And who can say if your love grows,

As your heart chose?

Only time.

I look at the woman that they call my wife, but I know it isn't truly her. She isn't the same person, she isn't the one that I loved and married. She has changed and it has already started a long time ago, but I didn't recognise it at first, I didn't know it for what it really meant. I didn't realise the significance of it, I did nothing to stop it, quite the opposite, in fact everything I ever did contributed to who she is now.

She isn't a bad person, she just wasn't as strong as I was, but I didn't want to see it, I never looked through her facade and saw her for who she was until it was too late. I loved her dearly, even though most people wouldn't believe me capable of it, but I know I did. I guess I should have told her more often, I shouldn't have assumed she knew because even if she did, it wouldn't have hurt to say it once more. It may seem insignificant looking at the overall view of how it all turned out, but it isn't to me. I would sleep better today, knowing that I told her when she still remembered who she was and who I was.

I never really told her I loved her, all I did say was that I liked her. That I liked her a lot. I was scared to say that I loved her, I was scared that it would seem weird, somewhat inappropriate and that maybe she wouldn't believe me. I was afraid to put myself out in the open, I was afraid to show feelings. I was never scared she would reject me because I knew she loved me, too, but that only shows me how much I failed. I am weak too, only in a different way. If I could turn back time I would do differently, I would overcome my fear and tell her how I really feel, because now that it's too late I know that it's never ridiculous to speak your mind to the one you love. She would never have laughed at me.

I know she suffers, when she doesn't even realise it herself. At first it was just a spark, buried deep inside her eyes and, more importantly, deep inside her soul. But the spark thrived and evolved into a flame that ate her away right in front of my eyes, and still I didn't notice. Probably because I didn't want to notice, if I did I would have had to act and I was comfortable the way things were. I was thinking of myself and my own pleasures, too preoccupied to notice her change, too preoccupied to take it seriously.

I was sliding down the same steep slope she was on, but I will live to see the end of it. I will learn from her fate and try to turn it around, in order to remain who I am inside. I'm not good, I'm not pure and I'm most things people don't want to be, but I am who I am. He tries to control me just as he has done for so many years, but I will prevail. I will resist, probably much too late, but I have to do it, to honour her. She won't have suffered in vain and even though I know she won't be proud in this life, I'm sure her spirit and memory will be someday.

He controls her completely, she is merely a puppet at his mercy and there is nothing I can do to save her. I was there so many years ago; I saw what he has made of her. It was the moment I realised I had lost her, but back then I was too taken by his powers to admit it. We stayed together because I wanted to believe in his legacy, I wanted to avoid the thought that I had done wrong, many times.

When I think back to that day, I know I did her wrong. Her eyes were burning into my soul and she was consumed by a madness that would never leave her after that day. She was screaming curses at the two people on the floor; she tortured them because it brought her joy. And I admired her, I admired the way she moved around the room, the way she radiated a fiery passion with every movement she made.

It was the beginning of the end; at least that's what I thought in the years after that day. Today I knew the beginning of the end was much earlier. It was the day we set foot on a path that led us to darkness and destruction, following someone who would ultimately destroy us. They knew who we were; they found out that we had been the ones to torture the couple into insanity. They locked us in darkness, but I like to think I have escaped it. She never did, even when she finally walked free again, beside me, the wind in our hair for the first time in many years, I knew she wasn't the woman I had loved.

I wish I had known earlier where it would all lead us, I wish I had known that it would someday tear us apart. It is the fate of mortals to be torn apart by time, age and death, but it shouldn't have happened like this. We should have lived happily until we would have walked with a cane, our hair white and our bodies feeble from old age. Together until the day on which we would go to sleep and never wake up again.

She is still alive today, but she doesn't see me anymore. Maybe she remembers me deep inside, but she doesn't show because she can't anymore. I continue to love her though, even when I know that the person I love is just a memory. I continue to hope, I was always one to hold on, even when I know it will eventually prove to be futile. I will always love her and I will always remember her and if the fates will it, we will meet again some day in another life. But until then, I will mourn her loss.

Everybody knows who I am and everybody knows who she is. They scream when they see us and they wave their wands, shouting curses at us, but they don't know us. Of course in a way that isn't true - they know her because she has become what they have seen in her for a long time. But they for sure don't know me.

I am Rodolphus Lestrange and she used to be my girl.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. The lines at the top are from a song by Enya called "Only Time".

I originally wrote this story for a contest (called Time Turner Contest) on another site several years ago and I don't really like it now, it's not my style anymore...but I thought I'd put it out there after such a long time, because I plan to write again and want to have my "complete works" (if you can even call it that) on here.