Missing
Please,
please forgive me,
But I won't be home again.
Maybe someday
you'll look up,
And, barely conscious, you'll say to no
one:
"Isn't something missing?"
Seventeen-year-old Harry Potter stares into the fire of his private rooms at Hogwarts. He clenches his hand around the hilt of a silver dagger and stands quickly. Flashes of the night and the fight with his lover torment his mind and he starts pacing restlessly. His thoughts are rapid and out of control. What did he do wrong? When did he say the wrong thing? Nothing ever seems to go right.
You
won't cry for my absence, I know -
You forgot me long ago.
Am I
that unimportant...?
Am I so insignificant...?
Isn't something
missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
Harry
slams his hand against the wall and looks at the dagger a reckless
grin coming over his face. He grabs a cloak and starts out of the
room, heading towards the tallest tower of the castle, unguarded by
spells. As he walks the halls the upcoming fight with Voldemort comes
to his mind. He shrugs it off and starts running. Surely they can
fight for themselves. Couldn't they? He's only seventeen.
Even
though I'm the sacrifice,
You won't try for me, not now.
Though
I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone
missing me?
Harry
starts up the stairs thinking of the wizarding world. How they don't
care if he dies when he fights Voldemort. He might as well save them
the problem and leave the world early. Who cares if Voldemort takes
over? Flashes of his lover's smiling face send him into a feeling
of such sadness that he nearly falls to his knees. His lover would
care. What would happen to his one time friends? His godfather…
gone… nothing left but his lover. Even he's left him to fend for
himself.
Please,
please forgive me,
But I won't be home again.
I know what you
do to yourself,
I breathe deep and cry out,
"Isn't
something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?"
The
dagger slips and cuts his hand. He watches with morbid fasination as
droplets of blood drip to the floor, staining the grey stone. Feeling
weak he continues onward and reaches the top, pushing the heavy door
open. He steps from the safety of the doorway into torrents of rain
that soak him in an instant. Teeth chattering slightly he raises his
face to the sky letting the water rush over him. He can't feel his
tears mingling with the rain, trailing down his cheeks.
Even
though I'm the sacrifice,
You won't try for me, not now.
Though
I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone
missing me?
Anger at the wizarding world builds up in him. They turn away from him and still expect him to save them from Voldemort. Only one had stayed with him and now even that was taken away. He turns his head away from the rushing rain and stares down at the dagger resting lightly in his hand. Could he do it? Would it be worth it? His mother and father awaited him, so did his godfather. Would they accept him? He'd done so much and received so little. That's all a sacrifice deserves… nothing, no peace, no sort of happiness.
And
if I bleed, I'll bleed,
Knowing you don't care.
And if I sleep
just to dream of you
I'll wake without you there,
Isn't
something missing?
Isn't something...
Taking the dagger he makes a thin line across his wrist letting the blood flow. Images of sixth year after his house turned on him cascaded over him. He falls to his knees as the face of his blonde lover surfaces and smiles at him sadly. His tears flow harder as he remembers the first time he's found covered in blood. So much blood, it covers the floor, the walls. He's nearly gone, but one saves him. One steps up and takes his life into his hands and saves him. The worthless sacrifice, the Boy-Who-Lived, and for what? To leave again.
Even
though I'm the sacrifice,
You won't try for me, not now.
Though
I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone
missing me?
He stands dropping the dagger and heads for the edge of the wall, blood still running in a thin ribbon down his arm. Pulling himself up onto the ledge thunder roars, and a flash of lightning illuminates everything in an eerie glow, his tearful, deep emerald green eyes, his pale, shallow skin. The door of the tower crashes open and in the next instant Draco's arms are around Harry pulling him back down onto the safety of the floor.
"I'm sorry, Harry, I love you." And for once, Harry's safe, in the arms of the one he truly belongs with.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
FIN
