Summary: She hated to do this, and it broke her heart even thinking about it, but she knew it had to be done. She had made up her mind, and there was no turning back now. She only hoped that someday he would understand.
Disclaimer: If I really owned Harry Potter, would I be wasting my time on here? Didn't think so. I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does.
Warnings: Mild cursing
*Originally published 10 Nov 2008*
-=Matters of the Heart=-
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The quill fell from her hand as she doubled over in pain, another wave of agony crashing through her thin frame.
With a dull thud it connected with the desk and knocked over the inkwell, splattering darkness everywhere. She felt it drip from her hair and watched as it trickled onto the heavy wood. If she actually cared she could look in a mirror and notice that as the viscous black mixed with the tears streaming down her face, she rather resembled a corpse.
She let the ink spread over the heavy wood and seep into the stacks of spare parchment. She watched thick drops form on the edge and fall to the mahogany floor. If she actually cared she could grab a cloth and clean it up, preventing it from seeping into the cracks and leaving permanent stains. But she knew she wouldn't be around to clean it up; she wouldn't be around to care.
But no matter how hard she tried not to care, no matter how much she tried to numb herself, the pain was always there. The tears were always there, forever lurking behind her eyelids, forever threatening to spill over.
She glanced down at the letter she had been writing and felt in her heart that she could never finish it. She didn't think she could stand any more heartache. She couldn't take any more pain, even if this time she was inflicting it onto herself.
Well, I guess it's good enough, she thought. He doesn't deserve any better, after all. Not after what he's put me through.
After one last moment's hesitation, she slowly stood up and dried her leaking eyes. Now is not the time for tears.
Steeling herself for what had to be the thousandth time that night, she took a deep breath, picked up her note, and gathered her cloak. Aside from her wand, it was the only thing she was bringing with her. She didn't want anything to remind her of her old life, of her time with him.
She wanted to forget the war, forget that so many of her friends died just to save her weak, pathetic self. She wasn't worth it. She never would be. He had made her sure of that.
She had been so sure of things, so sure of his love for her. How could things have gone so wrong? How could I have been so stupid?
He had been willing to sacrifice his life for both her and the cause. He was there as Harry had ended it all, standing at the teen's side. He never flinched or hesitated, looking his former master square in the eye. It was the ultimate act of betrayal and defiance. She was proud of him, more than he could ever know. More than he ever would know.
He would never know what became of her after she left. He would never know his children...no, her children. She briefly wondered if she would ever disclose his identity to the twins that were slowly forming inside her, but she let the moment pass. She would deal with that can of worms when the time came.
She was starting over, forging a new life with nothing more than the clothes on her back and the pain in her heart.
Soon he would be nothing more than a distant memory, a foggy swirl of illicit late night visits and secrecy. He would be nothing more than a bad dream, and someday… eventually… she would wake up from it.
She hated to do this, and it broke her heart even thinking about it, but she knew it had to be done. She had made up her mind, and there was no turning back now. She only hoped that someday he would understand, or at least get a reality check.
Bastard.
With every passing second her heart and her body protested, but in the end her mind always won. Logic is the answer, she reasoned, and logic is always right.
The one time I ignored my reasoning was the one time where it really mattered… But who needs love when you can have knowledge? Knowledge doesn't turn around and stab you in the back. Knowledge doesn't use you.
Yes, knowledge was the answer. She would devote herself to studying, to research. She would immerse herself once again in the Muggle world and devote herself to becoming the silly little bookworm he used to think she would be.
Back when she had goals and dreams in life, that is. Back when she still had control over her life.
Perhaps she could become a professor, or a scientist, or… No. I'll deal with that when the time comes. The only thing that matters now is leaving. If I don't do it now, I don't think I'll ever gather the courage to do it again.
It was now or never; it was time to be strong.
Silently, she unfolded the parchment she had been clutching so tightly at the time and laid it gently on her pillow, taking care not to wake the sleeping man. She didn't even bother to smooth it out. It was rough, just like his hands.
Just like him.
She wrapped her cloak around herself tightly so it wouldn't slip off and fled the room, leaving her memories and her heart behind. She was a coward, she knew, but with every step she grew more and more confident. She could do this. She could survive. If not only for herself, then for her children and the (hopefully) better lives they would lead.
It's not as if she was leaving anyone or anything behind anyway, she realized bitterly. Nobody would miss her. To everyone else, she had all but disappeared from the Earth already. She had turned her back on everyone she loved. She had thrown it all away for nothing more than a broken heart.
And to think I actually thought we would share a life, a real life...I hope someday everyone can forgive me...If they haven't already forgotten me, that is...
She ran through the Manor, stumbling on stairs and tripping over cracks in the ancient house. She ran through the gardens until she reached the edge of the woods. She ran along the treeline, through the old iron gate at the edge of the property, and around the lake. Only when she regained her senses did she stop, clutching at her sides and gasping for breath.
Her hand fluttered to her slightly swollen abdomen as she wheezed, realizing that she probably shouldn't have exerted herself like that in her current condition.
Gusts of bitterly cold wind slammed into her back and whipped through her hair. An icy fist gripped her heart, and she chose not to ask herself whether it was just the frosty night air or something deeper and more personal that chilled her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, knowing that nobody would hear it.
With a slight pop she disappeared, leaving only a plume of breath behind as evidence that she ever existed.
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A/N: Yes, this is written for two particular characters. However, I think that it can go several different ways so feel free to use your imagination and come up with your own pairing. As always, R&R!
Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
-=Nix=-