Young, a harry potter fanfic

Peter Pan: [whispering] Come with me, we'll never... never have to worry about grown-up things again.

Wendy: Never is an awfully long time.

~Peter Pan

Imagine, for just one second a very clear picture of Peter Pan. That hat. The island of Lost Boys. That Hook. And Wendy. The girl in the nightgown. That cool logic that innocence.

But she still loved Peter. Not for any particular reason and not for his soul. For his soul was young but impure and he never did want to grow up.

She had no choice. She had to grow up.

But now, now she is still young. And so is he.

Ginny RyenneWeasley wrote in a scarlet diary and she used a jade inkwell and feathered quill. And it was so pretty.

Riddle,

How're you? I just got back from History of Magic! Binn's is so boring, honestly! Had a great day. Seriously, we had tomato soup for supper and I spoke with Colin and Hermione, I even did well on the Potions exam! Oh Tom, it was great! Wish you were here.

Tom,

What's the matter with me? Why do I think like this...why am I so messed up? But I deserve this, don't I? Oh, I don't know Tom. I forget everything. I don't remember ever being loved or wanted, I don't remember ever being worthy and deserving. I don't remember Tom. It's very scary--and all I have left is History of Magic dates. That's all I have left, Tom! It's scary...I'm scared....

Tom,

I'm fine, aren't I? It's all in my head! My head! That's it! Nothing is leaving, nothing is coming everything is just like it was 'fore this all happened. I'm okay...I'm okay, but Tom! Tom, why are people being petrified? Tom, why do I feel connected to it? I haven't done nothing! I've been good, I'm getting good marks--I'm in Gryffindor--.

Tom,

Everything is so cold, now. I always need a cloak and then I'm still cold. I always smell pears and they remind me of you, because your favorite color is green. I talk to Myrtle sometimes for I am lonely and so is she. Are you lonely, Tom? We can be lonely together, maybe.

Tom,

I'm going down to the chamber now, I wrote my message on the wall. I don't know I've never felt so unsure in my life. I'm on my way, walking down these steps. Reassure me, Tom, reassure me. I'm coming. Coming to be with you. Tell me it's okay...Tom? Tom? Why aren't you responding? Tom. I'm just eleven, Tom, and I'm scared and I hear hissing noises. Tom, I'm scared and my pace is quickening and I just want to stop here and sit down and be brought make up there! Up there...where is up there?...I don't know Tom! I just don't know anymore. Do you love me, Tom? I don't know...I just don't know anymore.

Silence.

There was silence in the Chamber and silence in her heart. There was silence in Percy's mind as he heard about his sister and there was quiet conviction when Harry told Ron: "We're going." There was silence in the way Tom glared—and never said a word--. There was silence in the corridors as students had to go in pairs to the lavatory and pairs up for a snack.

For once, there was silence in the diary.

She vaguely remembers waking up once, and with her last breath she told him: "I just don't know anymore." He looked at the girl and bent down, smiling a cool smile: "You wouldn't be any good, if you did."

Her eyes fluttered close once more and she remembers being rescued--just barely--a boy with dark hair and glittered emerald green eyes. Slashing. Noises. Hissing.

A clang from a diamond encrusted sword falling down and a phoenix's teardrop upon her hair. The diary by her side--that diary--that thing.

But she still wanted Tom. She was just eleven.

Time eventually will pass and she shall get married and have children with blond hair and make shortcake. She will become ageless and timeless and--perhaps old, if she can manage. With gray hair and a tired expression. She shall grow up and live in a nice house and her husband would make nice money and they will do nice things, when they can manage.

She'll forget all of this.

Eventually she will have to grow up.

But now, now she is still young. And so is he.