Struggling To Breathe
The silence was deafening. What was once moments seems like hours as the vivid flare of emerald light hastening towards what I think is me, but no, its not me its my friend, my challenger, its Cedric. It's Cedric that dies, not me. Why I ask myself as I stare at his limp body on the ground, the moments passing before me before Pettigrew comes to tie me, why doesn't he get up? Pettigrews arms have bound me now, in my mind there's no time, no place, struggling I shout: Get up Cedric! Get up! Voldemorts out here! Take the goddamned Portkey and get out! But he doesn't move..he never moves. That dream comes to me almost every night now, and every night I wake with a cold sweat on my face, deep breaths escaping in earnest, my lungs desperate for air...tears in my eyes.
Darkness surrounds me. I reach beyond myself to see...to see if he's there. Maybe it all really was just a dream, Cedric never died, Voldemort never came back. But as my eyes adjust and the faint outlines of a dresser and a desk begin to show, I realize that he is not there, he really is dead. It's all my fucking fault that he died, if I hadn't been so stupid as to suggest taking the trophy together, if I had just gone for it, he would still be alive. I'm the one responsible for so many deaths these years. Two you say, two is too many. Perhaps that's why fate saw it for Sirius to die, when Cedric died I couldn't even begin to understand the pain that I was putting his parents through and now I do. Maybe it was a lesson from someone. God? No, that's a muggle belief, something I always found rather stupid and ignorant. I hate the Death Eaters, scampering around the magical community as if they truly care about the people there, all the while carrying out their sins in silence. Cowards! Bastards! If you were truly brave you would LET people know who you are! WHAT you are!
I feel separated from everyone else, cut off somehow. I find myself amazed, as I watch students and teachers go about their daily business so casually, unaware of the fact that it is I that must finally kill Voldemort, or be killed in the course of action. Sometimes, when I'm sitting by myself underneath a tree or behind a bush, I'll catch a glimpse of Cho passing by, chatting it up with one of her friends or another guy. Guy. That's what I am now. In my year with Cho my heart already knows what it has not yet seen. Our entire relationship, if you could call it that made me scratch..made me struggle..and finally, made me breathe. I was free, free from worry or restraints of a girl. Its amazing really, how a girl can do that to a guy. She amazes me. I don't have time for girls now or ever, I have things to do. What girl is gonna wanna be with a guy like me anyway? What girl is gonna want to listen to me confide in her what I already confide in here? There isn't a girl in the world.
I scratched. I struggled. I'm still suffocating.
-Harry James Potter
*****
Author Replies:
Wicchick- I do like DM/HP they're all really good. Scared Potter? Made me cry. Another good one I suggest to you (and anyone else who might be reading this) is "Temping Fate" by Nisha Kole and "The Way it Grows" by Springfall. I don't have any plans yet to write my own DM/HP fic as all these wonderful authors are SO good I would have a hard time living up to them. I'de love to read your story when it's finished.