A/N: Well, I think of this one as pretty touching. Justin Finch-Fletchley, after the war. Written for the 'Movie Geek Challenge' at HPFC.
Shadows
Shadows. They're all around me. I can't see anything. I'll probably never be able to see. At least, that's what the Healers said. Maybe they're wrong. Maybe I'll be able to see again, in a few weeks, months or years.
My friends are with me. They deserve better, but they're stuck with me. We're together, for better and for worse and I'm quite certain this is the worst it gets. Well, except death.
Death. So many dead friends, family members. The war. It tore us apart and yet, it somehow brought us together. Fighting for the same goal, cheering for good to triumph over evil. I gave my sight away, so we could win. So Voldemort would finally drop dead. I don't regret it. Ever.
Susan is with me, all the time. She insisted on moving in with me, on helping me, on being with me. She deserves better. Someone who could see her. She says that someone else wouldn't feel her, hear her, smell her and taste her like I can. Maybe she's right. Maybe I can become Daredevil. I loved those comic books when I was younger. Now, they are forgotten because I've experienced adventure myself.
I take pleasure in remembering, remembering colours, animals, cities, magic, people. Kisses feel better now. Susan says so as well. I can taste her and touch her in ways I couldn't have when I had my sight.
Terry sometimes says hope got him through. I believe him, but he's never been blind. He doesn't know how it feels, to be in constant darkness, shadows dancing around him all the time, laughing and mocking.
Children approach me on the street. They know I'm a war hero. Huh, strange, I didn't know that. Susan, or Hannah, or Ernie, or whoever is with me at the moment, they help me write my signature, give a little gift to a child who regards us as heroes.
We are not heroes. We are soldiers. Dumbledore's Army. The only thing that kept me from killing myself when I first went blind, it was the Army. Thinking of all my friends there. Of Ernie, who had been my best friend for seven years. Hannah as well. Susan, whom I've loved for quite some time. Wayne and Zach, who were always there when I needed them. I needed to stay strong for them.
"Justin, are you all right?" Susan asks me.
No, Susie, I'm not all right. I'll never be all right.
Why does she love me? I'm a nobody. A blind nobody. I can't look at her each morning and tell her she looks beautiful. Susan says she doesn't need that; she only needs me. I don't know if I should believe her.
"Do you want to go out?" she asks me.
She takes me to the park daily. Why must she torture me like that? Does she not know what pain it gives me to be able to hear, smell, touch and taste, without seeing? I hear birds singing. I hate them. They're happy. I'm not.
Zach sometimes says I've become bitter. What else am I supposed to be? I'm a man, I have feelings. I feel sadness, bitterness and sorrow. I feel immense hatred. Mostly towards the Death Eaters. They have blinded me, taken away my happiness. Then, I feel hatred towards my friends. They are happy. I am not. I hate them. Because of that, I cry.