Everyone was in the midst of celebration. Gryffindor had won the quittach cup again, but by the looks on the lion's faces, you would have thought we'd won the war. Looking around the room I saw everyone laughing, hugging, kissing, once again I felt the sting of isolation.
No matter how hard I try I can't break the barrio between us, the one that stops me from feeling as they do, that stops me from escaping the constant black I feel, and into the bright white.
A hand touches my shoulder, Harry, he looked concerned. I pasted a smile on my face, as I had done everyday for the past year.
I excused myself from his presence, moving closer to the fire, taking a seat.
I'm not certain how I got this way, maybe it was the fear that stared it, but it could have easily have just as easily been the pain, or the constant death. Or maybe I was just born fucked up.
Jordan took a seat beside me, asking of what I thought of the game. I answered cheerfully, giving him a satisfactory enough answer, truth be told I hardly paid attention at all.
He asked why I wasn't hanging out with everyone.
I gave him a half truth, saying I wasn't feeling well.
He suggested a cheering potion as a joke, then added with a serious tone that if I was ill to go see Madam Pomfrey.
If only it could be that simple. I'd tried many potions, they helped for a while, but never forever, and the after effects are hard to cope with each time I crashed back into the black. The fake feelings do nothing for me but cause more pain.
I told him I would go see her, and got up to leave. He offered to come with, I told him to stay, and Hannah Abbott's attention on him ensured that he would.
Walking to the portrait I became encircled by the others' bliss. All of them were oblivious to my pain, none of them knew of the hurt I harbored. I sliped into the black.
My breathing quickened, my heart raced, I needed air.
I made my way to the exit, a voice called after me, Ron's I recognized, but I didn't turn. I knew he wouldn't follow, he was too enthralled with the party; I needed to get out.
I headed for the grounds, not caring that it was after curfew, most of the teachers loved me anyways. Wonderful they called me, bet they wouldn't think I was so wonderful if they could see inside of my head.
At last I reached the door, my escape, and pushed it open.
The cold air stung my face, the shock of it caused my breathing to hitch, it was early spring, but it still felt like winter.
I broke into a run across the courtyard to the back of the school. I didn't know here I was going, but the hard movement felt good, a distraction from my own inner turmoil. Tears escaped my eyes from the frozen temperature and my quick pace, but I don't bother wiping them away. My heart rate quickened to a pounding that I could feel in my head. My muscles cried out in pain, unaccustomed to the amount of work I was putting them through. It felt good, I kept running.
My mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, encased in a blackness that stopped me from seeing clearly. With the tears and my muddled mind I didn't notice the tree before it hit me.
A searing pain went through my head as a metallic taste reached my lips.
With a quick spell I pushed the knot of wood I knew would make its movements stop. I regretted it instantly for not letting it crush me.
Some one yelled my name; they must have gone looking for me after I had left. I couldn't let them see me like this. I squeezed down the narrow tunnel at the base of the tree, tripping slightly over the small steps.
I reached the main room of the disgusting shack and sunk to my knees. Letting my head fall back I released the scream of anguish I'd been holding back for far too long.
I screamed until my throat was too raw to utter a sound, and switched to large sobs.
With each shaky cry I let out, I thought of all those I'd lost, all those I'd hurt, all the times I could have done something to save them, all the times I'd done nothing, and all the people I was still going to have to say good bye to.
I cried until I was out of tears, my whole body still trembling. I felt numb, physically and emotionally exhausted, there was no way I would make it back to the castle with out collapsing.
I rested my head on the floor, deciding not to transfigure anything into a bed. The cold, hard surface felt good beneath me, giving me the illusion that I had a least one solid thing in my life.
Thank you very much for reading, tell me what you think.
