Tittle: WE WEAR THE MASK

Author: Nicole Mellano

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Summary: Harry muses and broods. A bit of angst.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own the poem.

A/N Had nothing better to do in I.T. so I let my mad rambling get the better of me. Enjoy!

WE WEAR THE MASK

"We wear the mask that grins and lies,"

Yet again, Harry was sitting at the welcoming feast. Smiling and fooling around with his friends pretending that everything was all right. Pretending that he was fine and not hurt in all sorts of places imaginable and unimaginable thanks to his 'loving' family. Pretending that no prophecy exists and that he is not in fact destined to die some day very soon.

"It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,"

Hoping, longing for someone to notice his hastily applied glamour charms. Hoping that perhaps this year some one will notice that his smiles are fake, and that there hides an enormous pain in those bright green eyes. That the spark is long gone, replaced by weariness and pain. So much pain.

"This debt we pay to human guile;"

But no one notices and he goes on pretending. Smiling and laughing. Doing his homework and playing Quidditch. Going through the motions for the sake of everyone else. The hero must always go on. No one cares of the inner turmoil Harry is facing. As long as he looks happy and acts as usual, everything will work out just fine.

"With torn and bleeding heart we smile,"

Not knowing that his heart has bled to death long ago. Not knowing that inside he's died. And all those smiles are for show. Harry feels numb, has for years now. Not even longing penetrates him any more.

"Why should the world be over wise,"

The rest of the Wizarding world don't know for fear of knowing. Why should they wish to know? When the time comes the good old predictable Harry will save the day. He might die in the process? Oh well sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. Maybe they'll even have a national Harry Potter day. What a joke.

"In counting all our tears and sighs?"

What use is it to notice his incredible anguish? All it will do is make them pity themselves for having a weakling for a saviour. What use? No one can do anything. And yet for all his promises of not caring he looks around and wonders perhaps? Perhaps some one does care. Yet he looks and looks, and sees nothing.

"Nay, let them only see us, while

We wear the Mask."

So he goes on pretending. Smiling, laughing. Going through the motions.

"We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries

To thee from tortured souls arise."

Oh but dear god inside he's long dead. These days only on the rare occasion does he even notice his loneliness and pain. And he continues crying and silently asking why. Why me?

"But let the world dream otherwise,

We wear the Mask!"

Let the Wizarding World and Dumbledore and all of his friends, let them keep their dream. He, Harry, shall go on pretending. Just as he has these past seven years.

The End