In dreams I wonder how different our lives would be.
Had it not been for me
Had it not been for that word.
I go back to when we were children at Hogwarts, when our only worries in life were passing exams and getting to bed after curfew without being caught.
There are many nights where I see you, your flowing auburn hair draped over your shoulders. A single strand isn't quite in place. I go to fix it, but the moment my hand touches your head – it falls through. You flicker, your gaze locks onto mine, your lips part to say something, and you disappear.
Even in my dreams you are dead.
Perhaps it is punishment – karma, some may call it. Karma for my actions, my words.
And I deserve every ounce of it.
There are other nights where I dream you, and you are with the man you married. You look so happy. I am too far to hear your words, but whatever the conversation is, you and… him, are smiling. And that sight of your peaceful contentedness pierces through me sharper than any knife ever could, and it is because I know he gave you everything I never could.
In those few years of our friendship, you gave me your love, your kindness, your patience. You gave me you.
And all I ever gave you in return was the word Mudblood.
In my pride I pushed you away and joined the ranks of the darkest wizard the world has ever known. That was my gift to you.
And you are dead.
Perhaps you are up in heaven with your husband. Though, I have never been particularly spiritual, and hardly believed in an afterlife. But for you, I hope there is one. A person with a soul as beautiful as yours doesn't deserve anything less than immortality.
If there was a spell, or a potion, or a time turner that could allow me to go back that far, and allow me to rewrite those wrongs, I would. They don't exist.
Only in my dreams.