One Last Time
- October 31st 1981-
Belittled with the overpowering presence of my foe, I falter. My tongue is heavy and my heart weary. I'm a schoolgirl in my demure and trepidation. Not in fear or in justice do I beg, but in hope. For this treachery, I feel I must lament. We are like prey to the death eaters, pawns in their great ruse. Relentless, oppressing, fanatics, they cheat life and death. In this time of shadow and obscurity, I plead for light, if only for a moment, while I'm still breathing.
-June 30th 1977-
I've been temporarily blinded by the sun, which is just as well. For, I might've fainted had I seen what hid behind the suns' rays. Deprivation of social interaction during long hours of study have once again made me hesitant and inhibited. Words cloud my thoughts, delaying my regular bodily functions. I couldn't concentrate with words reverberating in my head.
What other girls?
How do you know if someone truly means something? All the patented methods in decoding feelings have failed. Despite my vigorous effort, I can never decipher his intent. I'm lost in a sea of affection, suffocating in it, unable to see the surface. Everything in his world seems contrived.
I'm different when I'm around you. I want to be that person all the time. I want to be with you all the time.
I can't impede the present any longer. I will have to let the future unfold. I raise my head gradually, afraid to look him in the eyes. My head snaps down at the last moment. I can't bring myself to look at him. If the crowd around us transformed into werewolves, we wouldn't notice. I was suddenly aware of how parched my throat was. My heart rate increases as he bores into me.
I can't stand another second of it, so I erupt with, "I'm sorry I didn't write you. I'm sorry I ran away from you at Flourish and Blotts…"
James looks at me in a way only he could. I don't know what else to say so I add, "And again at Madame Malkins."
He tilts his head, absorbing my outburst. He was about to open his mouth, when I add, "I don't even know why you'd want anything to do with me. Why do you like me anyway? No, don't answer that."
James replied, "I-," but I interrupt him with, "I'm talking too much aren't I?"
James sighs, "Well if you'd let me get a word in..." He has a reassuring smirk on his features. It had once tormented me, but now it comforts me. "I don't mind when you talk too much. I like you because you don't think before you speak."
"James, I told you not to answer my question. I'll blush horri-"
"I like when you blush how the tip of your nose turns red," he expresses as he ignores me.
I clutched my nose in utter mortification. "It does not," I gasp.
"Yes, it does, but in all seriousness, I want to be with you. You put me through agony, but I never stop thinking about you. I need you," he says firmly.
I can only stare at him. His words are hard for me to grasp. James hasn't changed, I have. His faults still remain, but I want him. What does one say to that? How do I say I want to be with you, but I'm scared? How do I tell him I've never had a boyfriend before, without actually telling him? How do I say I'm incapable of loving someone without pushing them away? I fear you'll hurt me, cheat on me, or lie to me. You're better than me. All that came to me were thoughts that couldn't be turned into words, ideas that couldn't be turned into reality. It was about then when I realized about a minute had passed and I had yet to respond.
"I understand, Lily. I'll try my hardest to forget you." he says submissively.
I've gone mental. I know I have. I fling my arms around him, taking him and myself by surprise. The impulse came over me like a current, unstoppable, unwavering. "Don't forget me," I whisper. With just the feeling of being in his arms, I know this is right. I know I was never meant to be held by another person. "I need you too," I say, letting go of all my inhibitions.
-October 31st 1981-
It was like a storm of emotions had come to a sudden halt, ceasing all activity, allowing me to give in. Giving in shouldn't have felt that good. James always knew I'd give in. He knew me a lot better than I'd thought. It was not until that day that I understood love. Love is not meant to be understood. It can't be defined, encased, or controlled, but, when it's there you will know, and nothing will compare to its splendor. That day was followed by the best years of my life. I know I'm about to die. My throat is hoarse and my will is gone. I have screamed, fought, and pleaded. The time of hope has passed, and now I must accept my fate. I would not have survived this devastation without my memory. I want to take this last moment to beg. I look into the dark eyes of my enemy. His hatred was bred by neglect and abandonment, but I will never feel for him. I have lived a full life, but why Harry? I wish not to beg for my own life, but that of my son. Let him be spared. With all my love, spare him.