Ten Years

by jsrsuperstar

Dean contemplates his life on his sixteenth birthday. He wishes that someone would reach out to him, but no one does and no one will ever do so.

A little drabble starring my favorite, Dean Thomas. please review if you feel so inclined to do so. ;)

I own absolutely nothing.

Saturday morning. It's early; I've slept as long as my body has allowed me. 'Maybe I'll get something this year. Maybe this year someone will remember' is the continuous thought that runs in my head. It's not likely. I've been here for five years and no one has ever gotten me anything. I thought my problems would go away once I left that hell, also known as my home. Figures. Stuff like this happens to me all the time. Why did I think it was going to get any better?

I pushed myself out of bed and pulled on my shoes. I threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to keep warm. I placed my wand in the designated holster under my sleeve and made my way to the common room, out the door and through the castle. I passed down the stairs, completely alone. Everyone else was still asleep. It was still Saturday after all. I exited the castle and let the cool, autumn air envelop my being. I started my trek to my favorite spot that remained secluded from the rest of the population. I found it completely by accident. It was a few paces east of Hagrid's hut. I came here often to be alone. I don't know why no one ever found me. Maybe it was because they weren't looking. The only thing people need me for is to either forge a signature or reach a book from a library shelf after they forget to bring their wand to study.

I sat with my back against the tree that I had grown so fond of. I don't mind being alone, I just hate being lonely. I don't have one person in the whole world that would selflessly listen to anything I wanted to tell them. All these people that call themselves my friends are so absorbed in themselves that they don't actually know me. No one knows that I go home to a mother that ignores me and a stepfather that looks down upon me, because I'm not his. No one knows that I'm deaf in my right ear because my stapfather threw an alarm clock at my head. No one knows that I know more than Hermione and Malfoy, combined, I just choose not to display it, because then, people will only use me for my intelligence. No one knows that I spend many nights thinking about how I'll never grow old, but how I'm destined to die young, kinda like my real father. I never know hoow I'll die, exactly, but I know that it's going to happen. No one knows that I resent Dumbledore for not protecting my father, like he promised my grandfather he would. No one knows my favorite color is orange, my favorite animal is a kangaroo, and I'm lactose intolerant.

The older I get the more I realize that this is just life and I'm going to make something out of myself, until I die at age 26, like I've predicted. Then maybe people will look back on the time at Hogwarts and ask my so called friends about me. They'll ask what was I like as a child and they won't know the answer. They'll ask what my favorite food was and they won't know the answer.

I closed my eyes and laid my head back against the tree. Well, I only 10 have more years to go. Only 10 more lonely years to go. I can make it by myself until then... I think.