Disclaimer: If I honestly owned them, do you think I would be sitting here
at 4 in the morning writing this? I didn't think so. I'm not making any
money off this. The characters in this belong to J.K. Rowling, and so do
some of the plots.
WARNING: This has Order of the Phoenix spoilers. Do not read unless you want the story spoiled for you. If you flame me for giving the death away, I will publicly humiliate you at your inability to read warnings. Thank you and have a nice day. ^.^
o.o Oooookkk. This might be one of the weirdest things I've ever written.
Running. That's all I ever seem to do anymore. I run from my past, my present- my future. I run because I know nothing else. I have run for so long that this is what I have become. And now here I am. Alone and cold thinking of things that were and things that could have been, should have been. My mind has become so twisted, so unfocused, all I ever think about is you. It makes me sick. I can't even look after Harry properly anymore. It was what you would have wanted, for Harry to be safe. But what about me? I am not safe. My very mind tortures me, my very soul writhes in agony because a chunk of it has been taken and can never be replaced.
After- after you fell, I felt like screaming. I felt like screaming and running and crying and dying all at the same time. I saw Harry run towards you, but I stopped him. I had to. I know if I didn't have him to hold on to, I would have turned and ran to you, screaming your name. I wished so badly for you to rise from the veil and say something witty like 'If that's the best you can do, I do believe I win.' But no. I knew the horrid truth from the moment that jet of red light struck you. You were gone. You were gone and never coming back. Not like last time.
Last time you were just trapped. Falsely accused for a crime you didn't commit. But I, like everyone else, believed you were guilty. And now I hate myself for it. I should have known that you would never, COULD never do something so horrible. But I believed it. I believed it because I didn't know what else to believe. I mean, would YOU honestly believe Peter had the balls to blow up the street? Peter was so quiet and shy. And you had such a terrible temper. I remember when I found out you were in Azkaban. At first I was in shock. Then I started hating you, or at least partially. For I loved you as well. I never stopped loving you.
But you'll never know that I never stopped loving you. When you returned in Harry's third year, when I was teaching, I couldn't believe it. At first I was giddy at the thought of seeing you again. But then I felt dread. I had figured out that you would never kill Lily, or James, or Peter. But if you were caught- you would have been better off dead. If those damn Dementors would have taken your soul I know I would have killed you. I would have killed you so you could be free. You wouldn't be a lifeless shell of a person. I couldn't stand to see you like that.
But now, I am the last Marauder. The only link to our past. The only person Harry has left. And to think, right after your death, they caught Peter committing murders under Voldemort's name and cleared yours. I remember thinking, 'What's the bloody point?! He's dead so it doesn't matter.' It's all so pointless. Everything. Harry was so close to having something of a family with you, and possibly even me. But that dream was shattered. When she killed you I wanted to break her. Break her and hurt her and torture her, but keep her alive. And I wouldn't stop until you came back.
It's the worst feeling in the world, knowing that your friends are gone. And that they are never coming back. It's not easy, especially for me because of what I am. I don't know how to cope anymore. It was just too hard. I got through Lily and James's death, only hoping for a chance to see you again, to know you were innocent. I was so stupid to think otherwise, but I'm stupid now, for thinking I was stupid then because I didn't know what to think.
And now, now I'm an empty shell. The shell of a man who once was but can never be anymore. Now, things are so different, because all I'm left with are memories. And they keep playing in my mind like some movie and I can't push stop or turn the channel, no matter how hard I try. They are the most joyous and the most painful memories.
I remember the first time I met you. We were on the train, and I was the victim of your first school prank. You found it so funny how high I jumped when I saw that snake, but after a few minutes I thought it was funny too. Soon we were both rolling around on the floor laughing.
Then I remember the first time I told you I was a werewolf. That night you and James and Peter were all hugging me and apologizing because you knew something was wrong and should have tried to find out sooner.
Then it was our first kiss. It was short, but so sweet. We were in detention for letting off stink bombs in the corridors and getting caught. You said you wondered what it was like to kiss a guy. We were both thirteen, and we knew that's not what we meant. We knew we liked, maybe even loved, each other. So we tried it out. I remember you tasted like chocolate and pumpkin juice and you smelled like the outdoors and the fire and your favorite squishy armchair by the fire.
And then was graduation. It was so bittersweet. I was so happy to finally be leaving this place. But I was scared. I was an adult now, and expected to live on my own. I was also sad. I didn't want to loose the only love I'd ever known. I wanted to be with you, I wanted you to take me in your arms and tell me everything was all right. I wanted you to make everything better.
James and Lily were getting married. It was the first time the old gang was getting together. I saw you for the first time in monthes. I couldn't remember being happier. I remember how we slipped away and you kissed me again. It was something I had missed, your kiss. I swore then and there I would stay devoted to you.
Then Harry was born. There was a big party, although we had seen each other many times between the wedding and Harry's birth, it felt better to be among our friends. That's where we made it publicly known we were together, although James said he had known it for years, which I did not doubt.
Then came the horrible and tragic deaths of Lily and James. I couldn't believe it. Then when Peter accused you and blew up those muggles. That had to be the worst 48 hours of my life. Then you went to Azkaban and my worst nightmares became a reality. We were separated.
I hated you and I loved you at the same time, although the love greatly outweighed the hate. When you broke out I jumped at the chance to see you, to tell you I still loved you. I had so many chances, but I never told you. I never said, "I still love you." It must have hurt. I could see the pain in your eyes when you looked at me. You thought I didn't love you anymore. How wrong you were.
I can't express my feelings because there aren't words to express them. Even if there were, I still don't think I could. I feel unimaginable loss and hate at Bellatrix, but mostly at myself. Sometimes I scream at god because he did the most horrible thing. He stole my friends, my love, my happiness, and left me alive. Alive to wither up and die inside and stay the shadow of whom I used to be. He left me alive to cry every night wishing for something I can't have, and having something I don't want.
For a while, I was a dreamchaser. I chased my dreams and sought out a way to bring you back. Sought out for a little bit of happiness. But chasing dreams is like trying to find the end of a rainbow. When you think you've got it, it disappears.
But, even after all this, after all the hatred at myself, I still want you to know something. I am still loyal to you. And I still love you.
I will always love you.
Yea. I wrote this at 3 in the morning and finished at 4. I might add more, like an actual PLOT (which this seems to lack) but that depends. This is just basically a bunch of jabber from me from readin too many angsty post- OotP-Character-Death stories so yea. REVIEW PLEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!
WARNING: This has Order of the Phoenix spoilers. Do not read unless you want the story spoiled for you. If you flame me for giving the death away, I will publicly humiliate you at your inability to read warnings. Thank you and have a nice day. ^.^
o.o Oooookkk. This might be one of the weirdest things I've ever written.
Running. That's all I ever seem to do anymore. I run from my past, my present- my future. I run because I know nothing else. I have run for so long that this is what I have become. And now here I am. Alone and cold thinking of things that were and things that could have been, should have been. My mind has become so twisted, so unfocused, all I ever think about is you. It makes me sick. I can't even look after Harry properly anymore. It was what you would have wanted, for Harry to be safe. But what about me? I am not safe. My very mind tortures me, my very soul writhes in agony because a chunk of it has been taken and can never be replaced.
After- after you fell, I felt like screaming. I felt like screaming and running and crying and dying all at the same time. I saw Harry run towards you, but I stopped him. I had to. I know if I didn't have him to hold on to, I would have turned and ran to you, screaming your name. I wished so badly for you to rise from the veil and say something witty like 'If that's the best you can do, I do believe I win.' But no. I knew the horrid truth from the moment that jet of red light struck you. You were gone. You were gone and never coming back. Not like last time.
Last time you were just trapped. Falsely accused for a crime you didn't commit. But I, like everyone else, believed you were guilty. And now I hate myself for it. I should have known that you would never, COULD never do something so horrible. But I believed it. I believed it because I didn't know what else to believe. I mean, would YOU honestly believe Peter had the balls to blow up the street? Peter was so quiet and shy. And you had such a terrible temper. I remember when I found out you were in Azkaban. At first I was in shock. Then I started hating you, or at least partially. For I loved you as well. I never stopped loving you.
But you'll never know that I never stopped loving you. When you returned in Harry's third year, when I was teaching, I couldn't believe it. At first I was giddy at the thought of seeing you again. But then I felt dread. I had figured out that you would never kill Lily, or James, or Peter. But if you were caught- you would have been better off dead. If those damn Dementors would have taken your soul I know I would have killed you. I would have killed you so you could be free. You wouldn't be a lifeless shell of a person. I couldn't stand to see you like that.
But now, I am the last Marauder. The only link to our past. The only person Harry has left. And to think, right after your death, they caught Peter committing murders under Voldemort's name and cleared yours. I remember thinking, 'What's the bloody point?! He's dead so it doesn't matter.' It's all so pointless. Everything. Harry was so close to having something of a family with you, and possibly even me. But that dream was shattered. When she killed you I wanted to break her. Break her and hurt her and torture her, but keep her alive. And I wouldn't stop until you came back.
It's the worst feeling in the world, knowing that your friends are gone. And that they are never coming back. It's not easy, especially for me because of what I am. I don't know how to cope anymore. It was just too hard. I got through Lily and James's death, only hoping for a chance to see you again, to know you were innocent. I was so stupid to think otherwise, but I'm stupid now, for thinking I was stupid then because I didn't know what to think.
And now, now I'm an empty shell. The shell of a man who once was but can never be anymore. Now, things are so different, because all I'm left with are memories. And they keep playing in my mind like some movie and I can't push stop or turn the channel, no matter how hard I try. They are the most joyous and the most painful memories.
I remember the first time I met you. We were on the train, and I was the victim of your first school prank. You found it so funny how high I jumped when I saw that snake, but after a few minutes I thought it was funny too. Soon we were both rolling around on the floor laughing.
Then I remember the first time I told you I was a werewolf. That night you and James and Peter were all hugging me and apologizing because you knew something was wrong and should have tried to find out sooner.
Then it was our first kiss. It was short, but so sweet. We were in detention for letting off stink bombs in the corridors and getting caught. You said you wondered what it was like to kiss a guy. We were both thirteen, and we knew that's not what we meant. We knew we liked, maybe even loved, each other. So we tried it out. I remember you tasted like chocolate and pumpkin juice and you smelled like the outdoors and the fire and your favorite squishy armchair by the fire.
And then was graduation. It was so bittersweet. I was so happy to finally be leaving this place. But I was scared. I was an adult now, and expected to live on my own. I was also sad. I didn't want to loose the only love I'd ever known. I wanted to be with you, I wanted you to take me in your arms and tell me everything was all right. I wanted you to make everything better.
James and Lily were getting married. It was the first time the old gang was getting together. I saw you for the first time in monthes. I couldn't remember being happier. I remember how we slipped away and you kissed me again. It was something I had missed, your kiss. I swore then and there I would stay devoted to you.
Then Harry was born. There was a big party, although we had seen each other many times between the wedding and Harry's birth, it felt better to be among our friends. That's where we made it publicly known we were together, although James said he had known it for years, which I did not doubt.
Then came the horrible and tragic deaths of Lily and James. I couldn't believe it. Then when Peter accused you and blew up those muggles. That had to be the worst 48 hours of my life. Then you went to Azkaban and my worst nightmares became a reality. We were separated.
I hated you and I loved you at the same time, although the love greatly outweighed the hate. When you broke out I jumped at the chance to see you, to tell you I still loved you. I had so many chances, but I never told you. I never said, "I still love you." It must have hurt. I could see the pain in your eyes when you looked at me. You thought I didn't love you anymore. How wrong you were.
I can't express my feelings because there aren't words to express them. Even if there were, I still don't think I could. I feel unimaginable loss and hate at Bellatrix, but mostly at myself. Sometimes I scream at god because he did the most horrible thing. He stole my friends, my love, my happiness, and left me alive. Alive to wither up and die inside and stay the shadow of whom I used to be. He left me alive to cry every night wishing for something I can't have, and having something I don't want.
For a while, I was a dreamchaser. I chased my dreams and sought out a way to bring you back. Sought out for a little bit of happiness. But chasing dreams is like trying to find the end of a rainbow. When you think you've got it, it disappears.
But, even after all this, after all the hatred at myself, I still want you to know something. I am still loyal to you. And I still love you.
I will always love you.
Yea. I wrote this at 3 in the morning and finished at 4. I might add more, like an actual PLOT (which this seems to lack) but that depends. This is just basically a bunch of jabber from me from readin too many angsty post- OotP-Character-Death stories so yea. REVIEW PLEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!