Authors Notes: Okay these thoughts and plots will not leave my head for anything, they are interrupting my own creative thoughts for my novel. I know its been done to death but with Deathly Hollows coming up, I couldn't resist. As per usual Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, it belongs to that very talented and creative J.K. Rowling, and I wouldn't need to be writing fan-fiction, I would be rolling around in my riches =p

P.S. I'm sorry to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting more chapters for the Kenshin fanfic Blossom, I will get around to it one of these days...

P.P.S This is definitely AU (Alternate Universe) and I am sorry for the way this fanfic turned out with spelling and the quotation marks going missing, I did put them in but doesn't like my way of doing things.

A/N: Updated! Shock and horror I know, and I am sorry it has taken so long just finally got a copy of word. I realized some of these chapters are way too short, and I also need to fix mistakes. (My grammar is still blah.)

UNDER YOUR GAZE

It wasn't meant to turn out like this, no it was meant to be a happily ever after fairy tale. This wasn't meant to happen, how did it happen? All my dreams and hopes dashed. I was a widow already at the age of twenty, I didn't want to talk about it, and I was suffering more than anyone could ever possibly know. One of my brothers was dead, killed by that hideous bastard who dared to call himself a Lord, and now my husband was dead as well. Oh no it wasn't by his hand I can assure you, my husband had for once and all defeated Voldemort, that's right my husband is, no was Harry Potter. I still can't get use to the fact that his gone, I mean really gone, it feels like a part of my soul is missing, he took it with him the day he died. You're probably wondering how he died, a giant fall from his broom? Maybe a magical creature had bitten him and was poisonous? I'm laughing a little as tears roll down my cheeks, there was nothing magical about the way he died, heart attack plain and simple.

That's right the great Harry Potter died from a heart attack, apparently all the stress from fighting in his teen years had made his body run down, over exhausted. Sure the healers at St Mungo's tried to revive him for what felt like an eternity to me, in reality it would have been no more than fifteen minutes. Of course once the news of Harry being gravely ill had spread like wild fire and those who were closest to me, who survived with or fought with us, decided to ban together for my sake, I really didn't know if I was grateful that they were there or if I would have been better off by myself? I can remember it all so vividly, like I was there yesterday. It will probably be something that haunts me until the day I die.

I sigh and confess I'm tired and keep questioning why he had to leave me? Wasn't I good enough? Didn't we already have enough heartache and pain? Then I was angry, I was angry for him leaving me, for leaving us, his friends and his family, ever since I keep myself locked in this house in the muggle world. I couldn't stand to see the sight of the daily prophet with headings like : Harry Potter The Boy Who Lived: Now Dead., Harry Potter An Autobiography. Even the Quibbler was talking about Harry. Harry Potter The Boy Who Defeated Voldemort Dead, We Remember Him Through The Ages.

If that wasn't bad enough I also had people coming up to me and telling me how sorry they were for my loss, as they rambled on about how they knew Harry. No-one knew Harry like I did, no-one would be feeling the burden, the pain, the suffering like I was. Everyone thought they knew the real Harry, they only saw him at his best, I saw him at his worst, when the walls he built up had crumbled and fallen, when he couldn't take it anymore and said I was the reason he had to go on. I knew Ron and Hermoine were hurting badly as well. Ron had also lost what he had thought to be another brother even if it was through marriage. The thing though was that Ron had Hermoine to fall back on, Mum had Dad, Bill had Fluer, George had Angelina but who did I have? It wasn't the same turning to Mum for comfort, I felt empty hollow, I couldn't stand it, everywhere I went in the magical world I would hear condolences, eyes always upon me, the whispers when they thought I couldn't hear. I was sick of people treading on eggshells around me, sick of their condolences. I needed to get away, needed a fresh start, so I chose the muggle world, the world in which Harry had once grown up in, in which he once belonged. I guess I was like my Dad in a way I did like different types of muggle contraptions they fascinated me, and once I figured out how to turn the tele whatever the hell it was called on, that's all I did for days, watched as small figures moved around in this box. Some of these shows? Is that what you would call them? Where in black and white, others were in colour. I clung onto a couch pillow like it was my life line, my eyes red, raw and puffy. I wondered if I would ever stop crying?

Harry had enough money for us to live on for what felt like the rest of my life, I converted a lot of it to muggle money of course, that's why I was here, but everything here also started to remind me of Harry in some way or manner. I was going to need more of a distraction, I turned off the shows and then went outside, it was summer, and children were laughing and playing. I was resentful, bitter, I would now never have the children I so desperately wanted, with the love of my life, would I ever smile again? I shook my head making sure to turn the locks in the door, like I had seen many of my neighbours doing, it was all confusing at first but I got use to it. I was in the middle of England, I had no idea where exactly, it wasn't like I really cared for that matter. I started my daily stroll, my head always reeling with thoughts, and my eyes always down watching the pavement under my feet. I had so often bumped into people, they would think I was in deep concentration, I would apologize and move on quickly not wanting anyone to see how severely depressed I was, not wanting them to see my swollen face and red eyes. My hair had become a way for me to tune out the world around me, it was a curtain of deep red, just like Harry's Mothers. I hope it wasn't because he wanted Motherly love that he chose me? It wasn't was it? So many questions left unanswered, and I doubted that I would get the answers I craved. The heat pounding down on my head also started to give me a headache, but I continued on. Once again I was lost in my thoughts when I bumped into someone, I was about to apologize when I heard a voice.

"Please be careful where you are going Miss, I'm running late for an overly adverted appointment." The voice was precise, low, and calculating. I knew the voice, it was one from what felt like years and years ago. I looked up to see long black hair and immediately proceeded to faint.

Authors Notes: Yes I am truly cruel TBC