Winded Thoughts

Judging by the skies anyone would have guessed it was a fine day indeed. The brilliant shades of blue poured over the heavens and there was not a cloud in sight. The sun's warmth cascaded down upon the land like an engulfing hug and the constant chirping of the birds were heard dimly in the background.

But the warmth or these days did nothing to phaze him as his constant thoughts about what was to come of the next day and what lay ahead for his future. Each day brought nothing for him but the winds that passed through his messy raven-colored hair. He pushed the bridge of his glasses higher up his nose as his eyes transfixed on the blurry nothingness of the day. The pit of his stomach swayed with his walking as he carried on past the Great Hall until he passed through the large oak doors and onto the sunny grounds. Thankful for poor security during lunch hour, Harry needed to clear his head of thoughts and inhale pure air.

He would fade out into lost thoughts only to be brought back to reality by the occasional growl of his stomach. Lately he seemed to be suffering from the lack of will to concentrate. Harry shoved his hands in the pockets of his oversized tattered jeans passed down to him from his pig of a cousin. Subconsciously he didn't know where he was going and it didn't matter as long as he got away from the crowd. The late morning funeral seemed to cast a gloomy spell over Hogwarts and it's outside guests, something that Harry would rather not be a part of.

Through the funeral Harry couldn't help but feel like he never had a moment of peace for his mind. He was constantly badgered and bugged by Professor Slughorn and his fellow celebrity 'friends'. No, truth be told he didn't feel very social during that time of death and mourning. Instead he went back to his room and packed his belongings that were still strewn about, possibly for the last time at Hogwarts. It was a good day to hide from Professor Slughorn…and the world.

It was like preparing for war. Waiting on the edge of his life that he would not escape. It was not up to him to defeat Lord Voldemort and with or without Professor Dumbledore he would kill the Dark Lord. What worried Harry is if the outcome would be different now that Professor Dumbledore had…What if it was like the prophecy? What if this one tragic moment could ruin the rest of the world? All that Harry knew was that once he stepped foot out of the boy's dormitory things wouldn't be the same. Harry had no more protection. Harry Potter has to be his own hero.

Now that he was standing outside in the bright-colored world, fully bathed in the warm wind, he did feel different. Things did change. No more candy assorted passwords, twinkling eyes that hovered over half-moon spectacles, and a soothing voice that would explain the only necessary information and more until due time. No more Professor Dumbledore. A wizard who changed the world with his strong faith in people and yet it was also his curse. The love he was known for had killed him in the end. Emerald eyes glazed over as he continued to try to feel some emptiness before his head spilled over. How could the world look so enchanting on such a beautifully dark day?

A headache threatened Harry as he rubbed his temples in part frustration and the other in exhaustion. The feeling that creeped in hadn't settled in like this since the death of Sirius. It was like a low buzz that came with a stabbing guilt. There was always and always will be that…what if?

A numb trance took hold of his legs as he walked over the poorly cut grass with settled morning dew that still covered the vast greens. Harry's slim hips ground against his pelvic bone slowly at first until it picked up to a fast walk and almost to a sprint. A cool breeze off the lake touched Harry, carrying a paralyzing ache and a harsh chill that instantly caused goose bumps to blanket over his skin.

As he stopped he gathered his arms around his chest to try and keep the cold out. The wind once again brought him back to reality as he found himself looking at a boy with a ghostly look. His skin was pallor and cuts appeared here and there on his matured face. The emptiness in his eyes shown with no compassion almost with a burning hatred filled with a pool of tears. Harry's scar shimmered on the waters reflection as he continued to stare at his mirrored image. It was an image of nothing to him as he through a rock, which broke the surface and created vanishing rings. His reflection broken.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of white looking marble. Only a glimpse, because facing that direction would be facing a death that was still to fresh for words. A noise caught his attention and got the best of him; he looked to his left and felt his heart rip as he lived the nightmare all over again.

Hot tears rushed to Harry's eyes as he hugged himself even harder than before. He caught himself looking at the one thing he tried to avoid in his loneliness that day. As lonely as Harry felt in that moment it seemed as if all of the world were watching him, the entire world judging and stoning him. The guilt was like a smack in the face and the…what if? It had found its way in his soul.

The memories surfaced like an air bubble. Seeing Professor Dumbledore for the first time with that peculiar twinkle in his eyes under his half-moon spectacles as Harry was welcomed to the Gryffindor house with open arms. In second year Professor Dumbledore was the only person alive or dead who believed Harry to be innocent of the attacks on the school. Harry blaming Professor Dumbledore and screaming at him for Sirius's death until he had the old man in tears. Harry now wept as he touched the tomb; a glass-smooth surface, as his fingertips traced the edges. Harry pressed his forehead against the warm tomb, licking the tears that stained his lips. Time seemed to pass quickly, like a hot fun-filled summer day where time has no meaning.

Harry's ears perked up and he lifted his head at the sounds of something falling. Looking down, he noticed a small card lying upside down in the flattened grass. Curious, he crinkled his nose and sniffed as he warily picked it up, thinking it to be a bit of trash. Instead, Harry turned it right side up, and found himself face to face with an old tattered wizard collector's card beginning with the name 'Albus Dumbledore' at the top and a picture of the wizard waving merrily at the card holder.

His eyes widened as if just exposed to a bright light, remembering this to be the card he got with his first chocolate frog during his first year on the train. He had forgotten that he had stuffed it in his pocket when packing in the slight daze that seemed to control him all day.

Looking at the card and seeing Professor Dumbledore there, Harry felt as if nothing had happened; as if no one had died or suffered. It was like waking up from a nightmare and realizing the bad dream you were having wasn't really just that, only a dream. If only we could live in our dreams.

"Harry! It's time to board the carriages!" Hermione's voice called out across the grounds. He looked and saw her standing on the dirt road leading into Hogsmeade with Ron by her side who was nearly choking on a chicken leg. Slightly chuckling to himself he looked back down to see that the once occupied card now had a blank space where the picture once was. Professor Dumbledore had vanished just like that. Harry's grin quickly faded as Ron's voice came into his head: i "Well you can't expect him to run around all day! Can you?" i

A silent tear slowly trickled down Harry Potter's face. Just one as he set the card on Professor Dumbledore's grave and turned around, walking into the fading sun.

"Until we meet again Professor," he quietly spoke into the chilling wind that rippled against his skin.

"Until we meet again…"