Hiya! This is just a short oneshot. Just two lovers separated by the war and by death... up to you guys on who the two are... I don't specify... just in my mind this is someone from the 'light side' waiting on someone whose family is of the deatheater ranks.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Please Read and Review. Flamers will be Trashed!
He sat and waited.
The night closed in all around. The crisp air stung his lungs. Shallow breaths coming in white puffs. Shivers ran through his pale body. His clothing hanging limply on his slight frame.
Though it was little more than skin and bone now, all muscle gone over the endless wait...
Yet still he sat and waited. Waited for the one who promised to return.
Each night he came and sat beneath their tree. Their tree, because here was where they first met and later where they shared all of their other firsts.
A small blissful smile graced his once plump pink lips.
It only made sense that here is where his love would return to him, so they could rekindle their love. Until that day, he just sat and waited.
For his love promised to return. And he always kept his word.
Even if so many nights had passed on by since that promise had been made...
His friends no longer tried to convince him to stay inside or to talk to them. In fact, they barely spoke to him at all anymore.
For they knew his heart lay here. Within the branches of this tree, waiting for the one who holds the key to his love to return.
Afterall he promised.
He glanced towards the castle, though he knew all he would see is the gentle warm glow of lights on either side of the open doors. Left to guide his way back should he so chose.
The teachers had all long since given up on trying to make him stay inside at night. Or to talk. Or participate in class. Or to rejoin the Quidditch team.
He attends class. Does his homework. And eats enough to get by.
Enough to prevent them from begin able to force him to go to the hospital. He'd been cleared by the shrink they called in last month. Much to their displeasure. His parents had disowned him when they learnt of his love's identity.
He showered every three days. Put on clean clothes. Brushed his teeth and hair.
He did all that was required of him.
They all hate it. But have long since realised they could get him to do no more. And could do nothing without his parents or a guardian or healer's say so.
They despaired of this but were powerless to act. He knew it and they knew he knew.
It saddened them. Especially his head of house who felt that she was failing one of her students.
So they sit back and watch. Waiting for him to break. Waiting for him to crumble and fall. Waiting so that they may act.
Yet he does not see this. Or does not acknowledge it.
For all his mind can see is that promise that his soul-mate made to him.
A parody of a smile tugs at his too pale a face with his hooded deep shadowed eyes, and blue tinged, chapped, flaking lips. As his breath leaves his body for the final time.
But a true overjoyed smile encompasses his rejuvenated beautiful spirit as he sees his love standing beneath their tree smiling broadly. A hand stretched outwards, eyes gleaming in happiness.
Together once more, hand in hand, they walk into the golden light, leaving this world behind.
In the morning a frozen body will be found. A soft smile eternally etched into the face. Tears will be shed. Yet, at the same time they will look to the sky and smile tearfully hoping that both are together at last.