Harry twirled his wand in his fingers with a sigh. His quill scratched on the paper, diligently completing a potions essay, but his mind was only halfway on the work. Everything was so overwhelming - what with the Dark Lord's newfound strength, the pressure and blame of Cedric's death, and the overall spite he was both receiving and directing. The world was bitter. All of it was so much…and yet so little.
Everything has its season
Everything has its time
Show me a reason and I'll soon show you a rhyme
Cats fit on the windowsill
Children fit in the snow
Why do I feel I don't fit in anywhere I go?
His heart was constantly pounding, constantly awaiting an approaching adventure or challenge. Ron and Hermione, the good friends they were, tried their best to calm him, but it was no use. He was no use. He was restless about it all, and always unsure. He shakily moved through the days, wondering whether he truly wanted to, whether he could go through with anything once the danger finally came.
Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
Maybe he was more suited to life as a Muggle. It was an ignorant one, but peaceful all the same, and certainly not as horrifying as the thoughts and realities he faced each day. He winced at the thought of life with the Dursley's, and a following one of himself becoming such a lazy and ungrateful slob as Dudley. Magic was his niche, certainly.
Every man has his daydreams
Every man has his goal
People like the way dreams have
Of sticking to the soul
Thunderclouds have their lightning
Nightingales have their song
And don't you see I want my life to be
Something more than long....
It was frustrating, his only aim being the will and perseverance to survive. Survival was important, but if he could truly have something to live for, it would be even more precious. His hand moved to the scar on his forehead, a memory of something he couldn't even remember. Throughout it all, he'd had such an impenetrable ability to live and continue. He must have a place, somewhere. It was just hard to find what it was.
Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
It was silly. He knew what he had to do - revenge on his parents' death was vital, both to his own conscience and to the well being of the world. But somehow he couldn't get rid of the nagging concern; the whine that he was so ashamed of, that perhaps the revenge was someone else's job. That maybe he was meant to do something else.
So many men seem destined
To settle for something small
But I won't rest until I know I'll have it all
So don't ask where I'm going
Just listen when I'm gone
And far away you'll hear me singing
Softly to the dawn:
His quill fell to the page, and the empty common room echoed with silence. He couldn't abandon his life and his responsibility. It was shameful and self-centered. Dumbledore trusted him - the whole wizarding world trusted him - to do what he was told, to do what he seemingly believed in. He couldn't set off for something else or abandon what he stood for. He couldn't see and encourage so much death for his own happiness.
Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
A solitary tear flowed down his face, and he shook with fear. It was a deep fear…one of himself and his thoughts. "No," he whispered. "I can't."
Got to find my corner…
"I won't." He was speaking to no one, but it was comforting all the same.
Got to find my corner…
"There is more to me than…me. I've got to think of the others."
Got to find my corner…
"I've got to survive, if only to save lives. I can't drift off to save myself." He took a deep breath. "It would only make things worse."
Of…
"I might die, but I'll die fighting. Voldemort will be defeated."
The…
"And I will be remembered for more than my scar." He sat back, his heart still throbbing with fear, as it always would. Until the next time he fought the Dark Lord…the time he'd end the pain forever.
He needed to.
He wanted to.
Sky…
Everything has its season
Everything has its time
Show me a reason and I'll soon show you a rhyme
Cats fit on the windowsill
Children fit in the snow
Why do I feel I don't fit in anywhere I go?
His heart was constantly pounding, constantly awaiting an approaching adventure or challenge. Ron and Hermione, the good friends they were, tried their best to calm him, but it was no use. He was no use. He was restless about it all, and always unsure. He shakily moved through the days, wondering whether he truly wanted to, whether he could go through with anything once the danger finally came.
Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
Maybe he was more suited to life as a Muggle. It was an ignorant one, but peaceful all the same, and certainly not as horrifying as the thoughts and realities he faced each day. He winced at the thought of life with the Dursley's, and a following one of himself becoming such a lazy and ungrateful slob as Dudley. Magic was his niche, certainly.
Every man has his daydreams
Every man has his goal
People like the way dreams have
Of sticking to the soul
Thunderclouds have their lightning
Nightingales have their song
And don't you see I want my life to be
Something more than long....
It was frustrating, his only aim being the will and perseverance to survive. Survival was important, but if he could truly have something to live for, it would be even more precious. His hand moved to the scar on his forehead, a memory of something he couldn't even remember. Throughout it all, he'd had such an impenetrable ability to live and continue. He must have a place, somewhere. It was just hard to find what it was.
Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
It was silly. He knew what he had to do - revenge on his parents' death was vital, both to his own conscience and to the well being of the world. But somehow he couldn't get rid of the nagging concern; the whine that he was so ashamed of, that perhaps the revenge was someone else's job. That maybe he was meant to do something else.
So many men seem destined
To settle for something small
But I won't rest until I know I'll have it all
So don't ask where I'm going
Just listen when I'm gone
And far away you'll hear me singing
Softly to the dawn:
His quill fell to the page, and the empty common room echoed with silence. He couldn't abandon his life and his responsibility. It was shameful and self-centered. Dumbledore trusted him - the whole wizarding world trusted him - to do what he was told, to do what he seemingly believed in. He couldn't set off for something else or abandon what he stood for. He couldn't see and encourage so much death for his own happiness.
Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
A solitary tear flowed down his face, and he shook with fear. It was a deep fear…one of himself and his thoughts. "No," he whispered. "I can't."
Got to find my corner…
"I won't." He was speaking to no one, but it was comforting all the same.
Got to find my corner…
"There is more to me than…me. I've got to think of the others."
Got to find my corner…
"I've got to survive, if only to save lives. I can't drift off to save myself." He took a deep breath. "It would only make things worse."
Of…
"I might die, but I'll die fighting. Voldemort will be defeated."
The…
"And I will be remembered for more than my scar." He sat back, his heart still throbbing with fear, as it always would. Until the next time he fought the Dark Lord…the time he'd end the pain forever.
He needed to.
He wanted to.
Sky…