Harry couldn't fall asleep.
No matter how hard he tried, his body just wouldn't comply. Too much on his mind, he supposed.
His thoughts kept swarming, and the possibilities rose, then sank into the nothingness from which they had come. This was it; there was no way to get around it. It had to be him, and he would die fighting if that's what it took.
I can't stand to fly,
I'm not that naïve,
I'm just out to find,
The better part of me.
Harry just couldn't do it. He couldn't bear to be the one responsible for another death. Not another friend who died trying to save him. But out of this misery, Harry discovered a faint trickle of hope. If he really killed Voldemort once and for all, no one would have to die again. And he could be free.
I'm more than a bird,
I'm more than a plane,
More than some pretty face, beside a train,
And it's not easy to be me.
Harry rolled over to see his best mate, spread out and drooling aimlessly in his four-poster. The curtains were only half-drawn, and his sheets were in a heap on the floor.
But of all things, Harry had always been jealous of Ron. He had a family, a home; something he could count on. Harry had nothing; his last parent had just died.
It killed to see Dumbledore fall from the Astronomy tower that night, his face drawn back in surprise like it had for him so many times before. But Harry's face wasn't laughing now; rather quite the opposite.
Dumbledore died for a reason lost to time, by a man he considered a friend. This was the most despicable part of his death; falling when he should have been strong.
I wish that I could cry,
Fall upon my knees.
Find a way to lie,
About a home I'll never see.
It may sound absurd, but don't be naïve,
Even heroes have the right to bleed.
I may be disturbed, but won't you concede,
Even heroes have the right to dream,
It's not easy to be me.
Harry had the right to know, and now, the right to sob for his long lost friend
For the first time tonight, Harry thought of his parents. What would they have done? If none of this had ever happened; would Sirius and Dumbledore still be here?
No, he told himself. Dumbledore told him himself. The dead are to stay dead. He couldn't afford to think otherwise. It would only lead to madness.
Up, up and away,
Away from me,
It's alright,
You can all sleep sound tonight,
I'm not crazy, or anything.
Slowly, Harry's distressed mind found other topics to digress, and he drifted into the state of unknowing; the place you go before you fall asleep. He never thought he could forgive, but maybe Dumbledore died for a proper reason. Perhaps his ending wasn't a mistake.
What if Snape wasn't the one to blame?
I can't stand to cry,
I'm not that naïve,
Men weren't meant to ride,
With the clouds between their knees,
I'm only a man in a silly red sheet,
Digging for kryptonite on the one way street.
It's not my fault; it's not my fault…
Only a man, in a funny red sheet.
Looking for special things inside of me.
Harry finally flew away, away from the pain and loss that was reality. And when he did, he didn't have a second thought about it. He accepted death with open arms
It's not easy, to be, me.
-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-
Thanks for reading! (And recently re-updated. Thanks ThisLoveHasNoCeiling, from however long ago…)
-Violet Sky
