Length: about 595 words (as small as a vignette? Well, it fits then, doesn't it?)

Disclaimer: HP? You actually think I invented HP? Merlin, that is not very intelligent of you, I must say. Did you even take a look at the name of this site? Well, clearly not, so I better tell you. It says: Fanfiction. Fanfiction! Do you notice the difference? Because otherwise it would say: "Fiction of JKR" or something... But really, I don't even know how you could get this confused so much in the first place...

Author's Notes: Yes, I do admit that I actually did pick up the "too old" topic and probably just a tad bit of the "too poor" topic for this chapter. But it won't be much, I promise. (Because I'm tired of those as well...) Therefore, have fun reading...

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7. Pretend #2 – Reality

He felt old. He always did and he knew perfectly well the reason why. He really was old. A simple fact that he didn't appreciate, yet couldn't change.

Well, certainly, there were means of changing his appearance and he could always try and fool himself and pretend to be someone else, someone far younger and more vivid than him. He could dye his greying hair or gather the last bits of money he had left for this month and buy new clothes that didn't look as old and professor-like as his did. He could see another doctor about his numerous scars and probably get himself some Muggle medicine, because he had found that it did work quite well on his wounds. He could change all that and make himself look younger and better, but in the end there was no mistaking in the fact that the real problem wouldn't be solved this way, not at all. Because it was not his skin in particular that he felt old about or anything on the outside. He felt old in his heart and this was a truth that was not as easy to change as his outlook. He felt old – so he was.

He wondered sometimes what she would make of this. He wondered if she could ever understand, ever be able to comprehend the fact that there was nothing, at all, worth fancying about him. Because he was just a complete mess; he had always been nothing more than a complete mess…

But as soon as these musings would enter his mind, he remembered that he didn't have a chance to ask her, not anymore, not now that he had ruined their friendship. Or maybe, he was just too afraid to ask, too afraid of her reaction. Because he could always pretend not to know, pretend that if he actually did ask her, she would without doubt tell him that he really was an utter mess and in no way suitable for her.

But reality always got him in the end.

He knew reality would sink its teeth ever so deeply into his pretending brain, one day, and tell him that, in fact, Nymphadora Tonks did love him; yes, did love him from head to toe and all the way back, greying hair and nasty scars and old skin and permanent poverty and occasional self-loathing and undying self-consciousness and everything else, every last horrible bit about him included. And ironic as it was, he became aware of this the instant she said that she didn't love him. Because it happened to be the very instant she tried to convince herself of this in front of a mirror without knowing that he stood right behind and listened, even if not on purpose. It didn't even occur to him that she might not mean him when she said "I don't love him". But if he was honest, there was no other possibility for he was then reminded of the numerous times he had tried this method of convincing himself in front of the same mirror every other morning. And he also remembered that he had failed just as miserably.

So in the end, reality, cruel as it was, really did sink its teeth ever so deeply into his stubbornly pretending brain – and sucked him dry. Sucked as long as it took for him to realise that all he could ever do was to keep pretending, keep pretending that she didn't love him and he didn't love her in return. For reality, as it seemed, was two things: real, and bloody painful.

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Stop pretending that you do not have the time or ability to review. Face your reality: You are a great reviewer and really, it takes only a second, doesn't it? (Feeding your ego here...) Therefore (please) review!

So I heard this particular song a while ago and thought that I could make a songfic out of it. Actually, I don't even like songfics, not that much, but when I heard this song I couldn't help but wonder if I should write one. So yeah, if the next days or weeks a songfic from Jord (eh, pet-munchkin, that is) pops up out of nowhere - that's mine, and yes, it would be my first and no, you don't have to like it. But I would love if you did... :-)

Happily eating salat and feeling so healthy; bye bye und tschüß