Disclaimer: JKR owns all.
Lost
By WinterPolaris
Fog. Trees. Everything is dark, just like in a black and white movie. Only, this is not black and white. There are colors, all right. I just cannot see it.
I am blind, but I am not. I can see physically. I can see the leaves falling off the branches. I can see the twigs I am stepping on, breaking apart under the pressure of my body. I can see, barely, the opposite side of the field. I can see more trees behind the foggy screen.
But I cannot see emotionally. I cannot tell where I was going. I am lost, but I am not wandering. "Not all those who wander are lost." Well, not all those who are lost wander. That does not even make sense. I may not be sensible, but I am more sensible to be making a statement like that. But I can understand that. I am lost.
So deeply lost.
I keep walking. Where I will end up, I do not know. I just keep walking. No matter what, that is what I will do: keep walking. A little voice in my head is telling me to stop. But I will not comply. No. I am going to keep walking. I am going to walk through this fog. I am going to walk on the soft morning grass. I am going to walk in the midst of the woods.
I will not stop.
"But you must," the voice taunts again. "This is your home. You belong here."
I keep on walking. I do not care what my instinct is telling me. "Danger," it says. "There is danger beyond these woods." I am not going to mind danger. I will keep walking.
"You do not mind the danger that you will face?" the voice asks.
Indeed, I do not. There is nothing to fear anymore. I feel nothing. There is no emotion in my heart. There is no knowledge in my mind, which is, to say the least, terrifying. But at the same time, very freeing. Knowledge and emotion have been my prison since the beginning. What I need is something, someone, to free me from my cage.
I keep walking. There is no point in stopping now, not when I have realized I am free. And, straight ahead, I see my savior.
I can hear my footsteps, even though I am standing on the soft blades. Who will ever think blades can be soft? I keep walking. She sees me, and yet makes no movement. Her eyes are on me, but her body is staying still.
"Do you see?" she asks. "Do you see why you belong here?"
Yes, I do see. I do now. Here, I am free. Free from the outside world. Free from emotion and knowledge. Free from my reputation. Free from myself.
"I do not free you," she simply states. "One frees oneself. I am only your motivation."
Suddenly, I see something. I finally see, in this cold, dark world. I see something more than fog, more than trees, more than grass.
I see a heart. I see a free heart, red with fire that burns with passion. It is real. I cannot touch it, but it is more real than the skin that I can touch. It is her heart. It is my heart.
The heart of a Gryffindor. And, ironically, the heart of a Slytherin.
Lost
By WinterPolaris
Fog. Trees. Everything is dark, just like in a black and white movie. Only, this is not black and white. There are colors, all right. I just cannot see it.
I am blind, but I am not. I can see physically. I can see the leaves falling off the branches. I can see the twigs I am stepping on, breaking apart under the pressure of my body. I can see, barely, the opposite side of the field. I can see more trees behind the foggy screen.
But I cannot see emotionally. I cannot tell where I was going. I am lost, but I am not wandering. "Not all those who wander are lost." Well, not all those who are lost wander. That does not even make sense. I may not be sensible, but I am more sensible to be making a statement like that. But I can understand that. I am lost.
So deeply lost.
I keep walking. Where I will end up, I do not know. I just keep walking. No matter what, that is what I will do: keep walking. A little voice in my head is telling me to stop. But I will not comply. No. I am going to keep walking. I am going to walk through this fog. I am going to walk on the soft morning grass. I am going to walk in the midst of the woods.
I will not stop.
"But you must," the voice taunts again. "This is your home. You belong here."
I keep on walking. I do not care what my instinct is telling me. "Danger," it says. "There is danger beyond these woods." I am not going to mind danger. I will keep walking.
"You do not mind the danger that you will face?" the voice asks.
Indeed, I do not. There is nothing to fear anymore. I feel nothing. There is no emotion in my heart. There is no knowledge in my mind, which is, to say the least, terrifying. But at the same time, very freeing. Knowledge and emotion have been my prison since the beginning. What I need is something, someone, to free me from my cage.
I keep walking. There is no point in stopping now, not when I have realized I am free. And, straight ahead, I see my savior.
I can hear my footsteps, even though I am standing on the soft blades. Who will ever think blades can be soft? I keep walking. She sees me, and yet makes no movement. Her eyes are on me, but her body is staying still.
"Do you see?" she asks. "Do you see why you belong here?"
Yes, I do see. I do now. Here, I am free. Free from the outside world. Free from emotion and knowledge. Free from my reputation. Free from myself.
"I do not free you," she simply states. "One frees oneself. I am only your motivation."
Suddenly, I see something. I finally see, in this cold, dark world. I see something more than fog, more than trees, more than grass.
I see a heart. I see a free heart, red with fire that burns with passion. It is real. I cannot touch it, but it is more real than the skin that I can touch. It is her heart. It is my heart.
The heart of a Gryffindor. And, ironically, the heart of a Slytherin.