"Fire and Ice"
Some say the world will end in fire,
We fought again. It was always the same fight with slightly different words. How long will it be before one of these fights break us? I wondered every time.
Some say in ice.
Our bed was cold, his words were cold, our relationship was cold. Empty. It felt like a dementor hovered between us. I tried to touch him. He shrugged away.
"Just leave me alone, Albus," he said.
From what I've tasted of desire…
Our make-ups were as passionate as our fights. When I broke down his wall or he broke through mine, it felt like the arguments, the anger, the words said-but-not-meant never happened. We kissed feverishly and he pushed me back against the wall.
I hold with those who favor fire.
And in those moments, the world could have crashed down around my ears and I would have never noticed. Fuck Hogwarts, fuck my family, fuck everything as long as I had him. He was all that mattered.
But if it had to perish twice,
We swung like a helpless pendulum between being lovers and fighters. My world would have ended without him, and the Muggle world would have ended with him.
But remember, it was all "for the greater good"…
I think I know enough of hate…
My family didn't help. I knew I should have cared for them, provided for them. Only three of us were left—a sister who couldn't control her magic, a younger brother who would never amount to anything, and me. Part of me hated Aberforth and Ariana for keeping me there when I could have been traveling the world. The other part was grateful because otherwise I never would have met Gellert. But when Gellert and I argued and I didn't want to be around him anymore, all the reasons I hated being tied down surged up again. They kept me there, where I couldn't escape. I knew it was wrong, blaming them. I didn't care.
To say that for destruction, ice…
This time Aberforth got involved. Gellert, Aberforth, and I were all fighting. Ariana came in, looking scared. She was only 14, and had already had a lifetime's share of violence. The world exploded. At first I was blinded by the light, but then I saw her. She laid on the ground, eyes already glazing.
I felt so cold. Shock, maybe? All I could do was think about damages. Would the Ministry get involved? Would they find out what Gellert and I had been planning?
Couldn't I feel anything for her?
Is also great…
Gellert ran. Who killed her? Gellert, in a panicked moment of self-defense? He was always so rash. Or me, subconsciously calculating a solution to the problem—my sister, the perpetual problem; what kind of monster am I?—and finishing it all without even a moment's thought?
And would suffice.
It's been eighty years, and Ariana still appears in my dreams—accusing eyes in a face too pale to be alive. Maybe it was Gellert. I can't believe I would do that to Ariana…could I? The doubts will haunt me forever, I think. In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter who did it. Whether it was Gellert or me who cast that fatal spell, the end was the same, right? She had died and taken part of me with her.