunt, shaking off his
touch on her shoulder, stalking off and looking utterly…he didn't know what. What. What was it? It made him breath shallow and close
his eyes.
Suddenly she was by the bed. She reached down, threaded her fingers through his.
Leaned down and kissed his cheek. He shut his eyes.
It was the night before the moon. He was tired and restless at the same time. Paced back and forth before that big window in his
threadbare sweater. Finally stood leaning his forehead against the pane. Staring at the cold distant orb. She was in bed, staring at the
ceiling. Breathing slow and muted and her body would shift every ten minutes. Soft, crinkling sheets beneath her. The sound of a ragged
sigh, so soft but for his attune ears, causing him to turn to her at last. Her eyes were shut. She grimaced in her sleep. At the way he stared
at the moon. She frowned at his shabby sweaters. She bit back her words at his incessantly weary face.
And suddenly the realization crept into his soul. And punctured his heart.
She had grown tired of him.
