Disclaimer: everything from HP books belongs to JK Rowling
Forgotten
It was one of those things that you never talked about. It was never mentioned, never remembered once she let you go. It was forgotten the moment he kissed her and asked her to be his. You were forgotten the moment her eyes lit up and jumped into his arms. You became another memory to her, another feeling of the past discarded into the farthest reaches of her mind. And never again will she ever look at you with the same joy. Never again will she speak the three words you used to constantly hear.
You're in the background now. Your whole life has been spent in shadows and darkness and only for a few years was the spotlight ever on you. It was only for a few years that your skin glowed in the sunshine and those lines by your eyes were nonexistent. Love changed you. Love is still changing you.
She took him to your spot, the place you and her used to always go. You remember sitting there listening to him talk about the flowers and the moonlight and you were smothered with memories of the sanctuary the two of you used to share. You looked into your friend's eyes, his glowing hazel eyes, and you wonder, does he not remember at all? Does he not remember when you would talk of that place? When it was you who went there?
You watch them kiss and hold hands and act the way lovers act. When you talk to her, her eyes are brighter than you've ever seen them and it is so clear to you, she loves him. She loves him more than she ever loved you. So many nights you sit by the window staring at the moon thinking about her back when she was odd and cynical and in love with you. You live off the memories of those days now. Of your old debates and walks through Hogsmeade, of your sweet kisses and passionate embraces. You live off your past and forget the present. You wake up some mornings fancying that the spotlight still shines on your light brown hair. You wake up sometimes thinking that she'll be in the common room waiting for you, her smile goofy and tie askew.
She's changed since she left you. Left you? You say that as if she just got up one day and decided she didn't want you anymore. You think nothing about the fight, about you telling you that you no longer loved her. You never think of the tears you made her cry, the heart you broke so completely. In your mind you're the victim, the one in distress. You were her first love, her first everything. That night when you fought over… you can't even remember, you broke more than her heart; you broke her faith, her soul. But still you stare at the moon and think about the elegance that replaced her clumsiness and the optimistic smile that replaced her goofy grin. She's changed and yet, you still love her.
You tried to bring it up once. The five of you sat in the common room laughing, drinking butterbeer, and eating sweets from the kitchens. You were calmer than normal from the fire whiskey Sirius had smuggled in and made a joke about when you and Lily were together. And then you looked at her, at her surprised face and bright emerald eyes, and saw that she had no wish to recall the old days, the happiest days of your life. And James, he put his arm around her shoulders and talked about quidditch as if you never said anything about her. You watched their eyes, nervous and apprehensive, and you know they were trying to banish every thought of you out of their minds. They tried to forget, they always did.
You sometimes feel impure, evil to some extent. You feel as if you committed some awful deed by loving her. But you truly don't understand the precaution, the need to forget about you. You sometimes think that he sees you as a threat, the man Lily might still love. You think he's a fool to think that, but then you smile happily wondering if it could be true. You dream about the impossible, about her running to you and putting her arms around you, kissing you with the passion and sweetness you'll never again taste. You dream at night about goofy grins and wrinkled clothes and the love you pretend never existed. But it's never spoken of, never remembered. Your love is forgotten never to be thought of again.
End
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