A/N: I understand it might be a little odd to ask you to listen to a non-English song while reading- but...please read while listening to the Dream Version of Tujhe Bhula Diya. Thank you(:
They had all lost something in the war.
Whether it had been a sister, a memory, an unmarked piece of skin…
They had all lost something valuable.
And sometimes she wondered why.
She wondered if there was a reason to the slaughter, to the bloodshed that so changed her life.
She wondered at the little things, the tiny occurrences in day-to-day life that might have changed the outcome.
"Bell? Ah, I see. Muggleborn, correct?"
She wasn't sure whether to speak aloud or think, so she settled for nodding vigorously.
She could feel a grin stretching the frayed mouth of the hat.
"Well, you are certainly a difficult one. Brave, loyal…traits for a Gryffindor. But I see a surprising amount of dedication here….Hufflepuff would serve just as well, you know. Not Ravenclaw or Slytherin however- you would have a difficult time there."
In reality, she barely cared- all she wanted was to get off the high stool that made her feel as if she was being dissected in front of the entire school.
She could feel the amusement radiating off of the hat and the sudden decision in his mind. "No desire for the spotlight? Well, Godric knows that House needs some down-to-earth children. Better make you- GRYFFINDOR!"
Applause filled the Hall, along with catcalls and whistles.
She hopped off the stool with a sense of relief, one hand reaching up to whip the hat off her head. But right before the rims of the black cloth left her head, she heard it whisper- "Good luck."
And she made her way to her seat.
Now, in retrospect, she wonders what would have happened if the hat had decided to put her in Hufflepuff- would she have stayed for the final battle?
Would she have loved a man who would never love her back?
Would she have the scars that mangle her face, the ones that cause children on the street to whimper and hide behind their mothers' skirts?
Or would she have stayed regardless, fought with all her heart and strength and soul because that is who she is, she is Katie, she is brave, she is kind, she is determined, she is not the type to back down from a fight that she knows in her heart is right.
Would her life have crumbled down around her regardless?
She chokes back a sob, one fisted hand rubbing her eyes.
"I'm so sorry." And the healer's face does look sorry- that's what she hates most of all.
She is not pitiful, damn it, she is strong, she fought, she wanted freedom, she wanted-she wanted- to be whole.
Yet that is something that she will never be again.
And with an intake of breath from the Healer and a crash, she slams her fist into the mirror, sending the monstrous reflection in it to Hell where it belongs.
It's been years, it has, and her reflection never fails to send a jolt of shock through her body.
Somehow, she thinks, even now, that she is still Katie, the eighteen-year old girl that was pretty and complete, not Katie Bell, one of the war veterans, one of the brave barely-adults that fought for what so many have forgotten.
And perhaps that is what hurts most of all- that they have all forgotten.
That nobody cares to remember why her face looks the way it does.
She is not Lavender- she cannot wear her scars with pride, she cannot bare her back for the world to see.
For her back has no blemishes and it her face that has taken the brunt of the war.
She sees Angelina comforting a stony-faced George in a corner of the Hall and it is then that she knows- that she sees that he was never meant for her, that he is lost now, and that she could never find him.
So she turns away, tears falling from her one good eye and wetting the bandages on her face.
But she is stopped by a couple standing in front of her.
She swallows heavily.
Harry looks at her and his eyes are filled with a sort of unimaginable sadness and for a moment she think that he might understand because his hand involuntary reaches up to gently touch the bandages on the side of her face.
But the moment passes and his hand drops and so does his head, and she is filled with shame because she realizes that he will be burdened with this guilt for the rest of his life and that she cannot feel vindictive, that she cannot hate him for being the reason this war ever started.
Ginny darts forward, eyes still thick with tears for her dead brother, and lays a quick, soft kiss on her cheek. Then she takes Harry's hand and leads him away and Katie is left alone.
As she will be forever.
Happy endings exist, she knows they do.
For everyone else has them- everyone else from the war. Lavender, with all her scars, has Dean, and George has Angelina, and little Dennis Creevey has his beautiful children- a new Colin born into being.
But Katie Bell is alone again, and her only companion is the reflection in the mirror that she can never leave behind.
Hello again! I'm not sure what this is- this sudden torrent of one-shots! But I would really, really love it if you would leave a review, especially if you're favorite-ing. They mean a lot to me!
-FantaFaerie
