Author's note: Hi everyone. This is just something I thought up while I was sitting in front of my computer, wishing I had something to do. Just so you know, I do not own Harry Potter, or anything associated with him and the book series. They belong to wonderful J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Thank them for the invention of this stuff, not me. This fanfic's plot, tho… that's all mine! ::Wink:: Enjoy!
Stone Cold
Cold, hard, stone steps are the only obstacles. Far less than in the past, though as difficult as ever to overcome. Each step feels like succeeding on a vigorous climb up a mountain. The eerie feeling of the entrance to that lonely house in Godric's Hollow.
He walked here, these very steps, this very hall, 18 years ago today. The steps I only crawled. The steps I only crawled for one small year. Those memories are a part of me, the little memories I still grasp in my mind. I must've been happy though. Happy dreams, that I never can relive.
This must've been where he tried to stall the Dark Lord. How I shun the title. That creature of a man who murdered my father, in this very spot. Those marks on the wall, that's where the spell was cast. Where the curse was cast. As I reach to feel the wall, I imagine it happening. No dementor is needed to bring the recollections to my mind, however helpful they are in their own sinister ways.
Farther upward. I look around, only to turn back around again. The photos on the wall are too tough for me to handle. How were we so happy? How can they wave like that, knowing how painful the memories are for me? They knew they were here hiding. Hiding, only to be betrayed, a betrayal resulting in their deaths.
The nursery. I slept here. Young, and naive. The last time I saw my mother, I was in this room. Where I was cursed, and he fell. Why couldn't he have cursed me, before he killed my parents? They might still be alive. I would have given them a chance.
And there, that's where she died.
I cannot handle it anymore. Down, past the crib where my mother fell, the stairs where my father fell, the stone cold steps that were the only boundary between the old house and the rest of the world. I had to get away.
"Harry"
I look up to find the faces I needed to see the most. Neither of them knew exactly what to say. Neither did I. All I could do was glance over, at the red-haired, freckle-faced man that I knew so well, and the brown, no longer frizzy-haired woman I had grown to love.
As we gathered up into an embrace, I could sense that they felt the tears roll down my cheeks.
-- End --